Violinists Of To Day

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ENVELOPE CORP.

VIOLINISTS

of To-da

y

by 3
DONALD BROOK

SALISBURY SQJJARE
LONDON

COPYRIGHT 1948
REPRINTED 1949

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION . . . . ,;-';. XII

PAUL BEARD

England's No. i orchestral leader Birmingham
Child prodigy R.A.M. City of Birmingham Orchestra
BBC Symphony Orchestra Tours abroad Honours
Rich personality Relaxation Advice to music
students The Proms Life in the Orchestra The art
of violin-playing Paul Beard at home . . i

ANTONIO BROSA

Spain Early days Belgium A setback London
His famous Quartet Specialization Benjamin Britten's
Concerto Brosa's style . . . .8

ADOLF BUSCH

A great classical violinist Cabinet-maker's son
Student days London debut Vienna Berlin The
Busch Quartet Style of playing America Busch and
Hitler Busch's technique A famous Strad New York 14

ALFREDO CAMPOLI

Return to classical music Rome Early training
Boy prodigy Honours The slump in music Light
music Wartime Repertoire CampolTs extraordinary
technique Gymnastic displays Methods A fine
record library Personal notes . . .20

RAYMOND COHEN

A promising young violinist Music at school Man-
chester Halle Orchestra War A young musician's
reactions to barrack life Culture in the army
Difficulties Carl Flesch Award John Barbirolli
Cohen's ideas on music and violin-playing . 25

MISCHA ELMAN

Russia Imperial School of Music Almost a catastrophe
St. Petersburg Difficulty with a famous conductor
English debut King Edward Covertt Garden
Technical displays American reaction The Tsar's
exemption Marriage A 10,000 Strad Chamber
music Repertoire A national institution Technical
mastery Elman at home His attitude towards Jazz
Criticism . . . , . 31

debut Soloist with the
a Dresden Philharmonic

Orchestra An important leadership Hindemith and
Feuern^wx America Interned by the Japanese
Rescuing "a* Strad Tours as a soloist . . -40

FREDERICK GRINKE

Tremendous enthusiasm Canada Paying one's way
R.A.M. Kutcher String Quartet With Adolph
Busch and Carl Flesch Offers refused Professorship
R.A.F. Some unusual experiences Boyd Neel
Orchestra Grinke in Fiji A curious keepsake
Recordings Repertoire Grinke's style A stimulating
personality . . . ~. , -45

IDA HAENDEL

A brilliant violinist Poland Carl Flescli Enesco
and Szigeti Robust style Successes Recordings
America Necessity of chamber music Miss Haendel
in private life Crooners . . . 52

JASCHA HEIFETZ

Greatest living violinist Bernard Shaw's advice
Vilna Early studies Auer gets a surprise St. Peters-
burg Cold reception Difficulties Student days A
stampede America Reaction to emotional playing
Shortcomings First visit to England Criticisms
World tours The Jewish problem Musical education
Two precious fiddles Present-day makers Heifetz
with the troops Repertoire Recordings Arrange-
ments Honours His style The Heifetz stories
Heifetz at home Chamber music parties Music in
darkness Temperament Gardener Heifetz on the
&*** . 57

HENRY HOLST

Danish origin An interesting background Boyhood
memories Copenhagen Student days Berlin Phil-
harmonic Orchestra A strenuous life Artistic indepen-
dence Professorship Manchester Loyalty in the

North Philharmonia Quartet Recordings Tours

Style Taste in music What is good music ? Hoist's
ideas about teaching The English audience Personal
notes , . . . . . 7i

VI

FRITZ KREISLER

Veteran violinist Vienna Boyhood Paris Musical
drudgery Premier Grand Prix Visit to America
Disillusionment Music forsaken Kreisler as medical
student As an art student Student life in Paris
Kreisler as an officer Return to music A lengthy
struggle America again A romance Fame Kreisler
in wartime A war casualty War charities
Antagonism Return to public life Popular concerts
A tremendous hoax Kreisler attacked An explana-
tion A street accident Kreisler and the wounded
His views on broadcasting Kreisler's priceless violins
and their story His style, cultural background and
opinions Compositions and recordings Personality
A great philanthropist A keen scholar Kreisler in
society Dislike of practising His methods . . 78

NONA LIDDELL

A star of tomorrow? A Londoner Education
Amateur theatricals Her debut Modern music
Brussels Her ideals Taste in literature Recreations 91

ALAN LOVEDAY

Another brilliant young violinist New Zealand
London Albert Sammons Debut Praise by the
critics A good start Remarkable technical ability
A lover of Bach An unaffected artist * . -94

THOMAS MATTHEWS

Birkenhead Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra Halle"
Orchestra Carl Flesch Solo work Finland London
Philharmonic Orchestra Britten's Concerto British
artists His methods How to practise Advice to
young violinists Chess . . , 97

ISOLDE MENGES

Rashly optimistic parents Childhood Leopold Auer
Queen's Hall American and Canadian tour
Concerts for children Germany Menges Quartet
Professorship Advice to students of the violin
Technique and interpretation Her taste in music
Booklover Animals . . . .103

VII

YEHUDI MENUHIN

Jewish parents Childhood Prodigy Amazing skill
What the critics said Albert Einstein Yehudi in high
society Toscanini Some amusing incidents Menuhin
and Elgar Tours General education Hephzibah
Menuhin Withdrawal Reappearance An accom-
plished musician A robust young man Recreations
Unspoilt by wealth Menuhin in wartime Work
for charities The art of Menuhin His methods His
famous Strad Recordings . . . .108

NATHAN MILSTEIN

Odessa Two famous masters Early struggles Con-
ditions in Russia Horowitz Paris Astonishing tech-
nique Stokowski American citizen Milstein's style
Admirers in England His interpretations In private
life His famous Strads . . . . 119

GINETTE NEVEU

Sweeping successes Early days in Paris Carl Flesch
England Jean Neveu Her artistic principles
Sibelius Concerto A strongly marked personality . 125

JEAN POUGNET

Not a Frenchman Boyhood An early debut Dance
music BBC Salon Orchestra Leadership of the L.P.O.
Soloist Restrained style Recordings Idealist At
home ...... 129

MAX ROSTAL

A great teacher Austria His masters Professorship
in Berlin Rostal and the Nazi Party Arrival in
England Wartime difficulties An accident Guild-
hall School of Music Editing Beethoven's cadenzas
Modern music RostaPs ideas Interpretation
Essentials for the violinist Style Advice to young
players His pupils The Rostal Strad Rostal at
home Art His studio . . . . 134

ALBERT SAMMONS

Honoured British violinist His art A typical English-
man A Londoner Not an easy life Earning his own
living Early engagements Self-taught Rank and file
musician Discovered by Sir Thomas Beecham The
Elgar Concerto Sammons in the Guards Petition
to the Ministry of Labour His repertoire Balance and
control Recording difficulties A shock Sammons and
the engineers Champion of the British musician
Advice to violinists His superb Gofriller Sammons
in private life ..... 142

VIII

COLIN SAUER

Promising young artist Unusual intellect Musicians
with one-track minds Ilford Schooling Orchestral
experience London recitals Repertoire Style His
method of practising His outlook Love of sport
Wimbledon . . . . . -15?

TOSGHA SEIDEL

An emotional player Odessa Pupil of Auer Scandin-
avia America London Columbia Broadcasting
System His recreations Seidel on the films In the
U.S. Navy . . . . . .163

JOSEPH SZIGETI

An intellectual artist Budapest Pupil of Hubay
London debut Gifted but unspoilt boy Geneva
United States His restrained style Honours World
tours A narrow escape An interesting personality
Modern music Repertoire Recordings His methods
His interests No snobbery Cultural value of sport 167

JACQUES THIBAUD

Master of the French School Bordeaux A sensitive
boy Paris A cafe in the Latin Quarter Golonne
Orchestra Opportunity Tours Patriot War service
French Intelligence Service His beautiful violins
His style Social value of music The critical attitude
Chamber music. . . . . . 175

MARIE WILSON

An ambition fulfilled Childhood Necessary induce-
ment R.C.M. Invitation from the BBC A tribute
Life in the BBC Symphony Orchestra Her popularity
Professorship Soloist again Style Repertoire Op-
portunities for good players to-day Advice to students
of the violin No affectation Literary taste Culinary
art . . . . . .180

EF*REM ZIMBALIST

Another Russian With Auer at St. Petersburg London
America World tours His art Composer Interest
in contemporary music A genial personality His
parties An evening with Zimbalist Collector
Library His ancient instruments and his famous
Strad . . . . . .188

IX

LIST OF PLATES

I JASCHA HEIFETZ
II ANTONIO BROSA

III PAUL BEARD

IV ADOLF BUSCH .
V MISCHA ELMAN .

VI ALFREDO CAMPOLI
VII SZYMON GOLDBERG
VIII HENRY HOLST .
IX FREDERICK GRINKE
X IDA HAENDEL .
XI ALAN LOVEDAY .
XII NONA LIDDELL .

XIII FRITZ KREISLER.

XIV THOMAS MATTHEWS
XV YEHUDI MENUHIN

XVI ISOLDE MENGES .
XVII NATHAN MILSTEIN
XVIII JEAN POUGNET .
XIX GINETTE NEVEU .
XX MAX ROSTAL
XXI ALBERT SAMMONS
XXII TOSCHA SEIDEL .

XXIII JACQUES THIBAUD

XXIV MARIE WILSON .
XXV COLIN SAUER .

XXVI EFREM ZIMBALIST
XXVII JOSEPH SZIGETI .
XXVIII RAYMOND COHEN

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XI

INTRODUCTION

THE purpose of this volume is to provide the music-
lover with a convenient collection of short biographies
of some of the violinists we hear to-day. In it are
portrayed "artists of fame and promise", as the proprie-
tors of those excellent little galleries in Leicester Square
would say, and it is perfectly obvious that the degree
of fame enjoyed by the subjects varies enormously. A
good proportion of British violinists are included
because it is time we realized that this country can
produce fine executants as well as brilliant composers,
and there are a few very young players whose careers
are likely to be interesting if they are given a fair
chance.

It should be quite clear that no attempt has been
made to produce a comprehensive collection, for that
would be impossible without an unlimited supply of
paper, and the absence of any particular artist does
not mean that his or her merits have been overlooked.

Most of the information in this book I have gathered
personally over a number of years and in recent
interviews with the subjects concerned, but in the case
of one or two foreign artists, some of whom I have been
able to see for only very short periods, the facts gathered
have been supplemented by their friends or other
persons acquainted with their careers. In such cases,
however, I have done my best to check their statements,
and in this process I have consulted as many periodicals
and reference books as possible, and I wish to acknow-
ledge my indebtedness to such publications as The
Stead, The Musical Times, Musical Opinion, Current
Biography and David Ewen's Living Musicians (EL W.
Wilson Company of New York), as well as certain
other publications mentioned in the text.

I also wish to thank all those artists who have so
kindly given up a great deal of their time in assisting
me, and to one or two other people who have helped
in a variety of ways, especially Miss G. M. O'Connor

XII

of Messrs. Harold Holt Ltd., Miss A. Hurst of Ibbs
and Tillett Ltd., and Miss Lereculey of the same firm.

If this volume gives pleasure to music-lovers and is
of some small service as a book of reference for much
of the information in it will not be found elsewhere
it will have fulfilled its purpose.

DONALD BROOK.
Autumn, 1947

XIII

PAUL BEARD

TO some, it may seem odd that a book devoted
primarily to solo violinists should open with a sketch
of an eminent orchestral leader. This is, of course, due
to the fact that in order to avoid all questions of
precedence the subjects in this collection of biographies
are arranged alphabetically. But even if that were not
the case, it would not be at all inappropriate to write
first of all about Paul Beard because he holds a peculiar
place in English music: a key position, as it were, of
special significance. He has done quite a substantial
amount of solo work in his time, but it is more as
England's No. i orchestral leader that he now claims
our attention. He stands as representative of orchestral
playing at its highest level, and of a body of hard-
working musicians who are too often taken for granted
by those whose sense of proportion is apt to be un-
balanced by the glamour that inevitably surrounds the
soloist. Moreover, that reference to hard-working
musicians applies not only to the members of the
BBC Symphony Orchestra but to all who comprise
the symphony orchestras of this country.

He was born in Birmingham on 4 August, 1901,
son of a viola player who spent the greater part of his
life in orchestras and chamber music ensembles. He
was brought up in a musical environment, since all
the family were interested in the art, and started to
learn the violin when he was but three years of age
under the guidance of his father. His first public
appearance was made when he was six: a great success

2 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

that established him as a child prodigy. A drawerful
of photographs still in his possession reveals that he was
an extremely good-looking lad, and one cannot help
wondering how many old ladies 3 hearts were touched
by this Eton-collared phenomenon. Actually, he was
somewhat less cherubic than he appeared, for he was
a typical English schoolboy, full of fun and mischief,
and quite as fond of cricket as of music.

He toured England as a boy violinist until 1914,
when two scholarships took him to the Royal Academy
of Music to study under Rowsby Woof. He did very
well there, since his scholarships were extended, and
wrote a violin concerto which was performed in the
Queen's Hall at one of the Academy concerts.

His student days over, he returned to his native city
and resumed solo and quartet work, doing in addition
as much teaching as his fairly frequent Continental
tours would permit. Then, in the early nineteen*
twenties, he accepted the leadership of the City of
Birmingham Orchestra, which was then conducted by
Appleby Matthews, a prominent local musician. Dr.
Adrian Boult succeeded Matthews in 1924, and Paul
Beard led for him throughout his six years 5 sojourn in
the midland capital. Boult was succeeded in 1930 by
Leslie Heward, and Paul Beard stayed with the orchestra
until 1932 when Sir Thomas Beecham invited Mm to
lead the old London Philharmonic Orchestra. He
worked under the dynamic baton of "Tommy" for
four years; then, in the autumn of 1936, succeeded the
late Arthur Gatterall as leader of the BBC Symphony
Orchestra.

Paul Beard accepted a professorship at the Royal
College of Music in 1937, or thereabouts, and held that
position until the outbreak of the war, when the BBC
Symphony Orchestra was evacuated to Bristol. In 1942
Sir Henry Wood felt that the Royal Academy of
Music needed the services of a first-class leader for

Annie Freidberg

A \TTOTNJTO BROS A

PAUL BEARD

PAUL BEARD 3

the training of good orchestral players, so he
recommended that Paul Beard, who was then with the
BBC Orchestra at Bedford and who had already been
elected a Fellow of the Academy, should be offered a
professorship. Although he had previously been on the
staff of the rival establishment at Kensington, Beard
accepted the offer, and since that time has done very
valuable work in preparing young violinists for orchestral
appointments. It is his ambition to establish a really
sound body of young orchestral players in this country.
He declares that there is truly remarkable talent among
the rising generation which, if properly cultivated, will
enable this country to lead the world in ensemble playing
before very long.

He was the youngest leader in England to complete
twenty-five years as a leader of first-class professional
orchestras, for in addition to the major appointments
already mentioned, he spent some years in leading
such ensembles as the ill-fated National Orchestra of
Wales, the Spa Orchestra at Scarborough, and the
Llandudno Orchestra. His experience has been wide
and varied. Apart from an enormous amount of
symphonic work, he has played for opera and ballet,
in trios, quartets and other chamber groups, and has
not scorned even light music.

Paul (as everybody seems to call him: one rarely
hears a reference to "Mr. Beard") has played under
almost every conductor of importance in the world,
from Toscanini downwards. What a musical education
that has been 1 He has also met scores of contem-
porary composers of all nations, and been privileged to
discuss their works with them.

When the BBC Symphony Orchestra visited Paris
early in 1947, Paul Beard and Sir Adrian Boult were
awarded the Ami de Paris (something like the freedom
of the city) and like other recipients of this honour, were
each presented with an etching of Notre-Dame by
Robert Garni.

4 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

This is but one of the many honours Paul has
received. Perhaps it should also be said that he has been

Presented to every member of the Royal Family since
eorge V. In June 1947 he was presented to Queen
Wilhelmina when the BBC Symphony Orchestra visited
Holland.

He is such a rich personality that it is not surprising
to find that his interests are extremely varied. Consider
his recreations: golf, tennis, cricket, swimming, shooting,
fishing, rowing, gardening, billiards, snooker, poker . . .
there seems to be no end to the list. He can talk about
them, especially cricket and football, for hours on end.
But even that is not the sum of his interests : he is very
fond of the theatre and can discuss a play like any
critic, and if you happen to catch him with a book it
will probably be something by John Galsworthy, Richard
Aldington, Neil Bell, Somerset Maugham, Aldous
Huxley or Bernard Shaw. For sheer relaxation he
favours a thriller of the better type, but it must be well
constructed and logical.

Relaxation is a subject upon which he holds strong
views. He feels it is absolutely essential that a musician
should be able to get away from music completely at
times, otherwise he cannot hope to keep up to the high
standard of physical fitness that his work demands.
Few people realize the strain placed upon orchestral
players when they are giving half-a-dozen or more,
concerts a week with two or three rehearsals for each
of them. The life of the musician is not an easy one,
and he feels that this should be made plain to students
before they make up their minds to enter the profession.
A really gifted student should be able to make
excellent progress by doing no more than four hours*
hard practising a day. If he tries to do more it will
probably avail him nothing, since it is useless to practise
when one is jaded: it can even do no small amount of
harm. Paul recommends two hours in the morning and
two in the evening, each session to be divided by an

PAUL BEARD 5

hour's complete break. If this plan is followed, the
afternoon should be regarded as a time for relaxation
of some sort anything unconnected with music. It is
only by planning one's time on lines such as these that
one can be sure of approaching music with a fresh,
clear mind. That is absolutely essential to healthy
artistic development : Paul has seen plenty of promising
young talent utterly ruined through lack of respite for
the mind.

He is quite confident about the future of music in
this country: his experience has taught him that if
good music is well played there will always be plenty
of people ready to appreciate it. This, he says, was
proved once again by the 1947 Promenade season, and
now that three orchestras share the work of it and are
allowed sufficient time for rehearsal, he believes that
this splendid institution will go from strength to strength
and become a wonderful memorial to its beloved founder.

It will be noted that, unlike certain supercilious
people in the musical profession, he does not speak of
the Proms in a patronising and slightly contemptuous
tone. The misplaced enthusiasm of some of the
"Prommers" is easily understood when one considers
the number of very young people in the audience who
are still learning to enjoy good music. And who ever
stops learning? Possibly some of the precious people
who speak cynically of the Proms.

