The two Shostakovich violin concertos hardly suffer from lack of excellent modern recordings, as Ilya Kaler (Naxos), Lydia Mordkovitch (Chandos), Dimitry Sitkovetsky (Virgin), and several other first rate soloists cogently prove. Yet to hear David Oistrakh's artistry operating in music that Shostakovich specifically tailored to the violinist's all-encompassing technique and wide expressive gamut is tantamount to being present at the creation. Oistrakh recorded the First Concerto three times: twice in mono (Mitropoulos/New York, Mravinsky/Leningrad), and in a fine stereo remake that's never been on CD, with the composer's son Maxim at the helm of the New Philharmonia Orchestra. Several live versions have been published as well, including the American premiere with Mitropoulos and a 1957 Prague Festival traversal with Mravinsky leading the Czech Philharmonic.

This 1962 Edinburgh Festival recording essentially confirms rather than adds to what we know of Oistrakh's way with this score, from his meditative eloquence in the Nocturne and soaring intensity in the Passacaglia, to the effortlessly gauged mood swings in the cadenza and the controlled excitement he generates in the Burlesca. I prefer the superior balances of the Mitropoulos studio recording and that conductor's weightier, bass-oriented Passacaglia, as well as the tighter solo/orchestra exchanges in Mravinsky's Scherzo (especially in Prague, where the Czech winds truly amaze).

Oistrakh's 1968 Royal Albert Hall performance of the Second Concerto does not differ substantially from the excellently engineered world premiere recently reissued by RCA (type q1692 in Search Reviews). Pressed to choose I'd opt for the RCA, chiefly because of Kyril Kondrashin's edgier conducting and the Moscow Philharmonic's slightly tauter ensemble work in the Finale. Lastly, Igor Oistrakh joins his father for Eugene Ysaÿe's Amitié. This rhapsodic, evocative symphonic poem deserves a better fate than the oblivion it now enjoys, but the father-and-son team's rapturous give-and-take certainly honors what the composer had in mind. Neither should Malcolm Sargent's plush, forward-moving support go unnoticed. Excellent notes cap this admirable if perhaps not really essential release.

--Jed Distler