A Lost Art Or a Tradition Continued? a Thesis Submitted In

Home , Hilary Hahn, Maxim Vengerov, Sarah Chang

CALIFORNIA STATE UNIVERSITY, NORTHRIDGE

The Old Greats of the Violin: A Lost Art or a Tradition Continued?

A thesis submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements

For the degree of Master of Music in Music

in Performance

Daniel Grab

May 2016

The thesis of Daniel Grab is approved:

______Dr. Liviu Marinescu Date

______Dr. Lorenz Gamma Date

______Dr. Diane Roscetti, Chair Date

California State University Northridge

Table of Contents

Signature Page ii

Abstract iv

Introduction: Unmasking the Stereotype 1

Section 1: Proposing a Methodology 3

Section 2: The Old 6

Section 3: The New 14

Conclusion: Are the Best Years Really Behind Us? 18

Bibliography 23

Figure 1 24

Figure 2 25

iii

Abstract

The Old Greats of the Violin: A Lost Art or a Tradition Continued?

Daniel Grab

Master of Music in Music, Performance

The purpose of this research project is to examine the widespread notion among classical musicians that while there are many high level technical players today, their artistry and most specifically their individuality is not on the level of the “old greats”. The main questions at stake are: Is there merit to this pervasive idea and if so what is behind this trend? Is this viewpoint partially a perspective-based illusion much like the idea held by each aging generation since the dawn of humanity supposing that the newer generation is less capable, not as special, lacking depth, etc.

This project will focus on eight interpretations of Mendelssohn violin concerto as sources; four by violinists born around the turn of the century, and four by violinists currently concertizing today. Since the question is one of artistic personality and individuality the paper will focus on violin soloists as representatives of this trend since the violin is arguably the most individualistic instrument. That is to say, that within the

classical music genre, on no other instrument can one personalize sound quality, sonic idiosyncrasies, and interpretation to the degree to which it is possible on the violin.

Analysis will show that while the turn of the century violinists did differ to a greater degree than today’s prominent players in specific areas, there are a cultural and logistical reasons behind this perceived shift and that today’s players can in fact be shown to have highly individualistic styles if one knows what aspects to listen for.

Introduction: Unveiling the Stereotype

“With the passing away on March the 12th, 1999 of the last true legendary violinist

Yehudi Menuhin, the final page of the history of the violin in the 20th century was turned. A fabulously rich era came to a close.“1 But what of the violinists of today, hasn’t this tradition simply continued on with the likes of Hilary Hahn, Maxim Vengerov, and

Sarah Chang? Well, not everyone would exactly agree. Among classical musicians, and perhaps most poignantly within the string playing subset, there exists a belief that the performers of today do not measure up artistically as individuals to the performers of the early to mid-20th century. In the words of Itzhak Perlman, born 1945, and often touted as his generation’s greatest violinist “If you compare violinists of today and violinists of let’s say the 1920’s, 30’s, 40’s, and 50’s, in my mind, to my ear, I don’t feel that one of them sounded like the other. I feel they were all individuals. Let’s talk about Kreisler,

Elman, Heifetz, Franciscati, Milstein, Menuhin, Oistrakh, Stern, everybody sounded different.”2 Although he does not criticize today’s violinists directly, one must infer that to say that these “old greats” were highly individualistic artists is to say that modern violinists are not, or at the very least are more homogenous relatively speaking. The other side of the coin regarding this stereotype of uniformity among current string playing is the concession that there are many players today, that despite their lack of imagination, play at a very high technical level. A subscriber to this belief may find it quite validating to learn of the company they are in after hearing Yehudi Menuhin’s view on the topic.

1 The Art of Violin, written and directed by Bruno Monsaingeon (2000; Los Angeles, CA: 2001, NVC Arts), DVD

2 Itzhak Perlman, The Art of Violin, written and directed by Bruno Monsaingeon (2000; Los Angeles, CA: 2001, NVC Arts), DVD.

“Today there are so many violinists that play pretty wonderfully, and that are not great violinists.”3 And this idea isn’t just held by just the concert-artist caliber elite, nor is it a new concept as evidenced by this complaint within a letter to the editor of Music &

Letters from 1950. “Recently technique has seemed to be in the ascendant again, and not a few of the violinists who have visited London in the last few years have had little to commend them beyond mechanical skill. So much alike are the that if they were to perform behind a screen not even the expert could tell one from another.”4 This paper will focus on eight prominent violin soloists eight from two different eras to show that while this notion does have some truth to it, there are many cultural and logistical reasons driving this trend and that it is partially an illusion of perspective.