Why is it that Paul Beard does not do more solo
work? The answer refutes Sir Thomas Beecham's
famous remark that all orchestral players are disap-
pointed soloists. He actually prefers leading the BBC
Symphony Orchestra to travelling as a virtuoso. When
he was a youth he was given the chance of deciding
which type of work he would prefer, and he deliberately
chose orchestral work, chiefly because of the richer
experience it affords, of the comradeship that one enjoys
in a good orchestra, and of the importance of the job

6 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

generally. Is it so very surprising that he should prefer
to play the vast repertoire of the BBC Symphony
Orchestra, under the finest conductors in the world
and in the company of all his friends, rather than spend
a lonely life dragging a repertoire of a few dozen pieces
around the world and living almost entirely in the
impersonal atmosphere of hotels?

Paul loves the c 'family life" of the orchestra, as he
calls it. There is always plenty of company, always
someone with whom one can swop a story, always
someone willing to come for a pint of bitter . . . always
someone to share a jolly good grouse: that time-honoured
privilege of the Englishman which is about all that
is left to him to-day. But that is not all: he loves
extending a helping hand to some passionately sincere
youngster with a little more than the average skill.
After all, there is always the possibility that some nervous
youth just appointed to the back desk might blossom
forth as the Heifetz of to-morrow. Watch Paul at a
rehearsal of his section when some difficult new work
has to be studied : he will gather even the most junior
members around him and give them the benefit of his
years of experience without making them feel like
schoolchildren.

His sincerity is all the more striking when one recalls
the number of bored faces one so often sees in the ranks
of professional orchestras. "If music doesn't mean any-
thing to you emotionally, 53 he declares, "then leave it
alone." Technique is not everything, for the ability to
play music is not the sole qualification of a musician.
Emotional satisfaction must come first.

Paul Beard is not interested in any eccentric notions
about violin-playing. It is true that he generally uses
only three fingers on the bow, but that is due entirely
to the fact that the little finger of his right hand is
unusually short, and therefore of little use. He attaches
great importance to freedom of movement and graceful
bowing, and considers that the motion of good spiccato

PAUL BEARD 7

bowing is the basis of all movements. He thinks that it
is probably because the left hand needs so much
training that the right is frequently neglected. "When
anything goes wrong at a public performance it is
usually the bow/ 3 he declares.

He was married in 1925 to Joyce Cass-Smith, a
member of a well-known North of England family.
They have two children: Pauline, aged seventeen, who
is studying classical languages, and David, aged fifteen,
who is already an able violinist and hopes to follow his
father's footsteps. Their home is at Wembley Park:
a very pleasant house standing in about an acre of
garden which, Paul insists, he tends himself. How he
finds time to keep those pleasant lawns and extensive
flower beds so trim is a mystery, but when you have
spent a few hours talking to this vivid personality and
he is a great conversationalist you begin to realize
that his energy knows no bounds.

ANTONIO BROSA

ALTHOUGH he is now well-known on both sides
of the Atlantic as a solo violinist of great technical
ability, it is perhaps in the realm of chamber music
that Antonio Brosa has achieved the greatest distinction.
The string quartet that for well over a decade bore his
name was one of the few really first-class ensembles
we possessed, and there were many expressions of
regret when pressure of solo work forced him to disband
it.

He was born in Spain, at Tarragona, in 1894, and
was initiated into the technicalities of music at a very
early age by his father, a bandmaster, who was an
exceptionally fine trumpet player. For some reason,
wind instruments did not make a very strong appeal
to Antonio as a boy, though he loved attending his
father's rehearsals: he "fell" for the fiddle and would
walk about manipulating two sticks in imitation of a
violinist he greatly admired. When he was five, a friend
of the family gave him a half-sized fiddle, and he
practised on it with such zest that within eighteen
months he was allowed to play a piece in public with a
discreet accompaniment by his father's band. His
father rewarded him by a generous addition to that
week's pocket-money, and he was very proud indeed
of having earned his first "fee" so early in life.

The bandmaster was not at all keen for his son to
become a musician, but the lad did so well with his
little fiddle during the next few years that it would
have been a pity to discourage him. When he was ten

ANTONIO BROSA 9

years old he was taken to Barcelona to play before
Mathieu Crickboom, but as that eminent teacher was
just about to return to Belgium it was arranged that the
boy should study with Crickboom's colleague, Enrique
Ainaud. It was at about this time that he made his
first important public appearance. Ainaud was so
pleased with him that he offered to train him at half-
fees. The offer was gladly accepted, for the move to
Barcelona meant that Brosa's father had been obliged
to give up an unusually good appointment. At the end
of the first month, however, Ainaud declared that he
would willingly give the lessons without payment of
any kind.

Brosa's playing soon aroused a great deal of interest,
and after a splendid concert given at the age of fourteen
he was told that the Province of Barcelona had awarded
him an official grant so that he could go to Belgium to
study with Crickboom. Actually, he had already
visited Belgium for lessons with this master, but the
grant made it possible to go again for a much longer
course. Strictly speaking, he was not really entitled
to the grant at all because he was not a native of
Barcelona, but all conditions concerning birth and
residence in the province were waived because it was
felt that he possessed quite remarkable talent,

It is curious to note that during the first twenty-five
years of his life, Brosa was dogged by misfortune: he
met with a series of accidents that might easily have
ended his career as a musician. The worst of them
was when he was involved in a motor accident and
fractured his left arm. He was unaware of the injury
until the last item of a recital he gave immediately
afterwards. In this he had to make an unusual stretch
with his left hand, and as he did so he was conscious
of a sharp pain near his elbow. Fortunately, after a
period of convalescence, he recovered full use of the
arm. On another occasion he was walking along a

10 VJLUi^JLJNJLO 1 D ur JLV^-JL^XX

street in Barcelona when a balcony crashed down on
the pavement only a few yards in front of him. It was
this that made him wonder whether or not he was ill-
fated, and one cannot blame him for making a supreme
effort to get away from Barcelona once and for all!

His progress in Brussels brought him the offer of an
attractive series of engagements for the autumn of 1914,
but luck was still against him, for the outbreak of war
in August of that year compelled him to flee to England.
He arrived in London with twenty-five francs, and
knew not a soul. It was a bewildering experience, and
he began to wonder whether he would have to play
in the streets. Fortunately, he received the assistance of
an organization that was trying to help refugee
musicians, and in due time was able to get sufficient
work to support himself. He has always been deeply
grateful for the help given to him by Edith Lyttelton,
especially because it was through her that he met his
wife, Margaret Dallas, an artist and a granddaughter
of Sir Charles Santley, the famous singer.

For a while, Brosa accepted various orchestral jobs
in order to pay his way, and his real debut in this
country was not made until 1919, when he gave a
recital that drew a considerable amount of attention
to his outstanding ability.

His famous string quartet was founded in 1925 and
rose to fame quickly. A great encouragement to them
was the invitation they received from the Elizabeth
Sprague Coolidge Foundation to visit America, of
which the outcome was that they toured the United
States in 1931, 1932 and 1934. During the following
four or five years they toured all over the world, but
during that time Brosa's reputation as a soloist was
advancing rapidly, and by 1939 he was so inundated
with demands for his solo services that he was obliged
to disband^ the quartet. Moreover, he had always been
interested in solo work and sensed a disadvantage in

ANTONIO BROSA 11

becoming too well known as leader of the Brosa Quartet,
for it is unfortunately true that in music anybody who
specializes in one particular form of activity is apt to
be looked upon as one who cannot, or does not wish to,
do anything else. In America, for instance, he was
regarded exclusively as a chamber music player until
the spring of 1940. It was on 28 March of that year
that he made his debut as a solo violinist with the New
York Philharmonic Symphony Orchestra, when he
played Benjamin Britten's concerto. This concerto, as
the reader is probably well aware, is a work of extreme
difficulty., and the ease with which Brosa played it
caused a minor sensation among many violinists who
were present. It is perhaps worthy of record that while
Britten was writing this work he frequently called in
Brosa to act as consulting specialist, a fact that drew
from Mr. William McNaught, the editor of the Musical
Times, the remark that the composer had evidently
been engaged in a search for the limit of the possible !
However, Brosa' s success with this concerto brought him a
gratifyingly large number of offers of further engagements.

Despite his decision to concentrate upon solo work,
Brosa led the Pro Arte String Quartet in America for
four years during the early part of the Second World
War, though this was, of course, combined with many
solo appearances in the United States.

In recent years he has given several recitals in
England, and many will recall his excellent broadcasts
on the Third Programme, in which he has been featured
prominently as a soloist. His recital at the Wigmore
Hall on 15 July, 1946, gave us a splendid opportunity
of admiring his wonderful technique, though there
were some criticisms of his style in certain works. In
the Stravinsky Duo Concertante he swept through the
many technical difficulties as if they had been second-
year exercises, and with an ease that compelled admira-
tion. He also gave a very fine rendering of the Max
Bruch Concerto No. i.

12 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

Brosa's style is clean and neat, his intonation is
invariably accurate, and his bowing is quite masterly.
To almost every type of modern work it seems well
suited, but it is not quite so effective in music of the
eighteenth century. His interpretations of the works of
contemporary composers are always conscientious and
sympathetic.

He has not made many recordings in this country
in recent years, the only well-known one being the
Mendelssohn Concerto, for H.M.V.

Brosa has always taken the keenest interest in the
works of modern English composers he played a
great deal of music by Elgar, Vaughan Williams, Bax
and Frank Bridge in Germany before the war, for
instance and of his younger contemporaries he feels
that Britten, Berkeley, Rubbra and Tippett, especially,
are worthy of attention. He also watches carefully the
work of the few Spanish composers that are now trying
to make themselves heard, and has had a concerto
written expressly for him by Robert Gerhard.

When discussing the subject of interpretation with
him, one finds that Brosa places great emphasis upon the
necessity of understanding the "language" of each
composer. Music played without this understanding is
like poetry read in a foreign language by someone who
is entirely ignorant of the meaning of the words: it
may sound quite all right to a casual listener, but to
the serious and attentive person it is robbed of all its
beauty.

Brosa uses the Vesuvius Strad dated 1727, and prefers
a gut A string. He has tried the new nylon strings and
believes that they have great possibilities, though he
rarely uses them in public on account of their tendency
to "whistle".

Although he accepts few private pupils he is fond
of teaching, and has recently been appointed head of
the violin department of Smith College, Northampton,
Mass., with the title of "Artist in residence". His

ANTONIO BROSA 13

duties Include not only teaching but the giving of regular
recitals in the college. It is perhaps of interest to note
that when advising young players he always urges

them not to be afraid of playing In their own way. Too
many violinists are striving to become Imitation
Heifetzes, and that Is a great pity because they are
stifling their own personalities and losing the art and
satisfaction of expressing themselves. He also disap-
proves of the tendency to worship technique above
everything else: the musical world seems to be full of
technicians but true artists are becoming like currants
in the proverbial bun. The value of playing chamber
music as a means of deepening one's interpretative
powers cannot be over-rated: it Is an essential factor
in the training of a good solo artist.

Few of his admirers are aware that Brosa Is quite
an accomplished painter In oils and delights In sketching.
He can also speak no fewer than five languages and is
now engaged in learning a sixth: Russian. His literary
taste is chiefly for good fiction.

Sport of all types has always appealed strongly to
him, and it does not require any very strong temptation
to make him attend a football match. At one time he
was also a splendid tennis player, but he confesses
that in recent years his racquet has fallen into disuse.
Table-tennis and billiards often occupy spare moments
indoors.

ADOLF BUSGH

IN the period between the two world wars, Adolf
Busch succeeded in building up such a fine reputation
as a classical violinist that to-day his name is known and
respected in every country of the world, and it is worth
remembering that he won his laurels, not only as a
soloist whose technique could dazzle the general musical
public, but also as a chamber musician whose profound
artistry could impress the more discriminating type of
listener.

He was born on 8 August 1891 in the Westphalian
town of Siegen, son of a cabinet-maker who had for
years cherished an ambition to make a name as a
professional musician but who had unfortunately been
kept to his trade by financial difficulties. However, this
good craftsman consoled himself by making and playing
violins and running an amateur orchestra, and it was
a great joy to him that his small son should take such
a keen interest in his hobby. When the lad was but three
years of age he was given a fiddle, and it was chiefly
his overwhelming desire to play in his father's little
orchestra that made him practise so assiduously. The
keen sense of music that he had inherited made progress
very rapid, and he had already appeared in public by
the time he reached his sixth birthday.

He was about ten years old when his father decided
that he should have a proper musical education. As a
first move in that direction he was sent to an uncle in
Duisburg so that he could have the advantage of tuition
from the more competent teachers in that city, but he

14

ADOLF BUSCH 15

had not been there a year when the State Director of
Music recognized his great talent and secured his
admission to the Musikalische Hochschule at Cologne.
Here he studied under Willi Hess and Fritz Steinbach,
and, a little later, became a pupil of Bram Eldering.
It is interesting to note that during his student days he
distinguished himself not only as a violinist but as a
composer: he was barely fourteen when he had a com-
plete symphony to his credit.

His elder brother Fritz, who was later to establish
himself as a conductor, was also studying music at the
time, and the strain upon the cabinet-maker's slender
resources became so great that the two brothers had to
accept engagements to play dance music in order to
pay their way.

Concluding his course at the age of eighteen, Adolf
Busch had the honour of performing his own Serenade
for Orchestra at a concert arranged by his college. His
playing on this occasion was particularly brilliant, and
immediately afterwards he began to receive offers of
engagements as a soloist in Berlin and Vienna.

His next move was to Bonn, where he took a short
course of lessons with Hugo Griiters, and, incidentally,
fell in love with that professor's daughter, Frieda. They
married a few years later in 1913.

His successes in Central Europe now led to his first
visit to England, and he made his debut in London in
the spring of 1912. The critics agreed that he was one
of the most promising young violinists they had heard
for many a year. Some idea of their enthusiasm may be
gained from The Strad^ whose critic declared in the
April issue of that year:

"He is a violinist of remarkable calibre and will, I
think, shortly be in the first flight. The playing is
uncompromisingly classical, but the high aims of the
young artist, one feels, are by no means beyond his
reach."

16 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

Commenting on Busch's playing of the Brahms
Concerto the same critic said that although he had not
the polish of some of the other players then before the
public, no one short of Kreisler could approach him for
purity of style and intense beauty of phrasing.

When he was twenty-one, Busch was invited to
become the leader of the Konzertverein Orchestra,
Vienna, which was then being conducted by Ferdinand
Loewe. For five years he held this position, and it was
during this period that he formed the first string quartet
to bear his name.

In 1917, when he was only twenty-six years of age,
Busch was invited to succeed Henry Marteau at the
Berlin Hochschule as chief professor of the violin: the
post that Joachim had held some ten years previously.
This entailed removal to Berlin, of course, and severance
with the Vienna orchestra, but the honour was too
great to refuse. In Berlin he was able to devote more
time to chamber music, and two years after his arrival
in the German capital he founded another string quartet.
This was the Busch String Quartet that was to become
famous all over the world. Its personnel was changed
somewhat during the ensuing twenty years or so, and
the ensemble that did the extensive tours during the
mneteen-thirties consisted of Adolf Busch as leader,
Gosta Andreasson (second violin), Karl Doktor (viola)
and Hermann Busch, the leader's younger brother
('cellist). When the quartet visited England in the
spring of 1947, Adolf Busch's three associates were
Ernst Drucker (second violin), Hugo Gottesmann
(viola) and Hermann Busch.

The many fine recordings made by this quartet
for H.M.V, include five Beethoven quartets: No. n in
F minor, No. 16 in F, No. 14 in C-sharp minor, No. 15
in A minor and No. 18 in F; the Schubert Quartet
in D minor; and, with Reginald Kell playing the
clarinet, the Brahms Quintet in B minor, Opus 115.

Only those who have played in string quartets can

ADOLF BUSCH 17

properly appreciate the tremendous amount of work
that these four musicians did to bring their little
ensemble to such a high standard of excellence. It has
been said that they rehearsed nine hours a day for
many weeks prior to some of their great achievements.
The extensive tour of America that was made in 1939,
for instance, opened with a series of five concerts in
New York before one of the most critical audiences
ever assembled in that city, and a few unfavourable or
indifferent reports in the papers might have adversely
affected the entire tour.

The quartet is now far-famed for its scholarly
readings, impeccable style and the infinite variety of
tone that all four seem to be able to produce with such
ease. One feels that they never play to "make an impres-
sion" : they seem quite lost in the beauty of their work.

To return to the purely biographical aspect of this
sketch: it should be recorded that Adolph Busch's
first visit to America was in 1931 when he made his
debut as a soloist in the Beethoven Concerto with the
New York Philharmonic Symphony Orchestra. His
playing made a deep impression upon Toscanini, and
later in the same year he made a prolonged tour with
the great conductor. In due course a cordial friendship
sprang up between them.

The rise of Hitler to power in Germany was a matter
of great concern to Busch, and although he possessed
no Semitic blood himself, he protested strongly when
the Nazis began their persecution of the Jews. Then
came the official interference in German art, the banning
of music by Jewish composers, and all the other absurdi-
ties and injustices that characterized the National
Socialist regime; so he cancelled all his engagements
and came to England. Later, he moved to Switzerland,
and in 1935 took Swiss nationality. He then declared
that he would never again play in any country that
was not ruled by a free, democratic government.

18 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

Busch's name was now becoming associated with
that of his talented son-in-law, Rudolf Serkin, the
pianist, for they had been giving some excellent recitals
together. Perhaps the most important of these took
place during the 1937-8 season, when they played all
the violin sonatas of Beethoven in New York. In its
report, the New Tork Times declared that the highest
ideals of ensemble playing had been realized. Among
their recordings will be found the Brahms Sonata in
A, Opus 100, No. 2; Schumann's Sonata in A minor,
Opus 105; and the Beethoven "Spring" Sonata in F,
Opus 24, all of which are by H.M.V.

Another of Adolf Busch's organizations is the
ensemble known as the Busch Chamber Players. Their
many activities have included the recording of such
works as all the Bach Brandenburg Concertos for
Columbia, and the same composer's Suites Nos. i in
C, 2 in B minor, 3 in D and 4 in D, for H.M.V., as
well as Mozart's Serenade in D (Serenata notturna, K.239).
Then again there is that delightful trio in which he is
associated with his younger brother and Rudolf Serkin.
These three have not been heard together very often,
it is true, but many music lovers will recall with pleasure
their superb playing of classical trios.

Busch will long be remembered as the possessor
of one of the finest bow arms in existence. His faultless
phrasing one takes for granted, but his superb "elastic"
cantilena is something that only the really great violinists
seem to achieve.

His tone is somewhat harder than that of most
other prominent violinists of the day : a fact that some-
times causes disappointment among those who hear
him in person for the first time, particularly if they
have been listening to a good deal of violin-playing
reproduced by a certain type of radio set. 1 But this

*So many people demand radio sets that produce a woolly,
"luscious" tone, irrespective of what goes into the microphone

DP

Gramophone Co

MISCHA ELMAN

ADOLF BUSCH IV

more metallic tone seems to suit his severely classical
style, and few would wish to hear a "sensuous" tone
from this reserved and somewhat austere artist. He
uses the precious c; Ex- Wiener Strad", dated 1732, which
bears the maker's personal testimony that he made it
in his eighty-ninth year. It is very brown, and heavily
varnished. The tone is unusually rich and even on all
four strings.

