Anyone listening to this admirable set will gain an accurate impression of David Oistrakh’s overall playing style, his poise, composure, interpretative finesse, velvety tone and highly sophisticated musicianship. Various of the works programmed are – or have been – available in alternative Oistrakh recordings (the Tchaikovsky and Brahms concertos in around six versions apiece), but Melodiya’s selections are, in general, judiciously chosen. The Tchaikovsky Concerto is represented by a 1968 concert performance that marked Oistrakh’s 60th birthday (EMI once released the same recording on an Oistrakh video), a flexibly phrased, generously expressive account, subtly different from its best-known forebears (namely under Konwitschny and Ormandy) and significantly unlike Oistrakh’s more overtly virtuoso first recording of the piece, from 1939 (currently available on Russian Disc). By 1968, the tone was drier and the approach more accommodating to the whim of the moment.
Both here and in the accompanying Sibelius items, Rozhdestvensky’s perceptive conducting is a notable extra bonus. The Sibelius Concerto is compellingly dark-hued (this is surely Oistrakh’s finest recorded account of the score), whereas the far earlier (mono) recordings of the Brahms and concertos Dvorak concertos – both of which are ably conducted by Kyrill Kondrashin – disclose a winning equanimity, ravishing tone, crisp articulation and a closely balanced solo image. Oistrakh’s tone and technique were probably at their best during the 1940s and 1950s.
The 1949 Dvorak Concerto performance surely influenced Josef Suk’s classic recording of a few years later (the one conducted by Karel Ancerl), but when it comes to the Brahms Concerto, fond as I am of this recording (dating from 1951), I would still urge readers to investigate the superb 1963 live performance on Revelation – also under Kondrashin – which is rather more spontaneous.
The live duo-sonata performances with Sviatoslav Richter – all of which date from the late 1960s or early 1970s – combine assertively masculine pianism with a confidential, sometimes husky thread of violin tone, the tender anima, perhaps, to contrast against Richter’s bold animus. The two together make for some indelible dialogue, the Brahms urgent and imploring, the Franck majestic, the Bartok gritty but playful and the Shostakovich – a work which is dedicated to Oistrakh – quietly conversational. Readers wanting to complete an Oistrakh Brahms sonata ‘cycle’ are directed to a fine performance of the First Sonata with Lev Oborin on Revelation.
The disc of “Pieces for Violin and Piano” contains a number of rarities, including two beautiful Schumann arrangements, Leopold Auer’s of the song Widmung and Fritz Kreisler’s of the lovely Romance in A major, Op. 94 No. 2. Both are prime examples of a relatively young David Oistrakh in ‘miniature mode’, as are four Brahms Hungarian Dances and Paul Kochansky’s skilful transcriptions of six of Falla’s Seven Popular Spanish Songs. The mono recordings, which here date from the late 1940s and early 1950s are mostly very good indeed. Documentation and transfers are first-rate.'