3 Yehudi Menuhin, The Art of Violin, written and directed by Bruno Monsaingeon (2000; Los Angeles, CA: 2001, NVC Arts), DVD

4 F. B. “Correspondence.” Music and Letters XXXI, no. 2 (April 1950): 183.

Section 1: Proposing a Methodology

So why focus on solo violinists as a litmus test for classical music’s shift in focus from artistry and individuality to technical accuracy? First of all, a single instrument must be isolated to show any kind of trend whatsoever. One of course cannot compare pianists to cellists over the last century for example, there is really no common repertoire, the expressive tools are different etc. A stringed instrument was chosen specifically for two reasons; the notion in question seems to be most prevalent among string players, and stringed instruments those who wield them the greatest opportunity to forge an individualistic sonic brand. The reason for this is the amount of control a bowed, fretless instrument offers over pitch, volume, and timbre during every microsecond the instrument is being played. When a pianist strikes a key for example, that note can no longer be altered other than to be cut off from resonating. A string player however can get louder, softer, add vibrato, slide into the next note, change the color of the note or combine any of these expressive tools and more to create the effect he desires.

“Violinists have a harder time to make pure music than pianists because pianists cannot really do that much on the piano. They are immediately forced to turn the phrase. They don’t have to deal with vibrato, shifting, sliding, bow speed. You put down a key and you get a sound.”5 What Perlman is saying here is that there are many sonic idiosyncrasies that violinists (and presumably all string players) must make decisions about even before a musical phrase is considered. This combination of factors makes up the aesthetic of one’s playing and much like the human voice, ends up producing a sonic fingerprint apart

5 Itzhak Perlman, The Art of Violin, written and directed by Bruno Monsaingeon (2000; Los Angeles, CA: 2001, NVC Arts), DVD

from the interpretation of the music itself. So why focus on the violin specifically over the cello, viola, or bass for this study? These instruments are also bowed, fretless instruments that have the same variables as the violin. Well, the violin is the most soloistic of string instruments in the eyes of composers and audiences alike, and its big name stars are certainly the most recognized among the string family. Moreover, for physical reasons, the sound of the violin is most easily manipulated and personalized due to its high clear register, shorter string length, and long yet often quickly drawn bow. I doubt anyone would argue for example that it would be just as easy to identify individual styles among a sample group of bass players by listening alone. The possibility for variation in bow speed and clarity of vibrato simply do not exist to the same degree on lower registered stringed instruments, and therefore it’s arguable that the string family as a whole becomes more difficult to personalize as the register gets lower.

Producing data on any art form is a bit of a square peg in a round hole, and music is no exception. However, for the purpose of this paper some kind of concrete comparisons must be made to test the questions at stake. To this end I have chosen

Mendelssohn Violin Concerto, Op. 64 in E minor as a common piece to compare some prominent artists of today with those of the early 20th century. The work is often referred to as the perfect violin concerto due to its variety of memorable themes and exciting technical fireworks all contained in a relatively condensed framework. Two sections of the first movement will be focused on in particular; from the beginning of the piece to the first orchestra tutti mm. (1 – 47, figure 1), and the solo violin’s statement of the more tranquil second theme in the relative key of G major mm. 139 – 168, figure 2).

Four violinist’s interpretations from each era (the turn of the century group vs. the

modern group) will be analyzed, generalizations about each group will be formed, and the groups will be compared against each other. Group 1 will consist of Fritz Kreisler,

Mischa Elman, Jascha Heifetz, and Isaac Stern, and Group 2 Itzhak Perlman, Anne

Sophie-Mutter, Maxim Vengerov, and Hilary Hahn. Aspects of comparison will include: general tempo choices for the sections of music in question, degree of variation within these selected tempos, rubato, slides, vibrato, phrasing, technical accuracy, degree of variety in color and intensity of sound. The main questions at stake: Are there tangible measures that make the “old greats” in fact easier to separate from one another than the group of modern soloists? Are the modern players more technically accurate? If so, do these trends imply a declining level of artistry among prominent violin soloists in favor of technical accuracy?