Busch has composed a variety of works for violin
and piano, and has shown great understanding of the
human voice in the various songs he has written. His
compositions also include a good deal of chamber music
and a Symphony in E, which the New York Philharmonic
Orchestra performed under the direction of his brother
Fritz in November 1927.

It might be recorded here that Adolf Busch received
a degree of Doctor of Music at Edinburgh University
during a visit to this country in 1935. At the present
time he lives in New York, though one rarely finds him
settled at any place for long, because he still tours
extensively. Almost every musical centre of any
importance in America has received visits from him,
and he always likes to come to England at least once
or twice every year. In 1945 he went to Reykjavik at
the invitation of the Icelandic Government and gave
a series of three recitals.

that manufacturers can scarcely be blamed for adjusting their
wares accordingly. Unfortunately, one can scarcely hope for any
improvement in the taste of the general public so long as a complete
travesty of music is boomed into our cinemas.

ALFREDO GAMPOLI

CAMPOLPS name was associated with light music
for so many years that when he resumed classical work
a few years ago his remarkable technique and deep
understanding of great music came as a surprise to
most of the younger members of the audiences he
delighted. His older listeners, on the other hand, were
more prepared for his welcome return to the concert
hall, for they had many happy memories of his fine
playing of the classics during the early nineteen-
twenties.

Alfredo Campoli was born in Rome in 1906 and had
the good fortune to enjoy a musical environment from
the first. His father (who taught him his art) was a
professor of the violin and leader of the St. Cecilia
Conservatoire in Rome, and his mother was a prominent
dramatic soprano who for several years toured with
Caruso. Consequently, he was trained entirely in the
Italian style. It is interesting to note that his father
used to buy him gramophone records made by the
eminent Italian singer Mattia Battistini (1857-1928),
and always urged him to model his phrasing upon that
of this fine baritone. " Listen to him and copy him
upon your fiddle," his father would say. Thus, if one
may use a term much abused in the world of song,
Campoli acquired a "bel canto" style in his playing,
and it is this that so many people admire to-day. It is
said that Sir Thomas Beecham, in particular, is very
enthusiastic about Campolfs style.

Campoli came to London in 1911 and made his

20

ALFREDO CAMPOLI 21

debut as a violinist when he was very young indeed.
He has now forgotten the exact date, but he remembers
that he was giving regular public recitals when he was
but ten years of age. All manner of prizes were acquired
by him in his childhood, and soon after his twelfth
birthday he was forbidden to enter any more competi-
tions of the festival type, for he had already won seven
first prizes, two gold medals and a silver cup!

We may now pass on to the year 1919, when he
entered the London Musical Festival and won the gold
medal for his playing of Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto.
He received the award from the hands of Princess Mary,
and when he met Her Royal Highness for a second time
some twenty years later, he was particularly gratified
to find that she still remembered their original meeting.

In the year 1921 Gampoli gave a series of six recitals
at the Wigmore Hall and made a very favourable
impression upon the critics. It was as a result of this
that he was approached by the late Lionel Powell and
engaged for a series of International Celebrity subscrip-
tion concerts. So the fifteen-year-old violinist found
himself touring the British Isles with such great
personalities as Melba and Dame Clara Butt and
enjoying it immensely.

For the next few years Gampoli enjoyed a steady
run of successes, but in due course the great slump came,
and the many thousands who had flocked to hear him
became more concerned with the struggle for the
necessities of life than with attendance at violin recitals.
For the professional musician without private means, the
outlook was dark indeed. Some men left the profession
to earn their livelihoods by less precarious means, but
Campoli decided to stick to his job even if it meant
using his skill in slightly less dignified circumstances.
So he formed a small orchestra of his own and under-
took broadcasting and recording of light music- This
saved the situation, and he was still able to accept

22 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

concert engagements from time to time. It should not
be forgotten that even during his "light music days"
Campoli played concertos in various parts of the country,
including Birmingham, Bournemouth and Torquay.

When the Second World War brought a tremendous
demand for the finest music, Campoli disbanded his
orchestra conscription had already begun the process,
anyway and offered his services to E.N.S.A. and
C.E.M.A. Within a few weeks he was touring the
country again giving concerts in military camps,
factories, hospitals and so forth. Realizing that the
revival of interest in music was something that had
come to stay, he spent most of his leisure hours in
rebuilding his extensive classical repertoire. Such
concertos as the Bach E major, the Brahms, Beethoven,
Bruch in G minor, Elgar, Mendelssohn, Paganini in
D, Saint-Saens No. 3 in B minor, Strauss, Tchaikovsky,
Vieuxtemps No. 4 in D minor, Vivaldi and the
Walton, together with two of Mozart's violin concertos
(No. 4 in D and No. 6 in E-flat) and the Lalo concerto
(Symphonie Espagnole) all these, and dozens of violin
sonatas, had to be polished and re-polished in between
those seemingly endless concerts for soldiers, sailors,
airmen and factory workers.

One of Gampoli's earlier successes during the war
years was at a Promenade concert in 1944 when, with
the late Sir Henry Wood and the London Philharmonic
Orchestra, he gave an outstanding performance of
the Brahms Concerto. In the following year he gave a
brilliant interpretation of the Tchaikovsky Concerto
that drew from the critics many enthusiastic references
to his dazzling technique and excellent tone. Since then
he has played with the greater orchestras all over the
country, frequently under the batons of such conductors
as Sir Thomas Beecham, Sir Adrian Boult, Sir Malcolm
Sargent and John Barbirolli, and has made several
meritorious broadcasts.

ALFREDO CAMPOLI 23

For sheer technique, Campoli has few equals in this
country. People who had the pleasure of hearing the
Kreisler arrangement of the Paganini Concerto in D at
a Promenade concert in August, 1946, will for many
years remember his wizardry. Even those who normally
dislike "virtuoso music" of this type admitted that they
had experienced a physical thrill,

It might surprise some people to know that Campoli
does not care for this sort of music personally: he
dislikes these gymnastic displays of his remarkable
technique. His real love is for Brahms his favourite
composer, by the way whose Concerto means more
to him than all the works of the "virtuoso composers"
put together. He also adores Mozart, and to those who
think that Mozart is easy to play he declares emphatically
that the proper interpretation of the music of this genius
demands superb artistry, and nothing less. He realizes
that it is more or less his duty to give the public the sort
of music they want him to play, but he wishes they
would forget about this "brilliant technique" stuff for
a while. He has no desire to be known as a musical
magician.

Although the musical public generally have not had
sufficient opportunity of appreciating it, Gampoli's
particular style seems admirably suited to the works of
Bach: hear him play that difficult unaccompanied
Chaconne, for instance, or the exacting Adagio and
Fugue from the Sonata in G minor, and you will
probably agree that he might well become a Bach
specialist. His refined tone and perfect intonation, and
the delightful way in which he can caress a plaintive
theme these qualities, together with the sparkle he
can put into a vivacious movement, are those that mark
the difference between a mediocre and an inspired
execution of Bach's music. Incidentally, Campoli is the
only violinist in England who has broadcast the Bach
Chaconne four times. He is also remarkably good in the
unaccompanied Partitas, of which he is extremely fond.

24 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

Of Campoli' s many recordings, mention might be
made of the Sonata in G minor by Tartini and the Bach-
Franko Arioso (Decca), the Concerto No. i in G minor
by Max Bruch and the Saint-Saens Introduction and
Rondo Capriccioso, both of which were recorded with
the London Symphony Orchestra under Walter Goehr
for Columbia, and the same company's recording of
Paganini's Moto Perpetuo.

Campoli adheres to the Italian style of playing,
although he regards Heifetz as the greatest living master
of the strings. He uses all his fingers on the bow except
in spiccato passages, when he finds that by lifting the
fourth finger he can make the bow rebound better.
He has used several fiddles during his career: for many
years he preferred a Landolfi, then he changed to a
J. B. Rogrius, but now he generally plays a Guadagnini,
He uses metal-covered "Thomastik" strings, and prefers
this Viennese make to any of the new types now being
made in America. He has tried the new plastic-covered
strings but dislikes them.

As far as possible, Campoli sets aside a period of each
day for practice, believing in the "daily dose" principle.
Then there are sessions of study during which he
write his programme notes, sometimes making use of
his wonderful collection of over 2,000 gramophone
records. These are played on a very fine electric
reproducer that was built to his own specification.

To conclude with a few personal notes: he is an
exceptionally good tennis, bridge and snooker player.
For several years he played table tennis in the London
League and earned the reputation of being one of the
most formidable players in the metropolitan area.
His reading is almost entirely of books on music,
bridge and tennis.

RAYMOND COHEN

THIS book might easily become monotonous if it
dealt with only the more celebrated type of artist, so
let us turn to youth for a diversion and meet a talented
young violinist who, unless we are very much mistaken,
is destined to become one of the leading virtuosi of
to-morrow. Towards the end of 1946 that eminent
conductor John Barbirolli described Raymond Cohen
as "the most brilliantly gifted young English violinist
I have heard for many a day", and as most musicians
concede, Barbirolli is a man of vision.

Manchester has given us some fine musicians, and
Raymond Cohen is justly proud of having been born
in that city in 1919. He had the advantage of a musical
home, since both his parents were and still are
passionately fond of music. His mother would never
have met his father (a gifted amateur violinist) had
music-making not brought them together. So it was
not unnatural that Raymond should have taken to
music at a very early age, as did his brother Cecil,
who, incidentally, is now making an impression in
Manchester as conductor of the orchestra run by the
Adult Education Committee.

Raymond was educated at Manchester Grammar
School where, at the age of eleven, he caused a sensation
by playing superbly at a school concert. As he rose in
the school his thoughts turned more and more towards
music as a possible career, and finally, his doubts about
the precariousness of it were suppressed, if not ex-
tinguished, when at the age of fifteen he won the

25

26 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

Brodsky Scholarship to the Royal Manchester College
of Music and in the same year was honoured with an
engagement to play in the Halle Orchestra. Thus he
earned the distinction of being the youngest member
ever known in that orchestra since its foundation in
1858. He was probably also the youngest member of
a professional orchestra in England at that time.

At the Royal Manchester College he became a
pupil of Henry Hoist, and for four years studied under
that very able violinist. He took the piano as his second
study, and it should also be recorded here that Lionel
Falkman was partly responsible for his musical education.

While he was still a student he received a gratifyingly
large number of engagements : he continued to play in
the Halle Orchestra, and was only eighteen when he
was chosen to lead the Blackpool Orchestra. Then he
was soon to distinguish himself by taking part in chamber
music at the Manchester Tuesday Midday Concerts,
and gradually he was able to rise to local eminence
as a soloist. He claims that when he was only twenty
he had another distinction to his credit: apart from
Yehudi Menuhin he was the only violinist to have
played in this country three concertos at a single
concert. These were the Bach E major, Mendelssohn
and Brahms, which he performed with the Halle
Orchestra on a memorable day in 1940.

War, alas! has respect for neither art nor youth,
and it was with very mixed feelings that Raymond
Cohen received his calling-up papers it was actually
only a few weeks after that triumphant accomplishment
with the three concertos! The beauty and inspiration,
the glamour and thrill, the joy of life that can be so
rich and exciting when youth and talent and great
music all combine all this was now overshadowed.
One does not require much of an imagination to
visualize the disruption in this young man's life; from
the beauty of music-making in a cultured environment

RAYMOND COHEN 27

to the ugliness of barrack life, but Cohen took it all
philosophically, and soon discovered that things have
a way of sorting themselves out that there was quite a
large number of men in the army who were concerned
with something else besides "pools" and "the dogs",
food and women. He found himself, in due course, a
member of the Royal Corps of Signals, where his musical
ability was recognized, and ft: was not long before he
was playing the clarinet in the band. The speed with
which he took to this instrument was really quite remark-
able, and he might have become very fond of it if he
had been given more interesting music to play. There
were also some amusing incidents which, even if they
jarred upon his musical sensitivity, did tend to make
life more colourful. There was the occasion, for instance,
when at the request of his bandmaster he transformed
himself from third clarinettist to solo violinist and
played a battered version of the Mendelssohn Violin
Concerto with military band accompaniment!

Cohen used to ponder a good deal upon army life
and the strange ideas possessed by some of those with
whom he had to rub shoulders, but found as most
Englishmen do sooner or later that the cultivation of
a sense of humour is the best means of preserving one's
sanity in these c * enlightened ' 5 times. His greatest difficulty
was in finding somewhere to practise the long-suffering
fiddle that accompanied him from station to station.
The recreation rooms provided by the military authori-
ties were generally reverberating with jazz, so in order
to keep up his vitally-important practice, Cohen would
go out into the fields or, in wet weather, take his fiddle
to the bathroom, or some less uplifting place, draw forth
tattered leaves of Bach, Brahms, Beethoven or Mozart,
and resolutely prepare himself for a career in the
wonderful post-war world that he was hearing so much
about.

Such stoicism surely deserved a rich reward, and it
came when, while still a soldier, he won the coveted

28 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

International Carl Flesch Award in 1945. This new
competition is open to violinists of any nationality
under thirty years of age, who are required to play a
concerto and an unaccompanied Bach sonata. It is
organised by the Guildhall School of Music, London,
and the adjudicators in that particular year were
Edric Cundell (the Principal of the School), Jean
Pougnet, Albert Sammons and Max Rostal.

When at last he was demobilized after six years in.
the army Cohen was delighted to find that musical
folk had not forgotten his early successes, and it was
therefore a pleasant surprise when the difficulties of
re-establishing himself proved less arduous than he
had anticipated. John Barbirolli was one of the first
to welcome him back with an engagement to appear
as a soloist with the Halle Orchestra. Then again, the
terms of the Carl Flesch Award made ^it possible for
him to play the Mendelssohn Concerto with the London
Philharmonic Orchestra, conducted by George Weldon,
at the Stoll Theatre, London, on 5 May, 1946, Engage-
ments to appear as a soloist with the London Symphony
Orchestra, the BBC and other orchestras soon followed,
and so did various opportunities to prove his worth
as a chamber musician by giving sonata recitals in
various parts of the country. It might be said here
that his interest in chamber music is such that in order
to widen his knowledge and appreciation of it he has
made himself very proficient on the viola as well,
though he has no intention of playing it as a solo
instrument in public.

Cohen's repertoire is now quite large, and covers most
of the various "schools 35 of music. In it we find about
forty concertos and a suggestion that he is specially
attracted towards the works of Brahms, Elgar, Sibelius,
Bloch, Busoni, Barber, Glazounov, Prokofiev and that
talented young Soviet composer Khatchaturian: an
interesting list for an artist under thirty. Of our

RAYMOND COHEN 29

contemporary English composers it might be added that
he specially admires William Walton and Benjamin
Britten.

Having spoken of specialization, one should point
out that Cohen does not believe in specialization if it
means the exclusion of other types of music. He does
not favour programmes that give too much of the work
of a single composer, and definitely dislikes whole even-
ings of the music of any one man, for he believes in the
significance of contrast, and goes so far as to hold that
a true, well-balanced musician should be interested in
all types of music including the so-called light music
and even ' 'swing' 5 . It is the appreciation of all combined,
he declares, that makes the right sort of musician. A
good instrumentalist should be able to adapt himself
readily to solo, chamber, orchestral or even dance
band work.

Cohen is a firm believer in the principle of listening
to the great in order to become great yourself: he spends
hours listening intently to the recordings of Kreisler,
Heifetz, Szigeti and the late Emanuel Feuermann, and
rarely misses an opportunity of hearing any of the
leading violinists in person, or on the radio. He is also
convinced that the violinist can learn a great deal from
the singer, especially in the art of phrasing and producing
a good tone. He particularly delights in the singing of
Gigli, Kirsten Flagstad and Tauber. As far as sheer artistry
is concerned, he associates Tauber with Kreisler.
Cohen does not sing himself, but he says that if he had
a voice he would know how to sing! He did a little in
an Army male voice choir during the war, and that,
he says, was the end of what little voice he had. He has
a feeling that the Americans, especially, have an unusual
ability to combine all the good qualities in^ singing.

His entire approach to violin-playing is based on
the teaching of Carl Flesch, who was, he believes, the
greatest violin teacher of all time. He is exceptionally

30 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

loose-fingered, and is not absolutely bound to practise
every day to keep up to concert standard: he can, for
instance, go for a week's holiday and scarcely notice
the lapse in practice. Like most good violinists, he
believes that chamber music offers the finest training
for any string-player: it is indispensable to the soloist
and of the utmost help to the orchestral player, since
it makes one listen to the other parts, which is the basis
of all good ensemble playing. Cohen is also interested
in the art of improvisation, and for that reason is an
admirer of Artie Shaw! Conducting, too, appeals to
him, and he feels it to be not at all unlikely that in later
years he might aspire to a baton. "Nerves" do not
worry him, but he says he is conscious that they are
there!

Cohen's greatest difficulty at the present time is to
find a suitable fiddle. Whenever he has an important
public engagement he is obliged to borrow an instru-
ment, for his own is quite inadequate. And that
explains why he is so rarely in his hotel when on tour:
he spends every available hour in searching music and
antique shops in the hope that someday he will pick up
a Strad for a few pounds! He claims to have scoured
more pawn shops than any other violinist in England.

Tennis is his principal recreation, but he can also
play a wicked game of snooker when he is in the mood
for it. His interest in dance music has already been
noted, but he never goes to dances. "Of course," he
adds, "if the right sort of partner came along that would
make all the difference, and then I probably should!"

MISGHA ELMAN

MANY years have passed since the recitals of Elman
caused a sensation in the popular press, and now that
the radio has provided good music on tap in almost
every home it is doubtful whether any violinist will
again be able to stir audiences of thousands to such a
pitch of excitement as did this world-famous artist in
the early decades of the present century. We have now
become accustomed to a very high standard of playing
and are less inclined to heap extravagant praise upon
the heads of celebrities for superb playing of the more
popular classics. Nevertheless, the name of Elman will
take a prominent place in the history of violin- playing.

