If you love violin miniatures–and there are 39 of them on this 70-minute program–most of which are composed in a quaint if solidly constructed Victorian parlor-song style, you’re in luck with this set of works by American Cecil Burleigh (1885-1980). Of course, music such as this that emphasizes sprightly, lyrical, singing melodies supported by full-textured, sometimes very dramatic/sometimes light and playful piano accompaniments is a perfect vehicle for the violin’s widely expressive “vocal” characteristics. And if conceived by a composer who really knows the instrument’s possibilities, such pieces can pack in a lot of opportunities for the soloist to dazzle an audience with cute, smart, entertaining technical feats.
We get all of that here, to varying degrees–most of these little songs are fairly routine tunes that just happen to be played by a violin. Nothing special. But several really do stand up to the level of good concert encores, particularly the lively Bolero with its final left-hand pizzicato run, the swirling, whirling, oddly titled Fairy Sailing (part of the set of Six Fancies from 1917), and the intensely emotive Reapers. Burleigh shows a knack for serious melody with his slower pieces, namely Legend and Mammy’s Lullaby (both from Five Indian Sketches), Dew (from the aforementioned Six Fancies), and the very beautiful Lament of a Rose, which at nearly three minutes is the longest on the program. He also reveals his thorough knowledge of the violin (he was a noted performer and teacher) with pieces such as Early Morning and Winding Stream that fall ideally under the fingers and across the strings and intelligently use different registers for color.
Zina Schiff is a fine enough player (the liner notes make it very clear that she was a protégé of Heifetz) but her tone is steely and often harsh–partly attributable to the engineering, partly to her too-close proximity to the microphone, and partly just her instrument and playing style. It’s a little hard on the ear, especially if you try to listen to the whole program at one sitting. In the opening piece, Impromptu, her legato is a bit tentative in its flow (the final long-held harmonic is roughly bowed) and the pianist, who for this and the final selection happens to be Schiff’s 16-year-old daughter, is too measured and square.
Most listeners today will raise an eyebrow or two at Burleigh’s Five Indian Sketches and Plantation Sketches with their stereotypical musical language (in the former) and unbefitting titles (“Pickaninnies” in the latter), but for the most part this music is sincerely felt and honestly representative of a particular period of American music history. Unfortunately the balance heavily favors the violin which at louder dynamic levels becomes simply overbearing. Apparently, Schiff’s daughter also was the disc’s producer, credited with keeping her mother focused on Heifetz’s advice (“It’s all in the details, Zina.”); she also should have exercised another critical producer prerogative and ordered mom to “step back from the microphone, please!”