Section 2: The Old

We begin with Kreisler. He opens with a relatively brisk tempo of 96 bpm to the half note. The sound color is sweet and singing and the vibrato provides it with a shimmering quality that doesn’t cut too deeply into the actual pitch. What stands out most about this recording is the way he uses rubato to stay soaring above the orchestra rather than forcing the sound. Right from the first note which is part of a pickup that begins in the middle of m. 2, he stays slightly ahead of the accompaniment. Just when it seems that the orchestra will catch him he jumps back in early with the fourth quarter note of m. 3 then again in m. 4, all three pickups staying just ahead of the orchestra. Only in mm. 7 - 10 as the phrase subsides does he fall back in with the orchestra. This elasticity reappears in the eighth notes in mm. 15, 16, 18, and 20 before the overall tempo accelerates to half note equals 104 leading into m. 25 where it more or less stays until the first tutti at m. 47.

Other notable aspects are an audible slide up to the second note of m. 21, then again down to the second note of m. 22 somehow done non offensively despite their proximity to one another, the dancing quality of the eighth notes leading up to the sforzandi in mm.

28 and 32, and the pitch problems in both octave runs beginning in m. 40. It is in the second theme that Kreisler really shows what sets him apart. The phrasing tendencies and masterful slide technique that we got just a taste of in the beginning are truly on display in this section. The repeated pickup notes in m. 139 that begin the theme begin unassumingly at half note equals 72 bpm but each time they return in mm. 141 and 143 they push forward more each time, the tempo only relaxing as the phrase descends in mm. 146. The overall effect of this is that the whole eight bar phrase really holds together as one unit rather than starting anew each time the repeated three note motive

presents itself. A new phrase begins in m. 147 that Kreisler effectively continues all the way to the end of the section in m. 168. This monumentally long phrase concept is achieved by really pushing the tempo in places like mm. 151 - 153 to limits way beyond the original speed, as fast as half note equals 92 or faster at times. These radical tempo fluctuations are highlighted by too many slides to count in this short 29 bar section, all done in the finest of musical taste.

Our next candidate is Mr. Elman. This opening tempo is somewhat brisk at about

100 bpm to the half note. The first thing I noticed about this recording is how he plays the final quarter notes of mm. 3 and 4 early, similarly to Kreisler, but in an even more extreme way, almost as if the second half of each measure was an eighth note plus a dotted quarter rather than two consecutive quarter notes. While this does serve to grab the listener’s attention right away, it is not executed as skillfully as Kreisler and borders on playing out of rhythm to my “modern” ears. The sound quality is quite opaque and one hears a lot of bow changes, the expression “heavy-handed” comes to mind. This approach feels somewhat clunky compared to Kreisler’s until m. 25 when the accented groups of eighth note triplets appear. Here one could argue that this thicker and more articulate sound adds to the excitement and rhythmic drive of this section. The octave run in mm. 41 and 42 is articulated quite shortly and is played considerably more accurately than Kreisler. The high note notes in mm. 43 and 47 seem somewhat poked rather than sung. In the second theme the difference between the two players we have looked at thus far becomes even more apparent. The chosen tempo is quite a bit slower at roughly 66 to the half note. As a result, the phrase lengths end up being shorter. While there is somewhat of an arc holding together the first eight measures, it is not nearly as coherent

as the Kreisler version and focuses more on the level of the motive than the long phrase.

I would characterize this approach as being much more vertical. If Kreisler is a master of a singing sound and the long phrase, Elman rather “speaks” his phrases with a unique clarity of articulation, even in lyrical passages such as this one. An interesting feature of this section is a very pronounced over-slide into the downbeat of m. 148 and again into mm. 157. These slides are quite identifiable in that the lower note is slightly rearticulated on the new bow which is unusual and could certainly act as a “tell” if trying to blindly pick Elman out of a group of recordings.

Moving on to Heifetz, a player who is widely considered the most sonically identifiable of violinists. This is due to a perfect storm of unconventionally fast tempo choices, intensity of sound, vibrato, and slides, and rarely matched technical ability, and in this case he does not disappoint. As expected his opening tempo is the fastest surveyed clocking in at a blistering 108 bpm to the half note which quickly accelerates to 112 by m. 12. In fact, by the end of this introductory section, which seems to accelerate gradually even as the written note values get shorter, Heifetz tops out at 116 bpm which is the tempo the orchestra assumes at the tutti beginning in m. 47. The significance of this radically fast tempo choice, both technically and musically speaking is not to be overlooked. The first thing one notices, certainly if the listener is a string player, are the athletic implications of what one is hearing. There is a “freak show” element of curiosity created almost immediately, a sense that one is witnessing the impossible. Not only is this performance much faster than the previous two recordings discussed, and ostensibly any recordings made during this time, it is also technically perfect. To my ear, I can’t say a note is really missed in the entire opening. As far as objective measures of ability go,

one has to acknowledge Heifetz has a leg up on his peers, a performance is either faster and more in tune, or it’s not.