He was born in the Russian town of Talnoye on
20 January 1892. His father, a Jewish teacher, was an
enthusiastic amateur violinist and gave him a small
violin when he reached the age of four. This started
him on the road to fame, for within a year he had made
such a favourable impression upon the Countess Orosova
that she was convinced he would become a world-
famous violinist. She offered to adopt him and give
him the finest musical education that money could
buy, but stipulated that he should renounce his Jewish
faith and become a Christian. His father, however,
would not agree to this condition, and made up his
mind to keep the matter of his son's education in his
own hands, despite his very limited means. Great
sacrifices had to be made for the boy, and Elman has
always felt deeply indebted to his father, who, he
declares, did far more for him than his means permitted-

31

32 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

At the age of twelve, Mischa Elman was admitted
to the Imperial School of Music at Odessa and became
a pupil of Alexander Fidelmann. At about the same
time his father took him to Berlin to fulfil a concert
engagement, andTaxTincident occurred that very nearly
"put an endToTKeTlad's career altogether. They stayed
at a small hotel that was lit by gas : a great novelty in
those days, especially for one who had come from a
Russian town in which illumination was provided
almost entirely by oil lamps and candles. When he
went to bed on the night of his arrival, Mischa simply
blew out the small gas jet. If his bedroom window had
not been left open the result might have been fatal. As
it happened, he awoke in the early morning feeling
horribly sick and light-headed, and it was feared that
he would have to cancel the concert. After lunch,
however, he felt rather better, but when the time for
the concert came, he was still far from well. Determined
to fulfil his contract, he went on to the platform rather
giddily and started to play. He got through the
Tchaikovsky Concerto and played the Bach Chaconne
superbly, but just before the end of the last item on the
programme he collapsed.

In these days it is hard to realize that until Elman
got to Odessa he had never even seen a pianoforte.
When he played his first concerto he had never heard
a proper symphony orchestra! Yet when Leopold
Auer visited the Imperial School shortly after Elman's
first term he found him already an accomplished
musician, even though the lad had been so nervous
when first asked to play before this famous violinist that
he had let his bow fall to the ground.

Auer then told Elman's father that if he would
bring the lad to St. Petersburg, he would take him under
his personal supervision. This opportunity of becoming
a pupil of so famous an artist was not to be missed, but
a difficulty arose immediately owing to the authorities'
refusal to allow Elman's father to reside in the city.

MISCHA ELMAN 33

Various petitions were made in vain, and finally Auer
wrote to the authorities himself, saying that he would
resign his position at the Conservatoire if they refused
residence to the father of "the most talented pupil
ever offered to me".

Elman soon became Auer's favourite pupil, and the
great teacher made up his mind that the boy should
appear in public at an important concert as soon as
an opportunity presented itself. At about that time
another brilliant violinist, Vecsey, was visiting St.
Petersburg and causing quite a sensation. To the
amazement of his fellow professors, Auer calmly an-
nounced one day that he had a pupil who was better
than Vecsey; and a chance to satisfy their curiosity
came about a month later when Auer was taken ill
just before one of his most important concerts. He
therefore sent the thirteen-year-old Elman to take his
place, and to the astonishment of all, the lad played
the Mendelssohn Concerto and Paganini's Moto Perpetuo
almost as well as his renowned master could have done.
The audience refused to leave the hall until he had
played no less than half-a-dozen encores.

Elman was still only a boy when Auer arranged for
him to play with the famous Golonne Orchestra during
their visit to Pavlovsk. Knowing Edouard Golonne's
hatred of child prodigies, Auer did not tell him Elman's
age when making the arrangements, and not until the
famous conductor saw young Mischa waiting to go on
the platform did he realize that he had engaged a child.
He was furious, and flatly refused to continue with the
programme. Frantic attempts were made to assure
him that Elman had the recommendation of Auer
himself and was well capable of doing justice to the
music, but Colonne was adamant, " I have never yet
played with a child, and I refuse to start now," he
retorted. So Elman had to play with piano accompani-
ment while conductor and orchestra sat listening. The
quality of his performance may be measured by

34 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

Colonne's action as soon as he finished playing: the
eminent conductor went straight up to him and said:
"My friend, I apologise. Will you honour me by playing
with my orchestra in Paris?" A few months later
Elman scored a gigantic success with the Golonne
Orchestra in the Mendelssohn Concerto.

Such were the triumphs of Elman's childhood.
Much could be written of his performances before the
various crowned heads of Europe, and so forth, but that
would make tedious reading. The only royal personage
that need be mentioned here is the Grand Duke of
Mecklenburg-Strelitz, one of the Tsar's relations, who
took a great interest in Elman for many years, and
presented him with a valuable Amati fiddle.

Elman's English debut took place at the Queen's
Hall on 21 March, 1905 soon after his thirteenth
birthday. The reception given to this bushy-haired,
blue-eyed boy can be imagined from the report in the
April issue of The Strad:

"This young violinist, who has already created a
perfect furore on the continent, has no reason to
complain of want of appreciation on the part of a
critical London audience; and his first appearance
in England , . . was a veritable triumph. From the
moment he stepped on to the platform until he had
played his last encore at 11.20 p.m. (and even then
the public seemed to want some more) his success
in this country was an assured thing. He tackled
the terrific difficulties of Tchaikovsky's D major
Concerto as though they were a mere bagatelle,
and although Auer said it was almost unplayable,
and Hanslick (who ought to have known better)
called it all sorts of dirty names, this little fellow
literally 1 'waltzed round it', made light of its technical
pitfalls, and gave a rendering of it so thoroughly in
accord with the spirit in which it was written, that
*Not literally, one hopes.

Gramophone Co.

SZYMON GOLDBERG

MISCHA ELMAN 35

the audience literally rose at him. . . . His playing of
Beethoven's Romance in G ... was deliciously tender
and sympathetic. . . . When I left the hall the crowd
was still clamouring (somewhat thoughtlessly) for
another display."

Incidentally, Elman's manager had a summons
served upon him for allowing a boy under the prescribed
age to play in public at an evening performance without
a magistrate's order, but it was afterwards withdrawn.
For the next eight or nine years, Elman spent much
of his time in England, and as older music-lovers will
recall, became a public favourite. With Caruso and
Melba he performed before King Edward, and when
His Majesty asked him what he thought of London, he
replied that, best of all, he liked talking to the policemen*
This was, of course, long before the subject was made
the basis of a joke.

A distinguished American musician, after hearing
Elman play at a charity concert at Covent Garden in
December 1905, caused a sensation by declaring publicly
that the boy had convinced him of the authenticity of
the doctrine of reincarnation, since it was obvious to
him that such playing as his could be explained only
by the fact that Elman must have been a great violinist
in a previpus existence!

If we discount all the extravagant reports we still
find that sober musical opinion was very favourably
impressed. In the Musical Times of July 1906, we
read :

"Mischa Elman, the wonderful boy violinist,
whose readings are so matured that he would seem
to have very little to learn, played at the Queen's
Hall on 29 May and 1 1 June. On the latter occasion,
supported by the London Symphony Orchestra,
he was heard for the first time here in the Brahms
Concerto in D, interpreting the solo part with
astonishing depth of expression and technical
mastery."

36 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

There can be no doubt that his technical displays
were quite extraordinary for a lad of his age : his spring
bowing, double stoppings, pizzicato* and flying staccatos
were most fascinating to anybody with even a slight
knowledge of violin playing, and he always drew a
delightfully warm tone from his Amati that was most
pleasing to the ear.

Oscar Hammerstein persuaded Elman to make his
first visit to America towards the end of 1908, and it
was proposed that for his debut in New York he should
give a two-hour programme accompanied by the
Russian Symphony Orchestra. The management on
the other side of the Atlantic took exception to this,
however, and declared that no American audience
would tolerate two hours of "unadulterated violin-
playing". They acquiesced eventually, however, and
in due course discovered that the audience concerned
not only "tolerated" the performance but demanded no
less than twenty-two more. Reporting the initial
concert, the Tribune said:

"Elman's tone is large and full. His notes were
produced with a precise faith to the pitch that was
comforting to hear. ... In the double stopping, his
octaves, and especially the rapid passages, the
violinist reached a lofty standard of proficiency, while
his cantilena was admirable, full and sustained."

Elman made his home in England until the outbreak
of the Great War in August, 10)14. By that time so
many thousands of "Elmanites" would flock to his
recitals that only the Albert Hall could cope with the
demand for seats. His presence had also been demanded
at Buckingham Palace on several occasions, for it was
well known that Queen Alexandra was especially fond
of his playing.

It is perhaps worth recording that Tsar Nicholas II
issued a special order exempting Mischa Elman from
any form of military service on account of his great

MISCHA ELMAN 37

value as an artist. Elman received a personal letter
from the Tsar which begged him to keep out of all
danger because "Russia would not wish harm to come
to one of her great geniuses,"

In America, Elman's fame increased year by year,
and in 1923 he became a citizen of the United States.
He married an American woman, Helen Katten, two
years later. His wife's wedding gift to him was the
superb Madame Recamier Strad, reputed to be worth
at least 10,000. It is dated

Chamber music had always appealed strongly to
this distinguished violinist, although during the first
twenty years of his career he took little part in it
publicly. The Elman Quartet was not founded until
1924, but then he proved his ability in this sphere ^of
musical activity by subduing his outstanding personality
in a manner that would have done credit even to a
veteran player: he never outshone his partners as so
often happens when a soloist leads a quartet. According
to one critic, the performance of the Mozart B-fiat
Quartet at their first concert was "positively thrilling'*.
Their recording of part of the Beethoven Emperor
Quartet, together with the familiar Andante Gantabile
from Tchaikovsky's Quartet Opus 11 (ELM.V.) are still
"best sellers" in this country,

Well over two million of Elman's gramophone
records have been sold, and the favourites in this country
are light solos such as the Wieniawski Legmde 9 Opus 17,
Massenet's Thais Meditation, Tchaikovsky's MSlodie,
Opus 42 No. 3> and that ever-popular excerpt Le Gygw
(Saint-Saens), all of which are H.M.V,

It would be very wrong, nevertheless, to conclude
from this that Elman's repertoire consists principally of
the more popular classics. It includes an impeding
range of the finest compositions for the violin, and his
interest in contemporary music was recognized recently
1 Elman is also the owner of the Joachim Strad.

38 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

by the Czech composer Bohuslav Martinu, who dedica-
ted a new concerto to him. Elman gave the first
performance of this at the Carnegie Hall, New York,
with the Boston Symphony Orchestra directed by
Koussevitzky in January 1944. His masterly interpreta-
tion of this difficult work was acclaimed enthusiastically
by the critics, and he afterwards made a recording of
it. Another outstanding performance of this work was
given by him at the Berkshire (U.S.A.) Musical Festival
in the summer of 1946.

Elman's concerts in America now^ seem to have
become something of a national institution, and reports
of them, such as the one he gave in 1946 when he
played the Bruch Concerto No. i at the^Lewisohn
Stadium, suggest that he has lost none of his amazing
technical precision. His Carnegie Hall concert in the
same year created a furore.

The outstanding feature of his playing is not the

technical mastery of his instrument, however, nor yet

the satisfying breadth of tone, but that spiritual Hebraic

quali^tha^^ seem to bg_akle

Jo putlailjpusic of a somgrelhood. He has, on theother

TiandTagift for boisterous vivace which, combined with

an ability to make a really remarkable technical display,

can prove quite irresistible. There ^ is still a certain

amount of Russian temperament in his style.

Elman's home in New York is a favourite rendezvous
for his friends, for his "musical evenings" are^a great
delight to those who have the privilege of joining him
for a trio or quartet. Good music and lively conversation
are enjoyed in turn, and everything invariably centres
around the subject of this sketch: a short and rather
stocky figure, round-faced and short-sighted. He has
a tremendous sense of humour, and is more tolerant and
kindly than many of the fashionable musicians in
America to-day. Hear him talking about jazz, for
instance, and you will find that he is not at all alarmed

MISCHA ELMAN 39

by its effect upon the rising generation. He believes it
is useless to protest against it, for it is the natural
expression of the youth of to-day, and provides an outlet
for their energy. Some of it is very bad music, of course,
but there is much that has a certain merit of its own,
and the opportunities it affords for improvisation are by
no means inconsiderable. Elman feels that "swing" is
bound to exert a strong influence upon serious music
of the future, in fact we can already see the effect of
it in the work of many of our younger composers.

On the subject of musical criticism, Elman is often
outspoken because he feels that one can over-develop
the critical faculty to such an extent that one loses the
ability to enjoy music. The critic who concentrates
upon observing every little fault in a performance
never enjoys it, in fact he is so engrossed in detail that
he does not really hear the work as a whole. Music
can bring pleasure and satisfaction to the emotions even
when there are faults that offend the intellect.

As these opinions suggest, Elman is an unusually
placid musician; the very antithesis of the petty,
" temperamental 3 * virtuoso. He does not fly into rages,
nor does he tear at what remains of his hair whenever
some trifle annoys him. Those who have had the honour
of accompanying him on the piano agree that it is
easier to work with him than almost any other famous
executant in America to-day.

Finally, Elman still takes an interest in the welfare
of his native land, although he has grown to love
America and all that it stands for. When the Russians
began the restoration of the Tchaikovsky Museum at
Klin he sent them a complete set of his recordings of
the great Russian composer's music. He hopes that the
day is not far off when America, Soviet Russia and
Britain will work together in perfect concord, and that
there will then be a free exchange of ideas between
the artists of all countries.

SZYMON GOLDBERG

A YOUNG violinist of international reputation,
who has in recent years made a very favourable impres-
sion both in Britain and America, is Szymon Goldberg:
a sensitive artist equipped with excellent technique and
a real understanding of the classics. The series of
recitals he gave in the Third Programme during the
late autumn of 1947, in which he played the six
unaccompanied violin sonatas of Bach, gave the more
discriminating listener ample evidence of his ability.

He is of Polish origin, having been born at
Wloclawek, near Warsaw, in 1909, son of a mill-owner.
He was one of five brothers, all of whom became
fairly proficient on some sort of musical instrument,
so there was plenty of music-making in the home to
stimulate his innate love of the art.

When he was very small, Szymon Goldberg was
given a mandoline, and he displayed his flair for music
on this instrument with such enthusiasm that his parents
lost no time in buying him a violin which, they decided,
would provide him with greater opportunities to develop
his skill. At the age of seven he was sent to a local
teacher, and within a year had progressed sufficiently
to be accepted for training by Czaplinski, an able
teacher who was a pupil of the eminent Ottokar Sevcik.
It was Czaplinski who turned the lad into a sound
musician and made his parents realize that he had
immediate possibilities in the concert hall. So Szymon
was sent to Warsaw to study with Michalowicz, a
teacher with a reputation for the grooming of infant

40

SZYMON GOLDBERG 41

prodigies, and at the age of nine, he made his
debut.

Fortunately, Szymon's parents did not allow his
gifts to be exploited at the expense of his musical
education, and instead of permitting him to be taken
about the country to earn money by charming old
ladies with pretty little solos they sent him to Berlin
to study with Carl Flesch, and for the next seven years
he worked with this world-famous violinist and (during
the master's absences) with his assistant, Richard Harpzer.

When he was twelve he played the Paganini D
major Concerto and the Bach E major at a most
successful public concert, and within two years had the
honour of appearing as soloist with the Berlin Phil-
harmonic Orchestra, with whom he played the same
two works and one of the Joachim concertos in a single
programme. This memorable concert firmly established
him as a virtuoso, and he began to receive offers of
engagements from all parts of Europe. Most of the
travelling he did during the next two years, however,
was in Germany.

At sixteen he was offered the leadership of the
Dresden Philharmonic Orchestra, and realizing what
a splendid opportunity this was to any musician with
still a lot to learn, he accepted it, and for the next four
years led that fine ensemble under many of the world's
greatest guest conductors.

Goldberg was barely twenty when he was invited
to accept the leadership of the Berlin Philharmonic
Orchestra, which in those days was considered by
many critics to be the finest orchestra in the world.
At first he was co-leader with Henry Hoist, but after
a while assumed sole responsibility, and for a further
period of four years held this important post under
Dr. Furtwangler.

During his years as an orchestral leader, Goldberg
gave many notable solo performances in most of the
larger musical centres of Europe, and was associated

42 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

-with Hindemith and Feuermann in a remarkably

fine trio. Many connoisseurs of chamber music will

recall their visits to England, when they recorded for
Columbia.

Goldberg's first visit to America was in 1938, when
he made his debut at Carnegie Hall. A tour of the
United States was planned during the early years of
the Second World War, but unfortunately he was in
Java when the Japanese arrived, and was taken prisoner,
so the projected tour did not materialise.

He and his wife were interned in Java for two-and-
a-half years; an experience that he is not likely to
forget. The story of his arrest is rather interesting
because, apart from the personal angle, it concerns
the rescue of his precious Stradivarius (the "Liegnitz",
dated 1711, which was originally the property of a
Silesian nobleman). The Japanese military police
came for them one night, gave them scarcely time to
dress, and after taking them away for the usual inter-
rogation, proceeded to seal up the house in which they
had been living. A friendly neighbour watched this
process with interest and observed that one small
window had escaped the attention of the soldiers. At
great personal risk he climbed in through this window,
found the Strad (which had not attracted the attention
of the police, probably because of its well-worn case)
and threw it over a nearby fence into the garden of the
doctor who lived next door. That was all he dared to
do. Fortunately the doctor was a keen amateur
violinist, and on finding so valuable a fiddle in his
garden guessed that it had been deposited there by
someone who was anxious that it should not fall into
the hands of the Japanese. So the kindly physician put
it into a place of safety and eventually had the pleasure
of returning it to its grateful owner. Goldberg's various
bows, and the whole of his music library, were never
recovered.

SYZMON GOLDBERG 43

During those weary years of internment Szymon
Goldberg played a great deal of music entirely from
memory for the pleasure of his fellow internees. He
will always remember the incredible ignorance and
suspicion shown by the Japanese whenever he was
interviewed by them. They had absorbed even the
silliest absurdities of the Nazi propaganda with a child-
like faith in its accuracy, and repeatedly demanded of
him his number in the international Jewish underground
movement of which they were certain he was a
member!

Soon after his release he received from Singapore
a cable sent by Erik Chisholm, who was organising
musical activities for ENSA in that great sea-port,
inviting him to appear there as a soloist with an orchestra
that had been assembled to give concerts to Service
personnel. This gave him a welcome opportunity to
resume his profession, and for two months he visited
camps of soldiers, sailors and airmen, playing varied
programmes consisting chiefly of the more popular
classics.

Then followed a four-months' tour of Australia,
after which he returned to Europe and spent much of
his time in Great Britain. As this book goes to press
he is planning another extensive tour of the United
States.

Although he has made a considerable reputation
in the classics as a recitalist, concerto-soloist and chamber
musician, Goldberg has also won the esteem of many
contemporary composers for his sympathetic interpreta-
tion of their works. He particularly admires Hindemith,
not merely because of his friendship with that composer,
but because of the rich variety and true originality
that is to be found in his compositions.

He uses American strings: aluminium-covered A and
D, silver-covered G, and the usual steel E. The only
nylon strings he has tried up to the time of writing have

44 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

not impressed him very favourably, but he is interested
in the experiments that are being made with them.

