Principal competition for these performances comes from RCA’s complete Heifetz Edition. The Brahms appears in Volume 4, the Beethoven in Volume 5. Both of these versions are superceded by Heifetz’s stereo remakes with Reiner/Chicago and Munch/Boston respectively, so unless you feel desperately in need of bad sound and every scrap that Heifetz, Toscanini, or Koussevitzky recorded, there’s little point in lingering here. For those among you unfamiliar with these particular readings, let’s look a bit more closely at each.
The Beethoven (rec. 1940) is of course a valuable document of a unique artistic partnership, and therefore of considerable interest. It’s a performance of exquisite refinement, classical poise, and an almost monkish austerity. Tully Potter in his notes to this issue mentions a lack of “spiritual” qualities. I disagree. If “spiritual” means anything, then it must apply to a rendering of precisely this kind: pure and unfailingly noble in its chastity and simple dignity. What this version lacks, and what Heifetz captured in his stereo remake, is more of the music’s healthy profanity: that quality of Beethoven’s in which the greatest victories are always won, as Tovey first pointed out, in the light of common day. In short, the later performance is no less perfect, but it’s more fun. It smiles once in a while, as the music should.
The Brahms (rec. 1939) never has been a preferred edition of the piece. Heifetz plays very well, naturally, but a bit impersonally. In some of the rapid-fire passagework in the first movement and finale, he’s inclined to push the tempo and sounds impatient, while Koussevitzky’s contribution is solid and workmanlike, but no more. He’s particularly stiff in the main theme of the finale, which lacks charm and a feeling of the dance. The comparison to Heifetz’s remake with Reiner is striking. This is one of the great musical collaborations in recorded history: two fierce perfectionists who see eye to eye on virtually every detail. Hearing the way Reiner shapes the woodwind lines at the opening of the slow movement is to understand that this performance enshrines a meeting of true equals. Koussevitzky simply doesn’t compare.
Notwithstanding any of the above remarks, let’s assume that you still want one or both of these versions. Now the question becomes: which transfer should you own? Certainly not this one. I sat down with a few colleagues and did a “blind” listening comparison between this incarnation and the Heifetz Edition transfers. The RCA versions won hands down. Whether due to the condition of his source material or simple over-filtering, Mark Obert-Thorn’s remastering efforts yield sonics that are muffled, boomy (especially in the Beethoven), and seriously lacking in treble. This plays havoc with the timbre of Heifetz’s violin: the lack of overtones and high frequency information makes him sound thin, colorless, and even sometimes off-pitch. The difference is particularly startling in the Beethoven concerto, which on RCA has vibrancy and an up-front vividness that gives the performance more of the earthy, bold qualities that it otherwise seems to lack. In the Brahms, Obert-Thorn has tamed some of the over-brightness that characterizes RCA’s edition, but once again to the detriment of the true Heifetz sound. You can obtain a better result at home with the RCA by simply turning down the treble a bit if the stridency bothers you.
The current flood of historical reissues is motivated by the fact that most pre-1950 recordings are now public domain. Anyone who owns the performance as originally issued can, at least theoretically, release their own CD of it without paying a nickel in royalties. This is perfectly legal, and often highly desirable, especially given how the major labels have treated the priceless legacy that their catalogs represent. However, if the original source material has been carefully preserved and restored, its owner may still retain a sonic advantage over competing reissues. So it proves here. As ever-increasing quantities of historical material become available from non-original sources, it’s going to be very much a case of caveat emptor: let the buyer beware. [6/5/2000]