The benefits having the “chops” to select tempos faster than one’s competition however do not end in the technical realm, not if you’re Heifetz. One might think a faster tempo choice would come at the cost of a thoughtful interpretation of the music. There is after all less time to bring out details like articulation, vibrate on notes that need to sing, or just to even think for that matter! These potential musical downfalls of a fast tempo are somehow absent in this interpretation, further adding to the listener’s sense of awe and wonderment first sparked by disbelief of this recording’s technical accomplishments alone. To the contrary, this recording is packed with musical interest and subtlety, seemingly at the level of the microsecond, despite being handicapped by less time to accomplish such things. For example, the dotted half notes in mm. 6 and 8, and the half note in m. 10 receive far more vibrato shakes than in the Elman or Kreisler recordings.

Heifetz is able to produce a brilliant and singing vibrato at will, right at the beginning of a note without any time necessary to “warm into” it. Another point of interest in this first phrase comes in the way of a subtle downslide between the first two notes of m. 10.

Although slurred, there is usually a phrase break implied between these two notes as it is a clear end to the first 8 measure phrase and the beginning of the second. Heifetz however takes special care to draw these two notes together not just with a slide and by executing the written diminuendo, but by arriving at the B just a little early. The overall effect creates an elision of sorts that draws the first and second phrase together without any sense of a break. In fact, the concept of forward motion in general certainly pervades

Heifetz’s interpretation throughout where entire sections are perceived as single phrases

yet paradoxically the smaller phrase structures remain unobscured. As far as variation within the chosen tempo goes, Heifetz plays markedly straighter than the other two thus far. As previously mentioned there is a slow and steady acceleration of tempo over the entire opening section, but the variation of tempo within the bar line is actually quite subtle yet consistent. Perhaps the reason for this is that in a faster tempo, a slight deviation from the metronome click is more significant relatively speaking. Therefore, one is able to accomplish rubato effectively without taking too much time in an absolute sense. It is in the eighth note triplets beginning in m. 25 when things really start to get exciting. The forward drive and electricity Heifetz is able to create in a passage like this is truly unmatched. The listener is put under the impression that there is simply no limit to the speed at which this man can play. The faster the notes get, the faster the tempo gets, and with absolutely no sign of difficulty or effort. By staying just ahead of the orchestra at key moments, like leading into the sforzndi at mm. 28 and 32 for example,

Heifetz puts the listener under the impression that he is superhuman; untouchable by the mere mortals who accompany him. Particularly exciting are the accents in mm. 33 through 36, that at this speed, conjure images of fireworks.

In the second theme Kreisler’s influence on Heifetz, at least in the lyrical realm, becomes quite apparent. Like in the Kreisler interpretation, Heifetz masterfully keeps a focus on the long musical line effectively creating a unified phrase from m. 139 to m.

168. The expressive tools at use to create this effect are similar to Kreisler’s as well.

While rubato is a primary factor in achieving this phrase concept it is perhaps slightly subtler than in the Kreisler. Since Heifetz starts out this section at relatively quick 80 bpm, there is less head room to accelerate from this point, but the points at which the

phrase moves forward and relaxes are almost identical in the two recordings. Also similar is the use of slides. While there are many different types of slides Heifetz uses, most fall into one of two categories: brilliant slides that propel the phrase upward and forward, and subtle slides that fit into a phrase that is decaying or relaxing. The slide previously mentioned in the opening at m. 10 for example, would fit into the second category. A textbook example of the former can be found leading into the downbeat of m. 162. It makes sense that a slide like this would precede a long note because it creates sufficient energy to carry the phrase through the duration of what could potentially be a stagnation, or flat spot in the musical line. By investing a burst of energy at the front of this sustained D, the remaining portion of the phrase has room to decay, allowing it to remain dynamic.

To round out our category of “old greats” we will be looking at Isaac Stern, who according to Itzhak Perlman, may have played a critical role in bridging the gap between what is now considered “old fashioned” violin playing and the modern approach. The first thing that stands out about this playing is a certain kind of purity. A melancholy attitude is established with the opening melody there aren’t a lot of surprises. The tempo is a leisurely 88 bpm to the half note, and Stern is in no rush to push the phrase forward; a total lack of urgency. The words reflective, and haunting come to mind. There is a sense that the performer is allowing the music to speak for itself and that he doesn’t feel the need to alter what is on the page by tweaking rhythms, or inserting a series of slides.

