The Heifetz Collection, Volume 8 - 1950-1955

I would give much to have a recording of the Hindemith sonata (in D, Op. 2 No.2) as Heifetz played it in Carnegie Hall on October 14, 1936, if only as a keepsake of his effort—as one commentator described it—to find "new violin music that is also good. " This, in capsule, is the perpetual problem of the public performer: "new" is an absolute, subject to what might be called "consensus by calendar," but "good" is a judgment for which every artist must be individually responsible. Heifetz's unending search is affirmed, in this volume, by two sonatas of Ernest Bloch. They are. expressive of the eloquent string writing associated with Bloch in his violin concerto, the Schelomo for cello and orchestra, the suite for viola and piano, the string quartets and other ensemble works. Both date from the 1920-25 period, when Bloch produced some of his most distinctive works. Of particular interest is the second sonata, which begins with a solo phrase for the violin that initiates a work well titled "Poème mystique. " It is written in a single continuous movement that embodies within it half a dozen tempo changes and the conformations of a completely self-contained work. André de Ribaupierre and Beryl Rubinstein share the dedication, which reflects a piano part worthy of the virtuosity Rubinstein possessed as a member of the faculty of the Cleveland Institute of Music during Bloch's tenure as director in the '20s. There is the other side of the continuing quest for the new and the good. That is the continuing quest for greater justice to the old and the good. It is exemplified here by the recording of the Brahms Op. 108, one of the greatest sonatas in the literature, with a partner new to a recording in this complilation. There should have been more sonata recordings with William Kapell, and there doubtless would have been had he not been absorbed in building a solo career that ended, all too tragically, in 1953, when the plane in which he was returning from an Australian tour crashed into a mountain as it was letting down for a landing at the San Francisco airport. One of the most talented pianists of his time (he was only 31 when he died), Kapell had an energy, mental and physical, that gave his playing a distinctive drive readily discernible in this performance. In a recording career that began with the shortest of the short and grew to encompass the weightiest as well as the longest of the works for his instrument, Heifetz neglected very little that was great or overlooked little that was great but neglected. Here, in a new flow of enthusiasm, can be found the first Handel sonata to be included among his recordings; the first of his two versions of the Bruch G Minor Concerto, made with his frequent collaborator, Sir Malcolm Sargent; the Beethoven Romances, one of several recordings with conductor William Steinberg, and his only recorded account of the orchestral version of Ravel's Tzigane. —Irving Kolodin