Szymon Goldberg was married in 1931 to Anna
Maria Manasse, who for some years was known as a
mezzo-soprano in chamber opera chiefly in Germanyr
She was trained by Madame Schnabel (wife of Artur
Schnabel, the eminent pianist) but rarely sings in public
nowadays, for much of her time is now taken up with
sculpture.

FREDERICK GRINKE

T O the jaded playing that one so often hears nowadays,
the art of Frederick Grinke forms a perfect contrast.
Here is a young violinist of undoubted skill who puts
every ounce of his enthusiasm into the work he loves.
It is obvious to anyone who watches him closely on the
platform that he enjoys every minute of his playing:
he seems to perform as much for his own satisfaction
as for the pleasure of his audience.

He was born in Winnipeg, Canada, on 8 August,
1911, and started learning to play the violin when he
was about nine years of age, his master being John
Waterhouse, a well-known Canadian teacher. An
unusually sharp and adaptable lad, he made rapid
progress and was soon playing in public. He could
not have been more than eleven or twelve when he
made his first broadcast, and this was soon followed by
more public engagements, especially when at the age
of fifteen he formed a trio.

It should be emphasized, however, that those early
years were not without their difficulties. Money had
to be found to buy a violin suitable for public perform-
ances, to pay his teacher, to furnish him with an ever-
growing library and so forth, but this ambitious boy
was not easily deterred: to supplement his musical
earnings he obtained a part-time job with a local
tradesman, whom he assisted after school hours, and
made himself financially independent.

He continued to study and win prizes in local
competitions until, at the age of sixteen, he won not only

45

46 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

the Matthew Scholarship for Manitoba but the Associa-
ted Board Scholarship for the whole of Canada, which
enabled him to come to London to study at the Royal
Academy of Music. He became a pupil of Rowsby
Woof, and soon began taking almost every prize for solo
and chamber music playing that came his way. Sir
Henry Wood was of course quick to observe the promise
in this vivacious youth, and chose him to lead the Royal
Academy Orchestra when he was only in his second
year.

Grinke was still a student at the Academy when he
became the second violinist in the Kutcher String
Quartet, with whom he was associated for over six
years and gained experience of the greatest value. He
also formed a piano trio with two fellow-students,
Florence Hooton and Dorothy Manley. In later years
Kendall Taylor replaced Miss Manley, and although
the trio has now been disbanded, Grinke and Taylor
do a great deal of sonata-playing in public.

When he was twenty-one, Grinke went to Switzerland
for a whole summer and studied with Adolph Busch at
the latter's beautiful house outside Basle. He has many
happy memories of that delightful course; of looking
down upon the gaily-illuminated city at night from the
lovely gardens of Busch's house; of long walks amidst
inspiring scenery and swimming in the open-air pool.
Busch always used to stress the importance of keeping
fit in order to stand the strain of a musical career.

A few years later he went for further lessons to Carl
Flesch, both in London and at Spa, Belgium. Students
from all over the world made up the classes of this
master: some came to play, others to listen and gain
experience from the mistakes of their fellows. Many
violinists who have since risen to fame were to be found
there: Ginette Neveu, for instance, and Ida Haendel.
Grinke will never forget how nervous he felt at those
classes. He was then receiving important public
engagements he was to play that very season at a

FREDERICK GRINKE 47

Promenade concert but nothing was so great an ordeal
as playing to Carl Flesch before such a critical audience.

Grinke was still only twenty-one when he was
approached by Sir Hamilton Harty, who had just been
appointed conductor of the London Symphony Orches-
tra, and asked if he would accept the leadership of that
body if it were offered to him. He had always longed
to lead a full symphony orchestra and was very excited
at this enquiry, but the directors eventually decided
that he was too young for such a responsible position,
and the offer was never made. A few years later he
received invitations to lead several other leading
symphony orchestras, but as he was then well on the
way to establishing himself as a solo artist he refused
them all. The one leadership he did accept, however,
was that of the Boyd Neel Orchestra; that small but
highly-trained string orchestra which has established
an enviable reputation for itself not only in this country
but in many of the larger musical centres of Europe,
His first appearance with them was at the Salzburg
Festival in 1937, when they gave the first performance
of the Variations on a Theme of Frank Bridge by Benjamin
Britten. He always enjoyed playing with this orchestra
because, being small, it allowed more opportunity for
individual effort: it was more like a chamber ensemble.
With them he toured all over Austria, Holland,
Portugal, Australia and New Zealand, and he has
recently resigned only because he wishes to concentrate
entirely upon solo work.

Frederick Grinke is now a professor of the Royal
Academy of Music, and has had the honour of being
elected a Fellow. He has no eccentric notions about
teaching, but feels very strongly that one should not
play the violin unless one really enjoys doing so: ^an
audience can always tell whether an artist is playing
because he really loves his art ^or merely because he
wants his fee. Another point is that he firmly believes

48 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

in every pupil developing his own individuality, and
not slavishly imitating any particular "ideal". "No
pupil should be an exact copy of his master/' hie
declares, "otherwise the art would make little progress."

In 1940 Grinke volunteered for the Royal Air Force
and became a member of the R.A.F. Symphony
Orchestra, which was conducted by Wing Commander
O'Donnell and had in its ranks many of Britain's
leading musicians. With them he travelled many
thousands of miles, particularly during their visit to
America, when he frequently appeared as a soloist.
On that tour he often had to practise on the train,
generally in a small compartment at the end of the
corridor in which the orchestra's instruments were
kept. Anybody who has travelled extensively in America
will know what that means! He once had to prepare
a difficult work while the train was speeding across the
plains of Texas and through the Rocky Mountains. It
was swaying from side to side and every few moments
would lurch violently, so that Grinke, who was balanced
with one foot in the corridor and the other among the
instrument-cases, was kept in a state of constant anxiety
lest his precious instrument, or its bow, should be
damaged. He also collected a record number of bruises
on that tour, which ended very dramatically for him >
since he was flown across the Atlantic for the sole
purpose of playing the Bax concerto at the Albert Hall.
There was something rather thrilling about swooping-
nearly half-way across the world in wartime, too solely
because he was wanted in London to play a single
work.

Another outstanding recollection of his service with,
the R.A.F. Orchestra is of the occasion when they were
flown to Potsdam for the Three-Power Conference.
The string section played at a dinner given by Mr.
Churchill in honour of Stalin and President Truman.
Many of the famous generals were present.

FREDERICK GRINKE 49

When he was demobilized in 1945 ke returned to
the concert platform and resumed his musical adven-
tures, which culminated in 1947 with an extensive
tour of Australia and New Zealand, with Grinke acting
as both leader of the Boyd Neel Orchestra and soloist.
His experiences on this tour would fill a book, and he
has vivid^ memories of sight-seeing, excited audiences
and seemingly endless travel. He was delighted to find
a great deal of genuine musical talent in Australia and
New, Zealand : some of the younger players were excep-
tionally gifted. All the arts seemed to be flourishing,
especially painting, for which there was apparently almost
more enthusiasm than for music. He could not help
observing that there was the keenest interest in the
works of Australasian artists.

On his return journey Grinke visited the Fiji
Islands, and as soon as his identity became known to
the principal medical officer he found himself being

Sirsuaded to play for the edification of native musicians.
e was taken to some of their villages and feted in a
truly remarkable fashion. He was given the honour of
drinking some curious concoction that tasted exactly
like a solution of stomach powder but had an effect
rather less salutary, and he was presented with what
appeared to be rather crude tapestries. He now has
them displayed in his London flat: curious cloth-like
affairs of a texture resembling an inexperienced cook's
attempt to do something with dried egg, and stencilled
with what looks suspiciously like native versions of
certain rude words.

Grinke is well known not only as a broadcaster
his playing has been transmitted from several countries,
including Australia whence he broadcast the Bax
concerto but also for his many recordings for Decca,
His piano trio, for instance, who enjoyed many
successes in this country and abroad, have recorded
the Pkantasie Trio and the Trio No. 3 in E by John

50 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

Ireland, the Fantasy Trio of Frank Bridge and the
Beethoven Trio in E-flat.

His solo recordings for the same company include
the Vaughan Williams Lark Ascending and the Concerto
Accademico (accompanied by the Boyd Neel Orchestra),
a number of minor but delightful works by Dvorak for
that composer's centenary, Purcell sonatas with Jean
Pougnet and Dr. Boris Ord, the Mozart duos with
Watson Forbes (viola), and a variety of solos accompanied
by Ivor Newton, including works by Ivor Gurney,
Alan Richardson, Lilli Boulanger, Smetana, Rach-
maninoff, B. J. Dale and Novacek. His most recent
recordings have been of the Mozart Concerto in A, the
Sonata in D minor of John Ireland (with the composer
at the piano), the Purcell G minor Sonata (with Arnold
Goldsbrough), and the Bach Brandenburg Concertos -
made by the Boyd Neel Orchestra, in which he has
played all the solo parts.

Grinke's repertoire is considerable, and is being
extended very rapidly. It includes the works of many
modern composers chiefly British with whom it has
been his privilege to associate, frequently in the perform-
ance of their music: Benjamin Britten, Frank Bridge,
John McEwen, Edmund Rubbra, Lennox Berkeley,
Arthur Bliss, Alan Rawsthorne, Alan Bush, B. J. Dale,
York Bowen, Theodore Holland, Arnold Fulton,
Howard Ferguson, and Arnold van WycL It is one of
his ambitions to record the Bax concerto, by the way,
and it is quite likely that it will be fulfilled before this
book appears in print.

In passing, it might be added that Grinke has
already made an entry into the film world: he played
the solo violin part in the British film The Shop at Sly Corner,
which used extracts from the Mendelssohn Concerto.

Considering his age, Grinke's interpretative powers
are quite remarkable: he can always be relied upon to
play with the understanding of a scholar yet with the

P. W. Sckimdt

HENRY HOLST

Howard Coster

FREDERICK GRINKE

FREDERICK GRINKE 51

verve of youth. His sound musicianship has given
Mm an assurance that many an artist would not gain
until he had passed the age of forty-five, and it is
unfortunately just at that age that so many of them start
to decline, generally through physical weariness. Grinke
has all the attributes of a true artist, and we have every
reason for anticipating great things from him now that
he has taken the risk and it is a risk in these days of
calamitous economics of devoting himself exclusively
to solo work.

He possesses a J. B. Rogerius dated 1686, from
which he draws a warm, substantial tone, employing
aluminium-covered D and A, and the usual silver-
covered G and steel E strings, but he frequently uses
a Strad dated 1718 which has been lent to him by
The Royal Academy of Music.

A stimulating personality, Grinke is broad-minded
and has no fads in music. He enjoys almost every type
of music, even jazz when he is in the mood for it. He
considers Duke Ellington's band to be one of the best,
and has always an inclination to listen to negro bands,
which he finds very fascinating.

He was married in 1942 to Dorothy Sirr Sheldon,
and has one son, Paul, who shares his father's enthusiasm
for a cine-camera. Grinke has made many little films
on his travels, and is very proud of Ms "shots" of fine
scenes in distant parts of the globe. He is also quite a
theatre addict, by the way, and reads chiefly biography.
Outdoors, he is very fond of swimming.

IDA HAENDEL

DURING the past ten years or so we have had the
pleasure of watching Ida Haendel develop in musical
virtuosity from an extremely promising child prodigy
to one of the most brilliant violinists of the day. Com-
paratively few of the child prodigies have made such
steady progress: the majority have become so blighted
by early success that they have never come anywhere
near artistic maturity. It has therefore been all the more
gratifying to be able to witness this continual growth
of artistry as Miss Haendel has come before us season
after season.

She was born at Gholm, Poland, on 15 January,
1923, and took to the violin before she was four years
old. Her father, an artist, was (and still is) a keen
amateur musician and had no difficulty in perceiving that
his daughter possessed an unusually good ear for music.
So at the age of six, Ida was sent to a competent
musician for instruction. She had no less than four
teachers during her childhood Mihailovitsch, and, in
turn, three pupils of Carl Flesch: Frankel, Goldberg
and Totenberg, all of whom spoke of Flesch in such
glowing terms that she resolved to become a pupil of
this master if he would accept her. Fortunately, her
father had also come to the conclusion that she needed
the very best teacher that Europe could provide, so
shortly after her tenth birthday, he approached Carl
Flesch and that eminent violinist consented to hear her.

Flesch agreed that Ida showed remarkable promise,
and offered to give her lessons when, later in 1935, he

IDA HAENDEL 53

went to Baden-Baden. It was he who urged her to
compete in the Warsaw violin contest, which she did
successfully. Then he came to London,, and, in order
to continue her studies, Ida came to this country. At
this juncture it should be stated that lessons were also
taken from two other distinguished violinists during
those impressionable years : Georges Enesco and Joseph
Szigeti.

After intensive training for a year or so it was
arranged that Ida should play at a concert under the
direction of Sir Thomas Beecham, but at the last minute
it was discovered that the regulations of the London
County 'Council did not permit a child of less than
fourteen years to play at a public concert, and the
engagement had to be cancelled. As soon as she reached
the approved age, however, she made her debut at a
London concert in the Brahms concerto conducted by
the late Sir Henry Wood. This, as many people will
remember, was a tremendous success, and offers of
further engagements began to come in almost im-
mediately.

Her father, who had been handling her affairs
with the utmost consideration for her welfare, felt
strongly that she should accept only a very limited
number of engagements, so that there would be ample
time, not only for musical study, but for her general
education, so her appearances in the concert hall were
less frequent than many music-lovers would have wished.

Miss Haendel then returned to Poland for a while
to give a series of concerts at a number of the larger
centres in her native land, and then embarked upon
a further period of study with Carl Flesch in order to
perfect her technique. These lessons, with those given
by Enesco and Szigeti, and the experience of concert-
giving over the past five or six years, have brought her
to the very high standard of musicianship that is so
evident in her performances at the present time.

54 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

What is so unusual about Miss Haendel is that at
the age of twenty-four she possesses a musical under-
standing such as few acquire before middle-age. She
seems to be able to interpret each composer as if she
had spent the best part of a lifetime in studying his
particular works to the exclusion of everything else.
She will play her Bach, Brahms and Beethoven with
the insight of a scholar and then turn to something of
Tchaikovsky's and give a rendering of it that will
delight the most ardent devotees of Russian music.
Her style generally is more robust than one would
expect from a young lady, and in the more lively
passages she can be as stimulating as any of those who
make a speciality of musical gymnastics. Her tone is
most agreeable, and seems to be acquiring quite a
quality of its own.

To mention all her successes in the concert hall
would, of course, be quite impossible in the short
amount of space available here, but mention might be
made of her splendid performance of the Dvorak and
Brahms concertos in August 1946, and of the memorable
farewell concert before her American tour which was
given at the Albert Hall on 24 November in the same
year. At this she played both the Beethoven and the
new Khachaturian concertos. Her American debut
was made at Carnegie Hall on 29 December 1946, and
her success there was repeated in all the many cities
she visited during that exacting tour of the United States.

The best recording she has made up to the time oi
writing is that of the Tchaikovsky Concerto with the
National Symphony Orchestra conducted by Basil
Cameron (Decca). This was done under the new FFRR
system (full frequency range recording) which gives a
really faithful reproduction of the soloist's very high
notes.

Miss Haendel does not follow the style of any one
of the great violinists, but it is perhaps worth recording

IDA HAENDEL 55

that of the living masters she admires Heifetz for sheer
executive ability, Szigeti for musicianship as well as
technique, and Enesco for artistry generally. She uses
all four fingers on the bow, and believes that it is very
bad not to do so. Her favourite concertos are those of
Beethoven and Brahms, and of the contemporary com-
posers she is drawn especially to Sibelius, William Walton,
Vaughan Williams and Cyril Scott. She thinks, as do
several other discriminating musicians, that Cyril Scott
has been unwarrantably neglected in recent years.

She generally uses a 1 726 Strad but has, on occasions,
played in public upon a Guarnerius, and always uses
aluminium-covered D and A strings. To keep in concert
form she believes in practising twice a day usually
morning and evening and considers that every violinist
should take part regularly in chamber music: it is
absolutely essential to one's musical education. There
is always plenty of music-making in her home, as her
father plays the 'cello, and her sister Alice is a pianist
of considerable accomplishment.

In private life, Miss Haendel's interests are as varied
as those of any ordinary English girl. She is very fond
of outdoor life and delights in riding and swimming.
The theatre is. always an attraction to her, and she sees
quite a number of films Robert Donat is her favourite
star. Indoors, she is always trying to beat her father at
table tennis, but has, one gathers, given up trying to
do so at billiards! Her literary taste is chiefly for
biographies: the lives of the great are a source of
unfailing fascination to her. The trouble is that it always
depresses her to read of the decline and death of great
composers, artists, writers, and so forth, and after
finishing a biography she often feels miserable for days !

One last word that will surprise many readers:
Miss Haendel has a soft spot for those much-abused
"outcasts" of the musical world crooners! She thinks
that some of them are quite entertaining and can provide

56 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

a welcome diversion when you are in the mood for that
sort of thing. A great many people pretend to despise
them merely because it is considered correct to do so.
Two singers of the lighter variety she specially enjoys
are Anne Shelton and Bing Crosby. Whether her
father, who gives the impression of being rather a strict
parent, entirely approves of this is another matter !

JASCHA HEIFETZ

IT seems to be generally agreed among all who wield
the bow that Jascha Heifetz is the world's greatest
living violinist. There was a time when he was over-
shadowed by Kreisler, but now that the latter has
passed his seventieth birthday there can be no doubt
about the younger man's supremacy, and his veteran
friend would probably be the first to admit it. Heifetz
is a paragon: his interpretations are as impeccable as
his phenomenal technique, in fact on one occasion
Bernard Shaw felt obliged to warn him that there was
a danger in being perfect. "Nothing may be perfect
in this world/' he told the great violinist, "or else the
gods become jealous and destroy it. So you should
make a habit of playing one wrong note every night
before you go to bed."

Heifetz was born on 2 February 19015 in the city
of Vilna, the Lithuanian capital. It is said that while
he was still in his cradle his features would assume an
ecstatic expression whenever he heard the sound of the
fiddle played by his father, who was a member of the
orchestra at the Vilna Theatre. The proud parent
Ravin Heifetz was his name was most fascinated by
his tiny son's interest in music, and would frequently
play the child to sleep. We are told that the slightest
discord would invariably bring an expression of disap-
proval on the baby's face. One or two psychologists
have maintained that if a great deal of music is played
to a child in its infancy it will grow up with an acute
consciousness of sound, and one presumes that it will

57

58 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

develop either a deep love of music or a determination
to knife every musician it meets. (One begins to wonder
what will happen in those urban areas where it is impos-
sible to escape from the sound of neighbours 5 wireless
sets.) However,, in the case of the infant Heifetz there
was little doubt that he had music in his soul, and we
need not attach too much importance to these stories
of his infancy.