Here is Perlman’s view on Stern’s approach “It’s almost like he was saying you know, I don’t want to sound like all these old guys, I’m going to sound like me. You can hear in the slides, you can hear in the shifts, it’s Isaac. It’s totally different, there is a kind of a

purity to it. He could really turn a phrase with simplicity that would make it eloquent.”6

One really can “hear it in the slides” or in this case in the lack there of. As we have seen from looking the previous three versions, this highly melodic material from the beginning to m. 25 offers endless combinations of opportunities to brand one’s interpretation using slides alone. The irony here is that Stern sets himself apart by not feeling the need to personalize his interpretation in such a way. There are only two instances where something resembling a traditional slide is audible in the entire opening solo; from the G to the E in m. 3, and again in m. 11. Even in these cases, the slides themselves are very subtly executed “old-finger” slides, sometimes referred to as “over” slides or “French” slides, where the new note is arrived at cleanly and articulated by a new finger dropping into place. From m. 25, the overall aesthetic in terms of sound production is certainly more similar to Elman than Kreisler or Heifetz. The latter two seem to “dance” through these moving notes with a scherzando-like buoyancy, while Stern and Elman dig their heels in and muscle through this passage work with heft and an insistent clarity of articulation. In the second theme, Stern continues in his mode of egoless simplicity. I find it hard a chore to pick out speaking points about Stern’s playing in general as he does not do things to make his interpretation stand out relative to the others. That is not to say however, that his is not a highly musical, inspiring version of the piece. The beauty of tone, phrasing, rubato, slides (although fewer and subtler) are all there, but everything is done in a very balanced way, and with a restraint that causes the piece to be the star over the performer. One way Stern sets himself apart in his interpretation of the

6 Itzhak Perlman, The Art of Violin, written and directed by Bruno Monsaingeon (2000; Los Angeles, CA: 2001, NVC Arts), DVD

second theme is with his tempo choice which is the slowest so far ranging from 60 to 70 bpm to the half note. The resulting character is also the most subdued, and much like the first theme completely lacks urgency but at no point could be criticized for being overly sentimental.

Section 3: The New

If Isaak Stern is the first group’s link to the future, then Itzhak Perlman is the modern violinist’s link to the past. Born in 1945, Perlman is the oldest of the second group of violinists and to be fair could certainly be considered to be of a different generation than

Hillary Hahn for example born in 1979. However, for the purpose of testing the questions at stake, Perlman would certainly fall into the “new” category, and is considered to be one of the instrument’s most important modern ambassadors. As one might expect, Perlman’s interpretation is closest not just chronologically to the Stern version, but also sonically. In fact, much like in the case of Kreisler’s presumed influence over Heifetz, it is hard to listen to these two recordings back to back without assuming the same. The Perlman tempo is just slightly faster than Stern’s but still relatively slow ranging from 92 bpm through the opening melodic section, to 100 during mm. 25 through 47. Much like Stern, Perlman plays this opening melody pensively, and without urgency. The sound itself has a bit more shimmer to it and the vibrato cuts into the pitch a bit more. While every violinist surveyed thus far has opted for a bump in tempo in the section beginning at m. 25, and in Heifetz’s case continuing to accelerate all the way to the tutti at m. 47, Stern’s and Perlman’s tempo fluctuation are the most conservative. Perlman’s fluctuation within given sections is even more subtle than

Stern’s. One could certainly argue that Perlman is continuing the trend of “straighter” playing that Stern seems to have initiated as a mode to separate himself from his peers.

In the second theme, Perlman’s use of vibrato and slides is more dynamic than Stern’s but the tempo is more constant with less rubato. He basically sets a tempo of 66 to the half note and moves a bit in the middle of each phrase but always finds himself right back

to the tempo he first presents for this material. This is by far the straightest interpretation of this material thus far with regard to tempo variation. Perlman executes some beautiful slides in this section that should not be overlooked, with the “down” slides outnumbering the “up” slides in fact, which is rare since in modern playing too many of these, or any at all can be considered taboo. Prominent examples are down slides in mm. 152, 157, and

167. Like in the Heifetz version, there is a beautiful Russian slide into the downbeat of m. 162 executed in a similar fashion.

