Although he has made some fine records, Igor Oistrakh must always have sensed his father's shadow somewhere in the background of his career. This recital, however, shows what a splendidly strong artistic personality he is in his own right. What he has clearly inherited from his father is the grand manner, combined with a marvellous sense of authoritative poise. None of this music is trivial but much of it—though not the splendid Schumann Fantasie—can sound lightweight, but not here. The Wieniawski Legende without being inflated has stature and emotional eloquence on his bow, and the Polonaise brillante brings a natural brilliance and a crisp, infectious idiomatic flair. One almost feels the need to tap one's feet, so strong is the rhythmic lift.
The two Paganini pieces show a totally assurred bravura, the higher tessitura of La campanella glitters, yet remains sweet on the ear. The paired Tchaikovsky items are very appealing indeed: the Valse-scherzo has a volatile freedom which is most engaging.
One's only reservations are about the Carmen Fantasy, very much a patchwork of hits, with the violin assuming the vocal role. Here Oistrakh—although he characterizes strongly, as if thinking about the words—is a little self-conscious, the effects calculated, rather than dazzling the ear with a combination of joy and high spirits. But Bizet's tunes cannot fail to appeal when presented with such sophistication. The recording is very real indeed; those who think digital techniques produce an artificial presence should sample this. It was made in London's Henry Wood Hall and John West, the producer, with engineer, Mike Hatch, placed their microphones in exactly the right place: the violin timbre is real without exaggeration of the higher partials, the balance with the piano appearing just about right.'