When he was three years old his father gave him a
quarter-sized fiddle for a birthday present and taught
him to play a few simple tunes upon it. To the amaze-
ment of the family the boy mastered the little violin in
about a week and played all manner of tunes with such
taste that neighbours and friends could scarcely believe
their ears. The scrapings of the average "talented
child" upon a toy violin are generally a perfect misery to
all who have the misfortune to come within earshot, but
little Jascha rarely produced a note that was not in
tune and of pleasant quality.

His father then started him upon an elementary
course of study, and he made really astonishing progress,
with the result that at the age of five he was allowed to
enter the Imperial School of Music at Vilna. He studied
with Elias Malkin, and in less than two years was able
to give his first public recital. This was at Kovno,
where he played the Mendelssohn concerto before an
audience of over 1,000, who were quite bewitched by
the smooth round tone he produced and the masterly
way in which his little fingers overcame the difficulties
of the last movement. His future as a child prodigy
was assured.

In 1907 Vilna was visited by Leopold Auer, the
famous violin professor of the St. Petersburg Conserva-
toire, who found his friend Malkin rhapsodizing over
his phenomenal pupil. Auer had heard so many
extravagant stories about child prodigies that he was
heartily weary of them and did little to hide his
impatience. "But you must hear my little Heifetz!"

JASCHA HEIFETZ 59

Malkin insisted. Auer flatly refused: wherever he went
people were thrusting little prodigies under his nose,
and he had heard enough of them to last him a lifetime.
Malkin then declared that he could never have heard
anything like Heifetz's playing: he was really phenom-
enal. Auer was quite accustomed to such claims, and
again refused. But Malkin persisted, and eventually
Auer gave in. Heifetz and his father were called, and
the lad played the Mendelssohn Concerto as coolly as
if it were the first exercise in a child's instruction book.
To finish his demonstration he played Paganini's
Caprice No. 24, and at its conclusion Auer could
restrain himself no longer: he embraced the lad, predic-
ted a brilliant future for him, and insisted that he should
come to the St. Petersburg Conservatoire without delay
so that he could study under his personal guidance.

The move to St. Petersburg could not be made
immediately, for it entailed a great deal of self-sacrifice
on the part of Ravin Heifetz: it meant giving up his
very comfortable job at the Vilna Theatre, for instance,
selling up his home and going to St. Petersburg as a
complete stranger. Nevertheless, arrangements were
made in due course, the furniture was disposed of, and
the little family set out for what was then the Russian
capital.

They arrived feeling very strange, and not a little
homesick. To their horror, when they called upon
Auer the eminent violinist failed to remember Jascha
who was now ten years old and regarded him as yet
another child prodigy seeking "influence". He kept
both father and son on the doorstep and after a few
moments' demonstration of his impatience, sent them
both away. Ravin was utterly dejected, but shortly
afterwards approached Auer for the second time and
eventually succeeded in convincing him that bis son
was the astonishingly brilliant child he had heard at
Vilna.

60 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

Then it was discovered that no vacancies existed in
Auer's class, which was already overflowing, and as
the term had already started the authorities insisted
that they could make no further admissions for the
present. Hope was just about at its lowest ebb when
Auer managed to get Jascha squeezed into the class of
his assistant, Nalbandjan. Even then the boy was
admitted for but a single term.

Another difficulty then arose: Jewish students of
the Conservatoire were allowed to reside in St.
Petersburg, but their parents were not, and it looked as
if after all his sacrifices, Ravin would have to return
to Vilna and leave his son alone. Fortunately, the
sympathy of the Director of the Conservatoire had by
this time been won, and to get over the difficulty it was
arranged that Ravin should himself become a student
at the Conservatoire!

Auer watched Jascha during his first six months of
class work and decided that he had never known such
a student in all his years as a professor. He therefore
made him one of his personal pupils. It seems that the
boy was put through a most comprehensive course in
music, for he had to learn the piano and viola as well
as his chosen instrument, and also had to become
acquainted with all the other instruments of the
orchestra. He was obliged to play regularly in the
Conservatoire orchestra, sometimes among the first
fiddles, sometimes among the seconds, and quite often
with the violas. In addition, he was required to take
part in many quartets, .trios and other chamber
ensembles. All the students were expected to make a
diligent study of languages : although only Italian and
Russian were supposed to be compulsory, they were
also required to study French and either German or
English. Heifetz was with Auer for about six years, and
his master's confidence in him was such that frequently
when he asked how to play a certain passage, Auer would
merely wave his hand and reply with a smile: "Play it

JASCHA HEIFETZ 61

with your nose if you like: you're bound to make it
sound right!"

Heifetz gave public recitals all the time he was at
the Conservatoire. Soon after his admission, for instance,
he played at a great open-air concert held in Odessa
and drove his enormous audience of over 25,000 into
a frenzy of delight. After his concluding item the
crowd surged forward and both he and his parents were
almost crushed to death. So one or two of the other
musicians present called the police, and a stalwart
officer took the little soloist to safety by concealing him
under his cloak. Meanwhile, his parents had been
assisted to a different exit and their anxiety was renewed
when they were unable to find their son. Fortunately,
with the assistance of friends and the police, the family
were reunited shortly afterwards, and they went home
rejoicing at what had been their son's greatest triumph
to date.

While he was still a student, the fame of Jascha
Heifetz spread all over Europe. ^He was only thirteen
when he had the honour of appearing as a soloist at
the Berlin Philharmonic concerts. Nikisch, the conduc-
tor, declared that never in his life had he heard such
superb playing of the violin.

Offers of important engagements and nation-wide
tours were now coming in so frequently that Ravin
Heifetz scarcely knew how to deal with them: he was
most anxious that his son's health should not be
impaired by too much "concertizing". It must be said,
though, that the lad stood up to the strain with
remarkable fortitude.

During the early years of the Great War, Jascha's
fame had aroused such interest in the United States
that the most insistent demands were coming from
across the Atlantic. Consequently, in the late summer
of 1917, Heifetz made his first visit to America, despite
the danger of a wartime crossing. He made his debut

62 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

at Carnegie Hall, New York, on 27 October and astoun-
ded the critics by his precocity and the purity of his
tone. Journalists indulged in an orgy of purple patch
writing that told the world how this sixteen-year-old
boy had wrung tears from the eyes of all present, and so
forth. It is true that he had been given an ovation, but
the more shrewd critics saw that as he was growing out
of the child prodigy class he would be required to show
something more than phenomenal technique. His
dazzling execution of the most preposterously difficult
music was all very well, but his interpretations were
quite cold compared with the more emotional playing
of mature players. There was no "soul" in his Brahms
and Beethoven, and one critic likened his playing of
these concertos to carved marble: beautiful, but devoid
of the warmth of life.

This coldness was not due entirely to Heifetz's
youth. To some extent it was deliberate, because at
that time he was passing through a period of strong
reaction to the over-emotional playing that was charac-
teristic of the Russian school of artists. But one may
safely presume that he did not realize just how far his
art had swung in the opposite direction. He was of
course still very young, and one could scarcely have
expected the mature conception of the artist of riper
years.

This phase soon passed, for he was quite aware of
his shortcomings, and his studies were from that time
intensified by a sincere desire to get beneath the super-
ficialities of technical prowess and display. During the
next couple of years he acquired a new understanding
of what the composer was trying to say, and his playing
took on a more emotional tinge without losing any of
its brilliance.

His first visit to England was made in the summer
of 1920. He had by then made a number of excellent
gramophone records, some 70,000 of which had already
been sold in this country alone. His fame had therefore

JASCHA HEIFETZ 63

preceded him, not only by verbal and written reports
of his prowess. A huge crowd of his admirers assembled
to hear his first London concert, and were not disap-
pointed, for he was careful to play only works that he
knew r were especially suited to his style. The better
critics all spoke well of his performance, though with
some reserve. The Musical Times of June 1920, reported:
". . . it is only possible to say, negatively, that he
did nothing meretricious or that could offend fastidious
taste. . . . His ease is astonishing, and the way in
which even in most difficult passages he never scrapes
nor scratches is all but unparalleled. His tone is
strong and pure, like that of a high soprano rather
than of a mezzo-soprano."

At his second London concert Heifetz played the
Mendelssohn Concerto and Bach's Chaconne with less of
the restraint shown on the former occasion, and made a
very favourable impression. Later in the same year he
returned to London again and scored another triumph
with concertos by Paganini and Ernst. The critic
of the Musical Times said the performance could
rarely have been equalled for brilliancy and sheer
beauty of tone in even the most difficult passages. "He
plays this sort of music with a force of conviction that
makes one forget that its intrinsic value is not of the
highest." His playing of the Cesar Franck Sonata in
A the sonata that Ysaye made famous, by the way
was less successful as he seemed somewhat out of
sympathy with the mood of the work.

Then followed tours all over the world: China,
Japan, Australia, India music-lovers of all nations,
near and far, clamoured to hear him, and it is said that
even at this relatively early age his earnings were
comparable with those of Kreisler. He had now
changed from the bushy-haired youth into the reserved,
sleek and fastidious artist we know to-day. Appearances
are apt to be deceptive, of course, and many people do
not realize that Heifetz has always been quite an

64 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

athlete: he is very fond of rowing and swimming, and
can play an excellent game of tennis.

Heifetz is deeply interested in the Jewish problem,
and has the welfare of his race always at heart. It will
be recalled that in 1925 he built an imposing concert
hall at Tel-Aviv as a gift to the people of Palestine. In
the same year he became a citizen of the United States,
where he has lived for over a quarter of a century.

Musical education is also a subject about which he
feels strongly, and he has done much to get music
taught in schools as part of the general curriculum
instead of being regarded as a mere "extra" subject to
be taken chiefly by the more delicate children in lieu
of something more strenuous. He believes that all
children should be given the opportunity of learning
to understand good music, for its influence upon their
later lives and happiness makes it an art of great social
value.

On his tours he takes his two most precious fiddles :
the 1731 Strad and the 1742 Guarnerius used by
Ferdinand David, but, unlike many of the other great
violinists, he is keenly interested in the making of
modern instruments. He advocates the utmost
encouragement to makers of the present day, for they
have great possibilities, and it is quite likely that some
of the finest instruments of the future will have been
made during the twentieth century. These makers
will be less inclined to concentrate upon the construction
of really first-class instruments if violinists persist in
their prejudice against modern fiddles. No man is
likely to make a masterpiece if he knows in advance
that his work will be scorned by the better type of
artist.

During the Second World War Heifetz gave dozens
of concerts for the troops, in Italy and North Africa
as well as in the United States. When he played in

OD

an army camp for the first time he felt more nervous
than he had ever been in a concert hall, for he was
afraid that the men would not be interested in his play-
ing. So many artists had "played down" to what they
imagined to be the men's level that he felt he ought to
take the risk of giving them a sound classical programme.
At the outset he said that whether they liked it or not
he was going to start off with some Bach "because
Bach is good for you!" He was well rewarded, for the
men listened intently and in their applause left him
in no doubt about their appreciation. At the end of
the concert he asked them if they would care to make a
few requests, and to his delight there were calls for
"more Bach!"

Details of all his concerts for the troops cannot be
given here, but a fact of some interest is that in the
Middle East he gave nearly fifty recitals in two months.
He played anything up to ten encores at most of them.

His magnificent recital at the Albert Hall in the
autumn of 1947, when he played before the Queen and
Princess Margaret and an audience of over six thousand
will long be remembered. With the Royal Philharmonic
Orchestra tinder Sir Malcolm Sargent he gave masterly
performances of the Beethoven and Tchaikovsky Con-
certos ; a deeply spiritual interpretation of the former,
and a vivid, dramatic rendering of the latter.

His repertoire is vast. The concertos of Bach,
Brahms, Beethoven, Mozart, Tchaikovsky, Glazounov,
Sibelius, Vieuxtemps and Prokofiev are always being
demanded of him, but he also gives masterly renderings
of many of the less popular works, such as the Walton,
which he recorded some time ago for H.M.V., the
Gruenberg, 1 of which he gave the premiere in the spring
of 1945 with the Philadelphia Orchestra under Eugene

Gruenberg (b. Russia 1884, now an American citizen)
dedicated this concerto to Heifetz. It is a fascinating work
employing negro spirituals.

66 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

Ormandy, and the second violin concerto of Castelnuovo
Tedesco, 1 of which he gave the first performance in the
spring of 1933 with the New York Philharmonic
Symphony Orchestra under Toscanini.

Of his concerto recordings, the following are the
better-known in this country: Beethoven's Concerto
with Toscanini and the NBC Symphony Orchestra 2 :
Concerto in A by Mozart (K.sig) with the London
Philharmonic Orchestra under John Barbirolli; the
Prokofiev Concerto No. 2 in G minor with the Boston
Symphony Orchestra under Kousseviztky; the Brahms
Double Concerto in A minor with Emanuel Feuermann
and the Philadelphia Orchestra conducted by Ormandy ;
the Tchaikovsky Concerto with the London Philhar-
monic Orchestra conducted by Barbirolli; the Walton
Concerto with the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra
under Eugene Goossens; and the Brahms Concerto with
the Boston Symphony Orchestra conducted by Kous-
sevitzky.

His minor recordings are too numerous to be listed
here, but mention should be made of the Saint-Saens
Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso made with John
Barbirolli and the London Philharmonic Orchestra,
and the Cesar Franck Sonata in A recorded with
Arthur Rubinstein at the piano. All these are H.M.V.
productions.

As most violinists are aware, Heifetz has made many
fine transcriptions which reveal his great ability as an
editor. Some of the best of these are arrangements of
the works of Debussy, Godowsky (who was also born

1 Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco was born in Florence in 1895 and
made a considerable impression as a composer in Italy before
he settled in America just before the Second World War. This
second concerto is called The Prophets because its three move-
ments are supposed to depict Isaiah, Jeremiah and Elijah
respectively.

2 The cadenzas Heifetz uses in the Beethoven concerto are
generally supposed to be his own. This is not correct: they are
by Auer and Joachim modified by Heifetz.

JASCHA HEIFETZ 67

in Vilna and later became an American citizen) and
Albeniz. He has also composed a few works of some
merit, and has published some popular tunes under
the nom de plume "Jim Hoyl".

Heifetz was honoured by the French Government
in 1926 when he was made a Chevalier of the Legion
of Honour. Thirteen years later he was raised to the
rank of Officier.

His immaculate style, which most musicians regard
as the acme of perfection, has won him the allegiance
of more millions than he would care to count,, but it
should be said that in the opinion of some critics there
are certain types' of music in which at least two or three
other distinguished violinists can challenge his suprem-
acy. It is perhaps significant that Nicholas Slonimsky,
the eminent American musicologist (of Russian origin)
still refers to him as "the virtuoso of the new school of
cold tonal beauty" in his survey Music Since igoo.
In passing, it should be noted that Heifetz does not
regard himself as a paragon and is apt to take it as a
doubtful compliment when people assure him that he
was "born a great musician". He often points out that
the greater part of his success is due to nothing more
than sheer hard work.

Stories about him have been circulating in musical
circles for years. One of the best concerns a certain
other famous violinist who went with a pianist friend
to hear Heifetz. As usual, Heifetz won a great ovation,
and when at length the applause died down the other
eminent violinist mopped his brow and, turning to his
friend, remarked casually: "Phew! Very hot in here,
isn't it?" His companion turned to him with a twinkle
in his eyes and said: "Not for a pianist!"

A little anecdote that Heifetz tells against himself
relates of an incident that occurred during one of his
transatlantic crossings. A concert had been held on
board, at which he had obliged by playing a
few items, and afterwards he had played two or three

68 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

games of table-tennis, at which he happens to be rather
good. Shortly before retiring for the night he went
into the bar for a drink when a stranger approached
and began rhapsodizing about his playing. "I was
simply spellbound . . ." he raved, "it was one of the
greatest thrills I have ever experienced . . . why, man,
your back-hand return is marvellous !"

Heifetz was married 1 in 1928 to Florence Vidor of
Hollywood, the film actress. There are two children,
Josepha and Robert.

At home, he is a man of fairly simple tastes, though
his love of art and literature as well as music is revealed
in his fine collection of paintings and books. He loves
to give a party, but not of the reckless cocktail type:
his friends are generally expected to come prepared
to share his cultural or athletic interests, and when
drinks are brought round they come usually as a
refreshment after an hour of chamber music or fervent
discussion. The evening will quite likely end with
dancing, of which the great violinist is very fond.

At his chamber music parties one is likely to meet
two or three other musicians of the front rank, and they
will take a delight in proving to any listeners who
happen to be present that, contrary to the popular
notion, eminent solo artists can play together in an
ensemble and blend perfectly. For quartets, if they
are held in Heifetz's New York flat, he will produce a
table made to his own design which has music-rests
illuminated so that the players can see their music
while the remainder of the room is in complete darkness.
This, Heifetz declares, is the ideal arrangement for
chamber music, because he believes that, if possible, all
music should be heard in darkness. He always likes
to switch out the lights when listening to the gramophone

1 An announcement concerning the forthcoming second marriage
of Heifetz to Mrs. Francis Speilberg was made while this book
was in preparation.

JASCHA HEIFETZ 69

or a radio concert, for he maintains that the emotions
aroused by music are personal, and should be kept
private.

He knows that people regard him as "reserved",
but that is part of his mental make-up, and he dislikes
any great show of the emotions, just as he abhors the
expression of "temperament" by mannerisms and
eccentricities. He never goes out of his way to "make
an impression' 3 upon an audience, and that is perhaps
why some people imagine that he is indifferent towards
the general public. This is quite incorrect: he readily
acknowledges that he is a public servant and endeavours
to play the sort of music that will please the people.
But that does not mean that he is under no obligation
to teach them to love the best in music, and as an artist
he feels compelled to improve his programmes all the
time. He tries to understand his audiences, and as fast
as their taste improves he gives them better and better
music.

The garden of his country house is always a great
joy to him and he spends many hours working in it.
Unlike some of the other great musicians, he does not
worry unduly about his hands: you will find him
digging and weeding as unconcernedly as any country-
man. And he can always find pleasure in a long country
walk, especially if accompanied by his son and daughter.
Heifetz also takes an interest in photography, and is
not ashamed of his boyish love of a powerful car. His
friends agree that he is a model of good road manners.

For many years he has been an enthusiastic patron
of the cinema, but has protested over and over again at
the appalling reproduction of music that comes from
the talkie apparatus. For that reason he refused many
very enticing offers of film contracts, and did not relent
until 1939, when Samuel Goldwyn promised him
personally that whatever the cost he would be recorded
and reproduced in a manner acceptable to him. Heifetz
then stipulated that he would appear only in the role of

70 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

a concert violinist and under his own name, and that
he would play only music that was worthy of his
calling. All this was agreed, and They Shall Have Music
was the result. Curiously enough, when this film was
shown in England the reproduction of the music was
far from satisfactory.