Just as evidence for the idea that modern violin players are getting tamer, or safer, in their interpretations has begun to emerge, Anne Sophie-Mutter’s interpretation makes a strong case for just the opposite. In a relatively brisk tempo matching Kreisler at 96 bpm,

Mutter first states the theme very sweetly, slightly sotto voce, but with a background of urgency or unrest. In the second statement of this theme beginning at m. 9 the sound is already a solid mezzo forte and is electrified by a high energy vibrato. Although to some degree Heifetz is beyond comparison, if not just for his tempo choices alone, I would have to say this concept, from the beginning to m. 47, is most closely related to Heifetz.

There is a sense that the performer is imposing herself on the piece, of taking control, and of a certain aggression. Technically speaking this performance is stellar, the pitch center is much narrower than in the Perlman recording. To me, it seems the most accurate playing thus far in the category of articulation as well. This is especially apparent in the slurred eighth note triplets, mm. 25 through 39, which are incredibly even and clear despite being drawn on the same bow. Generally, this playing sets itself apart from the rest by creating a high level of excitement second only perhaps to Heifetz thus far, through the use of a highly audible laser-like vibrato, and by being highly dynamic;

changing from sweetly singing to powerfully articulate on a dime. For lack of better terminology, Mutter kind of “rocks out” at times conjuring the aesthetic of an electric guitar solo, particularly evident on vibrated, sustained high notes like in mm. 43 and 47.

Mutter’s individualistic approach continues to stand apart as we take a look at her version of the second theme. She begins on the slow side at half note equals 63 and with a distinctive sotto voce sound that seems very intentional, it’s not just “quieter”, but there is a lot happening with bow speed and vibrato to create a certain color that acts to draw the listener in. This sound is especially interesting because it stands in contrast to the very brilliant sound color achieved throughout much of the previous material. There are a good number of liberties taken with the tempo throughout this section, some even harkening back to the rubato style of the past. This is heard particularly in the deliberate unevenness in mm. 146 to 154 that works to add interest to the phrase.

Maxim Vengerov’s interpretation, at least to my ear, can be defined by a syrupy sweetness of sound quality and vibrato that pervades the playing. Everything is

“singing”, sometimes to the exclusion the of clarity of articulation, or variety of sound color found in Mutter’s recording for example. This can tend to have a bit of a “soft lens” effect during material like the triplets beginning at m. 25 and separately bowed eight notes in m. 28, that could be criticized for lacking just a bit of intensity and contrast to the lyrical material that came before it. Adding to this impression of uniformity, is the standardization of tempo throughout this section; the least varied yet moving just one metronome “click” from 92 bpm in the opening material to 96 from mm. 25 to 47. All this being said, the interpretation is still quite beautiful and masterfully executed. There is a certain openness and expansive beauty of sound that seems to reach out and grab the

listeners ear providing a consistent point of interest. The playing is easy to listen to, so to speak, with everything very singing and drawn together. From seeing video of this performer in the past, I have an image of him playing with his head tilted back, eyes closed, and eyebrows arched high. Maybe it’s the power of suggestion at work, but I feel this openness and freedom is somehow identifiable in his sound. In the second theme

Vengerov takes a quick tempo by modern standards, matching Kreisler at 72 bpm and takes a big picture approach. Everything in Vengerov’s soundscape sounds very natural and there are few surprises. The phrase ebbs and flows to create direction and the sound is consistently beautiful but absent are the variety of colors found in Mutter’s interpretation, or the “old school” slides that Perlman is able to impart.

Hillary Hahn is renowned for her immaculate playing and considered by many to be one of the most accurate players among performers today. It is inevitable that the reputation of being on the top of the heap technically comes with detractors who will insist that the technical prowess is at the expense of any musical expression whatsoever.

This is even the case with Heifetz to this day who is often criticized for being “cold” in his interpretations. In his case there are a combination of things that add to this ridiculous misconception, namely his extremely fast tempos and a facial expression usually reserved for staring contests. Interestingly, Hahn’s facial expressions are similarly absent, but her tempo choices put her at the opposite end of the spectrum introducing the opening melody at just 84 bpm, and the second theme at a painfully slow

