Pikaizen, born in Kiev
in 1933, is one of the major violinists
of his generation. He studied in his
native city and for a significant time
with David Oistrakh. Melodiya’s biographical
notes are indifferently translated and
sketchy on detail and you’d be far better
off reading the illuminating article
and interview with the violinist in
the relevant volume of Samuel Applebaum’s
The Way They Play. Here Pikaizen’s
musicianship comes under intelligent
scrutiny and if his answers reveal political
pressures – notably his espousal of
the Khrennikov concertos as a "career
highlight" – then much can still
be inferred. Certainly the technical
matters that are raised are particularly
revealing of his practical and commonsensical
outlook.
Pikaizen has recorded
widely and so this doesn’t pretend to
be anything approaching a complete edition;
at five CDs that could hardly be the
case. But it does collect two important
cycles, the Bach Sonatas and Partitas
and the Paganini Caprices, and these
form the cornerstone of this collection
and one assumes of Pikaizen’s approach
to the solo repertoire as a whole. He’s
joined by his daughter Tatiana for the
three Paganini showcases and the Mostras
– otherwise concentration is focused
entirely on Pikaizen.
His Bach is powerful,
considered, cautious as regards tempi,
and deeply serious. The Siciliana
of the G minor Sonata for example is
slow, reflective and almost entirely
non-terpsichorean. Pikaizen’s tone is
expressive, masculine and forwardly
projected and in the Grave of
the A minor Sonata the colour he conjures
is wide, and subtly deployed. Rubato
is effective here and the trills are
tight though not electric in velocity.
The same sonata’s Fuga is circumspect
but the Largo full of judicious
expression. His introversion comes across
strongly in the opening Adagio of the
C major though the differently weighted
and differentiated fugal voicings are
the most outstanding feature of his
playing of this work.
But for all the sculpted
drama things are, as perhaps I’ve suggested,
occasionally devitalised. That’s certainly
the case in the Allemande of
the D minor Partita. And in the Chaconne
– measured, once more – we find that
for all the relative aristocracy of
utterance, and indeed some intriguing
phraseology, clearly deeply considered,
things don’t really generate intense
cumulative vibrancy, despite some hushed
confidential asides.
His Paganini is similarly
slower than other better-known top-flight
players. One doesn’t need to turn to,
say, Ricci to find that the degree of
measure and reserve in Pikaizen’s playing
ensures a technically superb but sometimes
devil-compromised traversal. David Oistrakh
used to refer to the Caprices as the
Encyclopaedia, or the Bible. One feels
the power of his technical and tonal
reserves in the E minor but the following
C minor is really very slow as is the
G minor. The minor key caprices, perhaps
inevitably, show this perhaps over-cautious
nature most clearly. In the E flat major
one hears how in the octave episode
he plays the ascending phrase on the
G and the D strings – a more demanding
option but one that characterises the
passage highly impressively (though
the critical may note that even Pikaizen
nudges adjacent strings in this treacherous
Caprice). The showpieces are dispatched
with flair and digital control.
Konstantin Mostras
was an important pedagogue and his little
Caprice is an impressive piece; it encourages
the thought that more players should
take up Mostras. It’s the third CD of
the set however that gives us works
most characteristically associated with
Pikaizen. The Khachaturian – but the
notes won’t tell you this – was dedicated
to the violinist in 1975. Its recitative
character has a keening depth allied
to vocalised power and generates plenty
of folkloric drive into the bargain.
The knocking on the body of the violin
adds a certain percussive drama but
the finale ends in a rather quizzical,
unresolved way – a work that passes
through progressive emotive states,
not at all trivial but concentrated
and controlled. Yuri Levitin’s Op.45
Variations is more of a virtuosic study.
Levitin was a fine pianist and recorded
his own 1956 C minor violin Sonata with
David Oistrakh so maybe Pikaizen come
across his work through the older violinist.
Weinberg’s long, involved and strenuous
1979 sonata finds a magnificent champion
in Pikaizen. The only moments in these
five discs when his vibrato takes on
an overwrought edge are in this work
– and the application of this wide vibrato
is emotively entirely persuasive. The
lyric sections, too, are finely controlled
and the whole structure is delineated
by the soloist with utter assurance;
he proves as worthy an ambassador here
as he does for Khachaturian or - not
in this set - Boris Tchaikovsky.
These discs are available
separately - with the Paganini and Mostras
(as noted above) being a two CD set
- or in a card slipcase. They show Pikaizen’s
devotion to the canonic and to the exploratory.
If I admire his twentieth century Russian
repertoire most I hardly deprecate the
Bach and Paganini. They are sturdy and
deeply considered examples of his art.
But the contemporary works are more
characteristic and revealing, though
occupying significantly less space.
Should you want to start with these
works I recommend MEL CD 10 001003,
which also contains the E major Partita.
Jonathan Woolf
for details
Victor Pikaizen (violin) 