A somewhat better film from the musical point of
view was Melody of Youth, in which Heifetz appeared
and played the Saint-Saens Introduction and Rondo
Capriccioso, and the last movement of the Mendelssohn
Concerto. This film was of more interest to violin
students since it gave many "close-ups" of the violinist
that showed his fingering and graceful bowing.

Yet another film featuring this great artist was
Carnegie Hall, but one cannot help wondering if Heifetz
is really convinced that the cinema can give even a
tolerable reproduction of his art. Surely he realizes
that however much trouble is taken with the recording,
the music can be made a mockery by a mere mechanic
when the film is being shown?

HENRY HOLST

ALTHOUGH many of us now regard him as
an Englishman, Henry Hoist is really of Danish origin,
and it is perhaps worth recording that in Jutland he
has been able to trace his ancestry back to the early
part of the seventeenth century. His forbears were men
of quite humble stock: fishermen, farmers, tradesmen
and schoolteachers, but they all seemed to possess those
qualities that produce a profound respect for arts and
honest crafts. There is evidence that music played an
important part in their lives, though it is true that none
of them practised the art professionally.

Hoist's father, for instance, was a schoolmaster,
accomplished and well read, who took a keen interest
in the cultural life of his village: he was the church
organist, he ran a string quartet, delighted in painting
and sculpture, and was an ardent booklover. He
collected a library of unusual interest and size, clothing
most of his treasured volumes with elegant leather
bindings in his spare time. Some idea of the infinite
patience with which he tooled these handsome bindings
may be gained from the volumes in his son's possession
to-day.

Such was the environment into which Henry Hoist
was born on 25 July 1899. He has many happy
memories of his home in that little village of Saeby, the
most vivid, perhaps, being of his father's string quartet
which used the services of a fisherman as a violist and
of the local chemist as a 'cellist. Music-making began
as soon as the , day's work was done, and Hoist can

71

72 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

distinctly remember how the violist would come
straight from his boat and play, with the fish-scales still
adhering to his fingers. Many a time was young Henry
allowed to stay up late, or even to come down from bed,
to hear them play something that he particularly liked.

He was therefore given every encouragement in
his interest in music, and as soon as he was old enough,
his father gave him a good grounding in the art of playing
the fiddle. Unfortunately, this able parent died in
1907 so he knew nothing of the success that his son
was to enjoy in the musical profession.

In 1913 Henry Hoist was sent to the Royal Conserva-
toire at Copenhagen, where for four years he was
privileged to study the violin under Axel Gade, son of
Niels Gade (1817-1890) the Danish composer, and the
piano and harmony under Carl Nielsen (1865-1931).
He made his debut at the age of eighteen in the same
city, playing among other things the first concerto
of Vieuxtemps and the Brahms Sonata in G. This
concert aroused considerable enthusiasm, and several
of the critics predicted a brilliant future for him.

Shortly afterwards, that famous Hungarian violinist,
Telmanyi, visited Copenhagen and was approached on
Hoist's behalf by Gade, who felt that the young artist
could benefit substantially by a period of instruction
from the distinguished visitor. (The willingness with
which the Danish teacher was prepared to hand over
his most promising pupil was typical of the way in which
he invariably put his pupils' interests before his own.)
Telmanyi gave Hoist an audition, agreed that he was
indeed a gifted young man, and accepted him for a
year's training. This was followed by a visit to Germany,
where Hoist studied with Willy Hess (1859-1939) for
a while. This further period of instruction with one of
Germany's finest violinists (a pupil of Joachim) en-
couraged Hoist to compete for the leadership of dfe
Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra, which became vacant
at about that time and was to be filled by open

HENRY HOLST 73

competition. He was one of the fifteen competent young
violinists chosen for the final contest, and was extremely

gatified when the decision was announced in his favour,
ne of the test pieces, he recalls, was the Ernst Concerto
in F-sharp minor: a work rarely, if ever, heard
nowadays.

So in 1923 Henry Hoist became the leader of one of
the finest orchestras in the world, and for the next eight
years enjoyed the wonderful experience of playing an
exceptionally large repertoire under almost every con-
ductor of fame. For a naturally gifted musician such
experience during the impressionable "twenties" was
bound to cause an unusually rapid development of
his artistic nature, and as soon as he began to appear
as a soloist many people remarked upon the depth of
his understanding of not only the classics but a vast
amount of modern music as well. It was a very strenuous
life, of course, but one full of interest and excitement.

It was perhaps inevitable that sooner or later Hoist
should have longed for artistic independence. However
delightful it may be to play under such dominant
individuals as Bruno Walter, Furtwangler, Mengelberg
and so forth, there comes a time when the artist within
any strong personality desires self-expression beyond
the very limited scope afforded by orchestral playiiig.
In 1931, therefore, Hoist decided to follow a more
independent path, and with some reluctance no doubt,
resigned his appointment.

Arthur Catterall had recently relinquished his
professorship at the Royal Manchester College of
Music, and when this position was offered to Hoist,
the young Danish violinist decided to accept it, dis-
counting, as Charles Halle had done some eighty years
previously, the popular notion about the average
Englishman's phiKstine attitude towards music.

Over fourteen years were to be spent in that dampish
city that has contributed so much to British music, and

74 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

during that period Hoist travelled extensively in the
northern counties as a soloist, very often with the Halle
Orchestra. Much could be written about his experiences
in that enthusiastic part of England, but it must suffice
to say that the one quality he admired above all others
in the northern music-lovers was their great loyalty
and kindness to any really competent artist who was
prepared to spend the greater part of his life in serving
the musical interests of the North.

Looking back over those years, Hoist can recall
some exceedingly gratifying experiences, as, for instance,
that memorable occasion in 1933 when with the Halle
Orchestra under Sir Thomas Beecham, he gave one of
the finest performances of the Sibelius Concerto we
have ever been privileged to hear. Then there was the
first European performance of the Walton Concerto
ig, 1941, which he gave with the Royal Philharmonic
Society. This concerto, by the way, he has now played
over twenty-five times.

In 1945 Henry Hoist left Manchester to take up a
professorship at the Royal College of Music, London,
and in the past year or two has figured prominently
in the musical life of the capital, not only as a soloist
and teacher but as leader of that accomplished ensemble
known as the Philharmonia Quartet, which was formed
in 1941 to make recordings for Columbia. In this he
is associated with Ernest Element (second violin),
Herbert Downes (viola) and Anthony Pini ('cello).

The Philharmonia Quartet's recordings include the
Mozart Quartet No. 17 in B-flat major (The Hunt} 1 ;
the Beethoven in F major, Opus 59, No. i (Rasoumof-
fskyY\ the Schubert No, 14 in D minor (Death and the
Maiden) 2 ; and the Mozart Quintet for Clarinet and

*In this recording the second violin part is played by Jean
Pougnet and the viola by Frederick Riddle.
*In this recording the second violin part is played by D. Wise
and the viola by Frederick Riddle.

HENRY HOLST 75

Strings in A major (K.sSi) made with Reginald
Kell.

Other recordings in which Henry Hoist has taken
part are of the Haydn Trio No. i in G major (with
Eileen Joyce, piano, and Anthony Pini, 'cello) ; the
Dvorak Trio in E minor (with Louis Kentner, piano,
and Anthony Pini, 'cello); and the Beethoven Arch-
Duke Trio No. 7 in B-flat major (with Solomon, piano,
and Anthony Pini, 'cello). All these are Columbia
recordings, with the exception of the last, which is H.M.V,

Hoist's tours abroad have taken him over the greater
part of Europe, and he has made a very favourable
impression in such countries as Norway, Sweden,
Denmark, Holland and Hungary, with a repertoire
that has included the concertos of Busoni, Elgar, Walton
and Sibelius as well as the more widely-known classics.
His favourite concertos, incidentally, are the Sibelius,
Brahms and Elgar, and it is perhaps of interest to note
that on the Third Programme recently he broadcast
a concerto by his compatriot Carl Nielson.

The outstanding feature of Hoist's playing is un-
doubtedly the fullness of tone which frequently gives
one a sense of great mastery, especially in such works
as the Sibelius and Elgar concertos. His unusually
strong and steady bow arm enables him to execute
forceful passages very impressively, and he can always
be relied upon to make the most of anything vigorous,
This somewhat muscular style seems in keeping with
what one might call his "massive" interpretation of
certain concertos. He is always stimulating a trifle
too vigorous for some people, perhaps and frequently
manages to bring out something in his tone that other
players seem to miss. Technically, he appears to lack
nothing.

Of his fellow artists there are three whom he admires
in particular: Heifetz for his superbly immaculate and
elegant playing, Szigeti for his intellect, great range

76 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

and Interesting choice of music, and Menuhin for sound
technique and many glorious attributes in tone and
interpretation.

His taste in music is comprehensive, and he enjoys
everything that is good even dance music. Just as he
loves the waltzes of Strauss, for instance, he can also
appreciate polkas, tangos and modern dance tunes if
they serve a useful purpose. He is always reluctant to
say what is good or bad in music, for he feels that this
is a matter that is largely decided by one's personal
taste. "If one gets pleasure out of music at a given
moment, 5 ' he declares, "it fulfils its purpose,- and might
therefore be regarded as good."

The teaching of music is a matter to be taken very
seriously, he feels, and believes that because it is so
essential that pupils should be able to hear their playing
as others hear it, the studio of the modern teacher should
be equipped with a recording apparatus so that after
a pupil has played, say, a concerto (with his master
playing the orchestral part upon the piano), he can
listen critically to his own playing and note all the
faults. It is a well-known fact that when at first they
listen to their own recordings, the majority of inex-
perienced musicians can scarcely recognize their own
playing! The pupil must know exactly how the music
should sound before he attempts to play it, and therefore
he should take every opportunity of listening to the
recordings of the great violinists if he is unable to hear
them in person. A pupil who can "hear mentally",
as it were, a concerto he is about to perform, will play
it almost subconsciously. Private recordings, or "play-
backs" as they are generally called, can also be
extremely useful in comparing one's own interpretation
of a work with those of other artists.

Henry Hoist has observed that in this country
technical perfection is demanded in an artist before
"soulful insight". However deeply one understands a
work, a British audience will give little credit unless it

HENRY HOLST 77

is played faultlessly; In other words, they will tolerate
an uninspired rendering, but not one marred by a wrong

note. Therefore, he urges the young artist in England
to strive first towards technical perfection and then to
add something if he can. England, he feels, is a very

educative country for the solo artist because of this
extreme love of flawless playing. Our critics, too, are

apt to be very severe.

To those who are troubled by "nerves", he would
say that regular practice, systematic memory training,

and, above all, an understanding of the psychological
side of playing are three essentials in gaining confidence.
He finds that the morning hours and late evening are
the best for practising.

"Like most other solo violinists. Hoist uses aluminium-
covered G and D strings, but until very recently always
preferred a gut A. Now, however, he prefers a nylon A.
(Nylon strings, being American, are extremely difficult
to get, and Mr. Hoist volunteers no information upon
the ways and means of obtaining them in this country!)
He uses a Guarnerius del Gesu dated 1742, but also
possesses a fine Joseph Rocca 1825,

Henry Hoist was married in 1926 to Else Werner of
Copenhagen, daughter of the eminent nature photo-
grapher. They have two daughters, Ingelise aged
twenty, and Helle who is twelve. Their home is in
Kensington.

His recreations are tennis, cycling, sea- and sun-
bathing and lounging in a comfortable armchair with
a good book near at hand. He is fond of reading history
musical history for preference.

FRITZ KREISLER

THROUGHOUT the world, the name of this
veteran violinist is familiar even to those who make no
claim to knowledge of musical matters. His appearances
nowadays are rare, but he will long be remembered as
a fine artist with a delightful personality and, strangely
enough, one of the smallest and most curious repertoires
ever possessed by a violinist who succeeded in winning
the respect of the critics. In the history of music he
will also take a minor place as a composer of many
pleasant little pieces for his instrument and as the
perpetrator of a hoax that fooled the musical pundits
for years.

* Fritz Kreisler was born on 2 February 1875, * n
Vienna, son of an eminent physician of that city. His
father, an enthusiastic amateur musician, taught him to
play the fiddle when he was very young, but found in
him a most reluctant pupil: the boy showed amazing
aptitude, but was not at all keen to practise. He
positively loathed "exercises". Nevertheless, parental
encouragement was strong, and by the time he was
seven he had become such an accomplished little
player that he was invited to appear at a public concert
with Carlotta Patti (sister of Adelina Patti). The out-
standing success of this concert, at which he played a
variety of little pieces with impeccable taste, made his
parents decide to send him to the Vienna Conservatoire
forthwith. On applying for his admission, however,
they discovered that the rules of the institution precluded
students under fourteen years of age, but they eventually

78

FRITZ KREISLER 79

managed to persuade the authorities that the lad's
talent was such as would justify a special exception to
the regulations, and he was admitted without further
delay.

- The young Fritz had been using one or two quite
ordinary little fiddles up to this time the first had been
made out of a cigar box, we are told but when he
first went to the Conservatoire he was presented with a
half-sized Thiers, which he used for several years, and
to win the gold medal. To celebrate this early success
he was given a three-quarter-sized Amati by a few of
his friends, but it was rather a disappointment to him
because he felt that he had become entitled to a full-
sized instrument.

At the Vienna Conservatoire he studied for three
years with Joseph Hellmesberger, and at the end of that
period won the gold medal mentioned in the preceding
paragraph. In those days he was rather under the spell
of Joachim, whose playing he greatly admired, and he
was also inspired by that brilliant and celebrated
pianist Anton Rubinstein.

Then he went to the Paris Conservatoire to make a
further study of the violin with Massart and to master
the intricacies of theoretical subjects under Delibes.
He was by that time a great deal more interested in
music generally, but still found the utmost difficulty in
practising patiently: many a time was he tempted to*
rebel against the drudgery of exercises, which, he felt,
took all the pleasure out of music. He invariably
devoted far less time to practice than that prescribed
by his teacher, but in spite of this neglect, he won the
Premier Grand Prix while he was still in his twelfth*
year, even though he was the youngest of forty con-
testants.

After about another year of study chiefly in Rome
he met Moritz Rosenthal, the pianist, and they
planned to tour together. Their decision to visit
America was a bold one, for Fritz was still only thirteen

80 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

and had not yet established himself in Europe, but the
experience was to prove useful in later life. His debut
took place at the Steinway Hall, New York, on 9
November 1888, and was quite successful. One critic
declared that the young violinist was a musician to his
finger-tips, and predicted that hard work and a few
more years 3 experience would put him in the vanguard
of his profession, but the majority looked upon him
merely as yet another child prodigy, and their remarks
did little to indicate the prospects of the young artist.
These moderate successes and mild notices of approval
by critics who did not take him seriously were a great
disappointment to both Fritz and his parents, and
consequently, on their return to Europe it was decided
the he would have to prepare for some other profession.
This decision was supported by his rejection by the
Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra when he applied for a
humble post as a second violinist.

J Fritz Kreisler was accordingly sent to the Vienna
Gymnasium to study medicine. It is to his credit that
he went willingly and applied himself with great
diligence, but it soon became apparent that he was not
meant to heal the sick, and his next move was to Paris
to study art. Now his interest in painting had always
been competing against his music, and it was quite a
good plan, in those impressionable years, to give it a
chance to flower. We are told that as an art student
under Julien he "shaped well", and that several other
responsible artists spoke enthusiastically of his prospects.
Meanwhile he retained his interest in music, but his
violin ceased to attract him altogether.

' We are so accustomed to regard Kreisler as a wealthy
man that it is difficult to realize that in those days he
was extremely poor. When he left Paris he decided to
study painting for a while in Rome, and to do so had
to exist chiefly on oranges and water! He loved the
student life of Rome" very nearly" as much as the
Bohemian existence he had enjoyed in Paris, but it was

FRITZ KREISLER 81

not long before he was entertaining doubts about a
career as an artist. His period of compulsory military
service was then approaching, and to the surprise of
his friends he started preparing for a difficult army
examination to get a commission. This he passed
fairly easily, and in due course found himself in a
regiment of Uhlans. During the ensuing year he left
his violin severely alone and took his military duties
with the utmost seriousness, -

When he returned to civilian life the question of
his career became one of paramount importance: he
could not go on changing his mind for ever. So with
some reluctance this is his own admission, by the way
he turned once again to his violin. As one would
imagine, he found that it was not at all easy to pick
up the threads again: he had lost the suppleness of his
fingers, and he discovered to his dismay that his
technique generally had become very rusty. There was
no alternative but sheer hard work. He went into the
country for eight weeks and practised continually for
lengthy periods every day. On his return he was
overjoyed when everybody told him that he was better
than ever before: his playing was quite as good as
when he visited America and he seemed to have a more
mature understanding of the music.

Then began the wearisome task of "getting known",
of convincing the impresarios, of pleasing the more
influential critics and so forth. "What a struggle it was!
There seemed to be so many other brilliant young
artists competing for the public's favour, so many
people with "big names" available for engagement, and
so few who were willing to give him a reasonable hearing*
The years 1895 to 1903 were one long straggle for recog-
nition, and it is significant that in his own opinion he
played quite as well then as in those later years
when he was a public idol. His first important success
was in 1899 when he made a brilliant debut in Berlin

82 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

playing concertos by Max Bruch and Vieuxtemps and
Paganinfs Non piu mesta variations. Even then the
majority of the critics completely failed to assess his
greatness as an artist: only one or two perceived that
a new virtuoso had arrived.

Later in the same year he made another visit to
America, and this time his reception was very much
better, for his interpretations of Bach, Beethoven and
Brahms made a deep impression. This was indeed
encouraging, but more disappointments were in store
for him. His first visit to England in the spring of
1901, for instance, was utterly depressing. He spent
weeks in London trying to get a hearing, but nobody
seemed at all keen to engage him. Eventually, he made
his debut here at one of Richter's concerts on 12 May,
and was scarcely noticed.

* It was America that gave him the greatest encourage-
ment, and his decision to visit that country again in
1902 changed the whole course of his life, for on his
outward journey he met a beautiful, red-headed, young
American lady named Harriet Lies, They fell in love
at first sight and the bold young musician lost no time
in asking her to marry him, Alas ! her father, a wealthy
tobacco merchant, was not at all keen on his daughter
marrying "a mere fiddler", particularly one whose
prospects were still rather uncertain, but love prevailed,
and the two were married in the following November.
A more suitable wife could scarcely be imagined, and
Kreisler has never ceased to praise her remarkable
intellect and uncanny intuition, which, he says, has
helped him over all life's difficulties. She has always
been "a great inspiration" to him.

1 His fame was now spreading rapidly. He visited all
the countries of Europe, establishing himself as one of
the finest living violinists, and in London on 19 May
1904 only a few years after his dismal experiences
here he was presented with the Philharmonic Society's
coveted gold medal. Success followed success, and a

NONA LIDDELL

II.