54 bpm. Control and restraint are the first things that come to mind when listening to this interpretation. Even the sound quality itself, while undeniably clear, can be a bit “sticky” at times, leaving the listener wanting for occasionally faster bow speeds in the name

variety. In terms of sound quality, she really could not be more different that Vengerov or Perlman who play with a sweetness and openness at all times. Her vibrato is quite minimalistic, possibly by choice, but the result is that the sound lacks the variety or intensity found in Heifetz or Mutter’s playing. Although she starts the piece slowly, she does reach and maintain what has proven to be a very standard modern tempo of 100 bpm for moving notes beginning at m. 25. Again though, although played with a crystal clarity, there is an etude-like quality to the interpretation, at least when compared to the versions of several other world class players. This is especially evident in the triplets in mm. 37 through 39, that precede the extremely dramatic fully diminished seventh chord octave run beginning on the pickup to m. 40. It truly sounds like she’s practicing a scale sequence to a metronome click when compared to Mutter for example who manages a very audible shift of dynamic and intensity over the same passage. The more difficult the passage gets however, the less this regularity is seen as boring and the more it is seen as desirable. Case in point, both octave runs are executed with a machine-like precision, evenness, and clarity that is impressive unto itself. As recently mentioned, the second theme is slow, really slow. Especially while having the Kreisler interpretation freshly in my ear, it is hard to believe that this is even the same piece. Like in the Perlman recording, there is a slight ebb and flow to the line, but just when you think it’s about to

“take off” the way most interpretations do in m. 151 for instance it falls right back into the original tempo. Devoid of much vibrato, any slides and, interest of sound color, I don’t see this tempo choice working to the performer’s advantage other than to set her interpretation apart from her peers.

Conclusion: Are the Best Years Really Behind Us?

So now that the aesthetic tendencies of multiple prominent violinists spanning a century have been discussed, what patterns have emerged? Well, for one the standards for accuracy have certainly gone up since the Kreisler and Elman days. It’s doubtful a major label would release a recording today with the missed octaves evident in mm. 41 and 42 of the Kreisler recording, while Hillary Hahn is indisputably accurate in her playing. In fact, I would argue that when comparing these two players specifically, the oldest and youngest sampled, Menuhin’s idea that today great technicians are many while true artists are few, seems most legitimate. Kreisler’s playing is entirely musically driven, focusing on the phrase at all times, while the goals of Hahn’s playing can appear primarily technical and devoid of any musical “risk” or much personality; playing it safe so to speak. The difficulty with making broad generalizations about something so subjective as individuality or artistry in playing over time, is that it requires specific and hopefully somewhat quantitative analysis of the playing itself, including comparisons between individual players. However, by assuming this up-close and analytical perspective one can easily be distracted by the variability from player to player, missing the forest for the trees. Paradoxically, the variability from player to player is also, at least to some degree, the issue of contention. So by assuming the Menuhin and Perlman perspective of players now being less individualistic, what are the possible reasons for this? Well for one, the old guard in question were some of the first to be recorded, at least to any recording standard worth listening to, (I’m excluding wax cones here). They themselves did not, “grow-up on recordings” of famous violinists past, like modern day musicians have. When a whole generation of violinists are at once listening to the same

handful of recordings of the same pieces throughout their musical development, one or two of which being widely accepted as definitive versions, it’s arguable that this could cause some degree of homogeneity. Kreisler for instance, did not have a definitive version of Mendelssohn concerto in his ear while making musical decisions in the practice room or on stage (anecdotally, he practiced minimally), so he had to rely more on imagination to form an interpretation. At the same time, he wasn’t listening to a handful of recordings all with perfectly played octaves in mm. 41 and 42 either, which may have led him to think it unacceptable to miss the passage on stage since others were able to play it more accurately, and that’s what the audience would expect. However,

Heifetz who is widely considered to be the most individualistic of violinists, seems to have been heavily influenced by Kreisler’s style, possibly by way of scrutinizing recorded performances the way we do today. Also let’s take into account the logistical fact that the more times a piece has been performed and recorded, the more difficult it becomes to form a new or individual interpretation of the piece. Mendelssohn violin concerto was first premiered in 1845 just thirty years before Fritz Kreisler was born. The creation of new compositions that ultimately gain enough popularity to enter the cannon of widely performed repertoire is essential to the perceived individuality of players over time. The more recordings there are of a piece, and the more versions the audience has in their ear, the more difficult it is to make one’s interpretation stand out. It is during the period of the first group of player’s careers that the violin repertoire became largely standardized, at least as far as the “favorites” are concerned. Sure, new pieces and concerti continue to be performed to this day, but are not heard nearly on the scale of the dozen or so concerti that are played a large percentage of the time. For the old guys,

many of whom like Kreisler who were still carrying on performer/composer tradition,

Ysaye and Paganini, much of the repertoire that is now standardized was then “new music”; fresh to their audience’s ears as well as their own. The preconceptions and musical traditions associated with these pieces today simply hadn’t yet had the time to develop. For this reason, perhaps there is a certain kind of individuality among the first group that was allowed to form due to the lack of the influence by so many previous definitive performances.

One stylistic element that is absent from playing today, at least in the way that it existed in the past is a certain brand of rubato. Exemplified best by Kreisler and Heifetz perhaps, this concept operates on the idea that rhythms are just about never played metronomically, especially in lyrical passages such as the second theme material earlier discussed. Rather, the written rhythms serve a larger musical line which is always moving in one direction or another, a flexibility, or push and pull. While all of the modern violinists do of course phrase to some degree, often in similar ways to the violinists of the past since some phrasing is just implicit in the music itself, this is a different thing than the rubato ever present in many older player’s interpretations. I would argue that this kind of rubato falling out of fashion, robs modern violinists of a somewhat powerful tool to set themselves apart from one another. Another interpretive

“seasoning” that has been reduced over time is the use of slides or portamenti. Kreisler slides from note to note nearly as often as he does not. Where one chooses to put these slides, and the texture of the slides themselves, both serve as sonic fingerprint since no two players, modern or otherwise, slide exactly alike. Fewer slides equates to fewer fingerprints and therefore less opportunity to identify the perpetrator. I feel like the shift

away from these two elements in particular have much to do with Perlman and

Menuhin’s aforementioned points of view, however many measures of variability from player to player, although perhaps subtler, still remain. I would argue that a focus on vibrato alone would be enough to pick out the modern group of violinists from one another if one had spent sufficient time listening to each player, which brings us to another point. It takes a decent time investment listening to a specific player to begin to identify that players voice, much like how we can recognize the voice of loved ones over the phone, but not someone we have only spoken to once briefly. How much time has

Perlman spent listening to recordings of the list of violinists he mentions to be such

“individuals”? Hours and hours to be sure, these were his heroes. I very much doubt he has spent the same amount of time scrutinizing the interpretations of Hillary Hahn and

Maxim Vengerov.

The subscribers to the idea that the great players of the past are artistically superior to modern players, and this belief’s detractors are on two sides of a highly complex and subjective debate that due to its nature, can never be won or solved. There are certainly strong points on both sides of this argument. There are some objective measures by which players of the past seem to stand apart from one another to a greater degree than today’s players, however, there are cultural and logistical reasons behind this fact and it does not discredit the artistry of modern performers, who are a product of current aesthetic trends, escalating technical standards, and the artists who came before them.

Bibliography

The Art of Violin. Written and directed by Bruno Monsaingeon (2000; Los Angeles, CA: 2001, NVC Arts), DVD

Addiobelpassato. “Misha Elman “Violin Concerto in e minor” Mendelssohn (1.Mov.)”. Filmed [May 1959]. YouTube video, 13:16. Posted [Oct 2011]. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z0T2ZG1oVSU

B. F. “Correspondence.” Music and Letters XXXI, no. 2 (April 1950): 183.

Kanaal van viool7. “Mendelssohn-Violin Concerto in e minor op 64 (Complete)”. Filmed [1958]. YouTube video, 27:30. Posted [Nov 2013]. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZwW4oruwyJU

My Violin Channel. “Anne Sophie-Mutter - Mendelssohn Violin Concerto in E minor, Op. 64 - Kurt Masur”. Filmed [Feb 2009]. YouTube video, 28:59. Posted [Jul 2014]. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K67o86CS5uo

Shellac1925’s channel. “Mendelssohn: Violin Concerto (Heifetz)”. Filmed [Jun 1949]. YouTube video, 24:18. Posted [Apr 2012]. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N0tqdhbnpn8

SuperTheseus. “Mendelssohn Violin Concerto E Minor Op. 64 (full length) Hilary Hahn & FRSO”. Filmed [Jun 2012]. Posted [Jun 2013]. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o1dBg__wsuo

Uchukyoku1. “Fritz Kreisler - Mendelssohn: Violin Concerto Op.64 - 1st Mov. (1926)”. Filmed [1926]. YouTube video, 11:51. Posted [Jun 2014]. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ctS1JVeZMn8

Wmd10. “Perlman and Barenboim-Mendelssohn Concerto E Minor(1)”. Filmed [May 1997]. YouTube video, 6:15. Posted [Jun 2008]. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kGVNpkM7YPE

Xoreaxeax9. “Mendelssohn, Violin Concerto in E minor Op. 64 - I. Allegro molto”. Filmed [1993]. YouTube video, 12:59. Posted [Sep 2013]. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kt6vchVn9Wo

Figure 1

Figure 2