FRITZ KREISLER 83

typical example of the praise he now received may be
found in a report of one of the Queen's Hall conceits
at which he appeared under the direction of Sir (then
Mr.) Henry Wood. It is from The Strad of December
1905, and runs: "... before an enormous audience Herr
Kreisler played, as one inspired, Mozart's Concerto in
A and Viotti's in A minor, No. 22. The performances
were quite superb for the beauty alike of tone, tech-
nique and temperament, while no violinist alive or
dead has or could have had a more distinguished
style. 5 '

No useful purpose would be served by recording all
his many triumphs during the next few years, so we
may pass on to the year 1914, when the declaration of
war came as a great shock to Kreisler while he was on
holiday in Switzerland. His love of his native country,
and of Vienna in particular, would not allow him to
waver for an instant, and he proceeded at once to rejoin
his old regiment. He was stationed first in Galicia, and
was soon to find that army life in wartime was very
different from that experienced during his peacetime
training: he learned for the first time in his life what
it was like to sleep in a bed of mud. A violent contrast
to the comfortable and glamorous life of a travelling
virtuoso! These experiences made such a vivid im-
pression upon him that he afterwards published them
in book form. 1

On 6 September 1914 he was engaged in resisting
a Russian cavalry attack when a lance pierced his foot
and he was taken to hospital. Although the injury was
not very serious the authorities decided that his days as
a soldier were over, and he was discharged shortly
afterwards. He then began giving recitals in aid of
war charities and sold his famous Strad so that he could
give all the money to swell the proceeds of these concerts/
For the same cause he embarked upon another tour of
Weeks in the Trenches: the War Stor? of a Violinist.

84 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

America, this time taking an instrument worth only
300 dollars.

It was of course inevitable that America's entry
into the war should arouse violent antagonism towards
him, and he was obliged to withdraw entirely from
public life. He settled in Maine and spent most of his
time in gardening.

Any fears he might have had about a continuation of
this hostile attitude after the war were dispelled when
he resumed his career with a concert at Carnegie Hall,
New York, in 1919, for on this occasion he received one
of the greatest ovations he had ever known. Similarly,
he was given a tremendous welcome when he appeared
in London again at the Queen's Hall on 4 May 1921.
And, as everybody knows, his concerts during the next
two decades brought joy to countless millions all over
the earth. His world tours established him as the most
celebrated and popular and the most highly-paid '
violinist of the century.

A point of great interest in those days was his habit
of entertaining the vast audiences at his more "popular"
concerts with a variety of pleasant little pieces some
of them were quite trifling which he introduced as
transcriptions from the works of such composers as
Couperin, Martini, Vivaldi, Francoeur, etc. This
practice went unquestioned until the eminent American
critic Olin Downes tried to trace the origin of the
Praeludium and Allegro that Kreisler had been playing
as his own transcription of Pugnani. Finding nothing
like it among the works of this composer, Downes
challenged Kreisler on the subject. Previously, when
asked about such works, the great violinist had said
that he discovered them in various old monasteries
of Europe in which he had done musical research, but
on this occasion Downes was very persistent in his
inquisition, and eventually, Kreisler confessed that all
these works were his own composition. On 7 February

FRITZ KREISLER 85

1935, he cabled from Venice the following confession
to the Mew Tork Times: "The entire series labelled
'classical manuscripts 5 are my original compositions
with the sole exception of the first eight bars from the
Couperin Chanson Louis XIII, taken from a traditional
melody. > Necessity forced this course upon me thirty
years ago when I was desirous of enlarging my program-
mes. I found it inexpedient and tactless to repeat my
name endlessly on the programmes." -

* This confession caused a great sensation in the
musical world, and many of the critics attacked Kreisler
violently. The hoax was unparalleled in the history
of music, for while some composers had adopted
pseudonyms (the late Sir Henry Wood, for instance,
adopted that of Paul Klenovsky for his arrangement of
the Bach D minor Toccata and Fugue) none had tried to
pass off his works as those of an acknowledged master.
Naturally, those who most resented the hoax were the
musicologists who had been fooled by the great violinist's
action. v Kreisler defended himself with the argument
that as a young man he found that nobody would listen
to his compositions, but as soon as he attached recognized
names to them, they were immediately accepted as
minor classics! On one occasion he played his Liebes-
freud, Liebesleid, and Schon Rosmarin as transcriptions of
pieces by Josef Lanner, together with his own Caprice
Viennois, and was roundly abused by a well-known
Austrian critic for his audacity in daring to group one
of his own trifles with works of Lanner! Why should
a mere label transform a trifling work into a
classic?

To be quite fair, it must be said that a few critics
took his hoax in good part, and even acknowledged
that he had taught the musical world or shall we
say, musical snobdom a much-needed lesson, but
for several years afterwards the great violinist was
regarded with undisguised hostility in certain quar-
ters.

86 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

When Hitler annexed Austria, Kreisler applied for,
and received, French nationality, but for many years
he has made his home in America, and in May 1943,
he accepted American citizenship.

* In April 1941, he was involved in a street accident
in which he sustained severe injuries to his head. He
was in hospital for six weeks, during which time he
received many thousands of letters and telegrams from
all over the world, and well over a hundred offers of
blood transfusions. When he returned to public life
in November 1942 and gave a concert in New York,
his huge audience rose from their seats to greet him.*
During the next few years much of his time was spent
in giving recitals to wounded men of the American
army and navy.

Throughout the greater part of his life Kreisler
disliked broadcasting, and consequently was unheard
by many millions who were unable to attend his
concerts- Not until the summer of 1944 did he modify
his views, and this was only after he had given a series
of recitals and heard recordings played back to him.
Then he said that he was satisfied that he had learned
"microphone technique" and was prepared to make
further broadcasts occasionally. According to one
report, sums substantially in excess of 5,000 dollars
have been offered to him for a single half-hour broadcast.

His occasional concerts nowadays are always accor-
ded a place of honour in America's musical calendar, and
they are often in support of some good cause, as, for
instance, the remarkable performance he gave in New
York in 1946 at a concert in memory of the late President
Roosevelt. (Over 100,000 dollars was raised for the fund
to combat infantile paralysis. Some months later he
gave a recital at Atlanta, Georgia, that drew the largest-
audience ever known in that city.

The first full-sized fiddle Kreisler used was the Gand-
Bernadel presented to him by the Paris Conservatoire

FRITZ KREISLER 87

*vhen he won the Grand Prix de Rome, but he
was rather disappointed in its tone. A few years later,
his father gave turn a Grancino, which he used for the
next seven or eight years. Then he acquired from a
friend a damaged instrument that had been taken in
part payment of a debt, and believing it to be a fiddle
of exceptionally good tone, he had it repaired. To his
great joy it proved to be a genuine Gagliano, and after
only a small amount of attention it became one of the
most serviceable instruments he had ever possessed.
He used it continually until 1905, when he bought a
superb Guarnerius which he played for a couple of
years. Then he discovered another fiddle of the same
make, but of superior tone, and tried to buy it. Un-
fortunately, it had just been sold to a collector, but,
determined to acquire it, Kreisler sought out this gentle-
man and begged permission to play it. The collector
agreed readily, and being very moved by the great
artist's performance, said that anyone who could draw
such lovely tone from the instrument ought to possess
it: so he sold it to Kreisler for .2,000.! This exquisite
fiddle is dated 1737, and has the maker's initials set
in diamonds on the tailpiece. The pegs and buttons are
similarly decorated, and its silver case is richly overlaid.
The tone is very sweet indeed, but it seems to be a
somewhat temperamental instrument, and one must
understand its peculiarities in order to get the best out
of it. ,' Kreisler also possesses two or three other
fiddles of great valuer His famous "Lord Amherst"*-
Strad was sold recently to Jacques Gordon of the East-
man School of Music.

His style of playing is quite individual; it is full of
romantic charm, full-bodied and typically Viennese/
but at times one detects almost an English virility. His
tone is warm and glowing, and his superb artistry
becomes especially apparent in unaccompanied passages,
for his intonation is perfect and he displays great feeling
for the music. His profound cultural background has

88 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

undoubtedly deepened his artistic perception. A
musician, he believes, should possess a sound knowledge
and understanding of art generally, otherwise he is
bound to be at a disadvantage in trying to express his
feelings in music. 'Those who are interested in nothing
but their own art are not great artists," he maintains.

Kreisler is most interested in chamber music, and
has written a string quartet, but has never pretended
to achieve anything as an ensemble player. He did
appear in public once as a member of a string quartet,
but the result was not very satisfactory. He is also an
accomplished pianist, but again, never plays the piano
in public.

Apart from his many compositions for the violin, he
has written two pleasant operettas, Apple-blossoms (first
performed in New York in 1919} and Sissy (a moderate
success in Vienna in 1923), and the music for the film
The King Steps Out. Many of his arrangements of classical
and modern music are well known.

Several of his recordings are of his own violin pieces,
such as theRondino on a theme of Beethoven., Schon Rosmarin,
Liebesfreud, Liebesleid, Caprice viennois, Tambourin ckinois,
etc., but he has also recorded a number of his excellent
arrangements of little pieces by classical and modern
composers for H.M.V., as well as the Mozart Concerto
in D, the Beethoven, Brahms and Mendelssohn, with
the London Philharmonic Orchestra. With Zimbalist
he has also made a good recording of the Bach Concerto
for two violins in D minor.

There can be no doubt that Kreisler's strong person-
ality has contributed to his enormous popularity: his
bearing on the platform and that kindly smile have
done much to win the favour of his audiences. His
generosity, too, will long be remembered. After the
Great War, for instance, he gave the greater part^ of
his income to the alleviation of distress in his native
Austria, and his wife undertook personal responsibility

FRITZ KREISLER 89

for over forty war orphans. For five years he contributed
handsomely towards the support of 1,500 starying a.rtists.

Many other musicians have reason "to be ^grateful to
him for kindly acts and assistance in times of need. An
example of the sort of thing he used to do will be found
in an incident that took place during one of his visits
to Dublin. Walking along one of the main streets in
very bad weather he was vexed to hear a talented
young lady playing the violin in the gutter. He stood
for a few minutes listening as she played in the rain,
and then told her that he would find her a job. Of
course, he had no idea how to start this undertaking,
but he did not rest until he had secured for her a
permanent post in a theatre orchestra. -

He has always been unmoved by the favours and
patronage of royalty, and showed little enthusiasm for
their invitations unless they happened to be genuinely
interested in music. On the other hand, he has invariably
been keen to meet great scientists, philosophers, painters
and writers when on his travels, whether they have been
interested in music or not. His interest in science,
medicine and surgery is well known, but few of his
admirers realize that he can speak no fewer than eight
modern languages, and has also a good knowledge of
Latin and Greek. Incidentally, he is a fervent collector
of rare books.

His spontaneous wit makes him an ever-welcome
guest at the houses of his many friends, and he delights
in good company, but he loathes invitations to play
at private parties held by prominent members of
society. In his earlier days, particularly when he was
in his prime as a virtuoso, he received dozens of such
invitations and tried to discourage people from sending
them by charging very high fees. On one occasion a '
fabulously wealthy lady demanded his services, and
would not be deterred even when he quoted a fee of
3,000 dollars for playing just a few little pieces. So he
accepted the engagement. The lady then told him that

90 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

she did not wish him to mix with her guests, many of
whom would be very prominent people, and he replied
immediately: "In that case, madam, my fee will be
only 2,000 dollars. 3 '

' Kreisler has never overcome his dislike of practising,
and even when he was giving regular concerts he never
did more than three hours a day. During those years it
was his wife who kept him up to concert pitch, for if he
began to neglect his practising she would literally drive
him to it! While on holiday he would not touch his
fiddle for weeks on end.

He has always held the opinion that too much
practising is apt to cramp one's style, and that many
musicians worry so much about technique that they
tend to lose sight of the character of the music they are
trying to interpret. The hands should be regarded as
of secondary importance, for after all, they are but
executive organs of the mind. Kreisler has for many
years maintained that the suppleness of the fingers,
about which so many musicians are perpetually con-
cerned, can be maintained as easily by three minutes'
immersion in hot water as by a couple of hours of
wearisome practice provided, of course, that one is
playing fairly regularly.

He has no unusual methods to which he attributes
his extraordinary success, and any attempt to "draw
him out" on this subject generally results in a tribute
to his wife, to whom, he declares, he owes everything.
" But for her," he says, " I should be but an obscure
member of an orchestra."

NONA LIDDELL

ON the threshold of what promises to be quite a
brilliant career as a solo violinist is Nona Liddell, whose
playing has already won the commendation of several
of our leading musicians. Many young players with
good technique seem to be full of promise in their student
days, but fail to fulfil the hopes of their friends when
they get out into the world, so one hesitates to predict
the future of any of these "stars of to-morrow. 55 But the
case of Nona Liddell is rather different because she seems
to be more than a violinist with a fine technique: she
is a young musician of intellect, and has a personality
that is already showing itself behind the inevitable
modesty of a young lady just out of her 'teens.

She was born in Baling in 1927 and started playing
the fiddle when she was five. Her mother had been a
student at the Royal College of Music and had done
quite a lot of teaching in India. For nine years Nona
Liddell was a pupil of Miss Jessie Grimson, and then at
the age of fourteen went for a year as a private pupil
of Rowsby Woof. At sixteen she won the Ada Lewis
Scholarship to the Royal Academy of Music, where she
studied for two terms under Marjorie Hayward and the
remainder of the time under Paul Beard.

Miss LiddelPs general education was received at
the Notting Hill and Baling High School. A point of
interest is that when she made her d^but at a Promenade
concert in the summer of 1947 she appeared in the same
programme as Astra Desmond, the singer, who went to
the same school. Throughout her schooldays Miss

91

92 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

LiddelTs chief interest was dramatic art, and she spent
a great deal of time in organising and taking part in
amateur theatricals. The only prize she ever won was,
oddly enough, for sight-singing. Her best and favourite
subjects at school were History, English and French.

Nona Liddell's first professional engagement of any
importance was in 1943, when she was about sixteen.
This was at a concert held at the Wygeston Grammar
School, Leicester, in which she played, among other
things, three movements of the Lalo Symphonic Espagnole
and the Tartini G minor Sonata.

At the Academy she played an enormous amount of
chamber music which, she now feels, was largely
responsible for the excellent progress she made during
those years. She also feels very indebted to Paul Beard
for his splendid training and kindly assistance. Much of
the sonata playing she did in those days was with the
late Rae Leeming, a fellow student.

Her favourite concertos are the Sibelius and Brahms,
both of which she played with the Academy Orchestra
under Clarence Raybould before she left that establish-
ment in 1947, but she is also a great lover of Bach,
whose architectural splendour, she feels, outshines even
the noble symphonies of Beethoven. Most modern
music appeals strongly to her, and she is making a
special study of it, particularly the works of William
Walton and Benjamin Britten.

In March 1947 Miss Liddell went to Brussels with
a party of Academy students as the violin soloist. At
the Conservatoire they gave an interesting concert,
with Miss Liddell contributing such items as the Delius
Second Sonata and Ronald Smith's Legende for violin
and piano.

It is perhaps too early to say much about Nona
LiddelPs style, but she has considerable technical
ability and interprets with understanding. It is interest-
ing to note that she admires Ginette Neveu for the
"virility" of her playing, for her sincerity and great

NONA LIDDELL 93

artistry in subordinating her phenomenal technique for
the music's sake. Szigeti is admired for his superb
playing of the classics, and Frederick Grinke for his
sound musicianship and sensitive playing. She uses a
Testore dated 1733 and prefers a gut A string to the
more modern metal-covered type.

Miss Liddell is a voracious reader of fiction, history,
biography and mythology especially Finnish mythology
because of her great interest in the life and works of
Sibelius. Her favourite authors are Galsworthy, Somer-
set Maugham, Dickens, and all the Elizabethan and
Jacobean playwrights. She is still a keen theatre-goer
and is fond of art, but realizes that her knowledge of
it is very limited. She is tolerant towards dance music,
jazz and "swing" 1 , but is not an habituee of the ballroom.
Out of doors she favours swimming and sailing as
recreations.

She has two sisters: Olwen, a pianist, and Hilary, an
actress whose love of the stage enables her to stand the
racket of working in a repertory company not far from
London and travelling nearly a hundred miles a day.

*It seems that these tihree terms are not synonymous!

ALAN LOVEDAY

WE come now to the youngest of all the artists por-
trayed in this book: Alan Loveday, that remarkable
young man from New Zealand who caused quite a
sensation in the summer of 1946, when as a lad of
eighteen he made his first important public appearance
in this country at the People's Palace.

He was born at Palmerston North, New Zealand,
on 29 February 1928 superstitious people will no
doubt be able to connect this date in some way with
his "leap" to success and started to play the fiddle at
the age of three on a one-eighth size instrument made
specially for him. His father was for many years a
professional violinist and was therefore his teacher
until he came to England, while his mother made
herself responsible for his general education.

When he was about nine years of age he was heard
by the Budapest String Quartet, who were making a
tour of New Zealand, and they were so impressed by
his unusual skill that they gave a benefit performance
in his home town to start a fund for his training in
England. A small committee was formed, consisting of
the Mayor and other prominent local people, and by
X 939 sufficient money had been raised to send Alan
to London.

The year in which the Second World War broke
out was not an auspicious one for the arrival of an
unknown young violinist in this country, but he had the
good fortune to meet Albert Sammons some time after-
wards, and that eminent artist at once perceived in

94

ALAN LOVEDAY 95

him the makings of a fine violinist. He accepted him
as a private pupil, and in due course Alan Loveday was
awarded a scholarship to the Royal College of Music,
where he was able to continue studying under Sammons's
guidance.

Most people regard Loveday's appearance at the
People's Palace in 1946 as his debut, but he actually
played in public on two or three occasions before this,
one of them being quite early in the war when he played
the Mendelssohn Concerto at Worthing with Albert
Sammons conducting. This, by the way, was one of
the very few concerts at which Sammons wielded a
baton instead of a bow.

An important milestone in Loveday's career was
his splendid performance of the Tchaikovsky Concerto
at a Promenade concert during the summer of 1946.
This brought him not only the acclamation of a delighted
audience but praise from some of our most distinguished
critics. One of them, writing in The Strad, referred to
his "beautiful velvety tone produced without apparent
effort" and the purity of his intonation. The latter is
an important point, because one of Loveday's finest
accomplishments is his ability to play a beautiful note,
absolutely in tune, even in the dizziest harmonic heights.
This is something that cannot always be said about
certain violinists of international repute.

From that time, Loveday has been favoured with
a number of important engagements, including further
Promenade concerts, about fifteen or sixteen with the
Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra under such conduc-
tors as Sir Malcolm Sargent and Dr. Reginald Jacques,
and at least three with the Halle Orchestra under John
Barbirolli. So far, most of his appearances have been
in the northern counties, but with broadcast recitals
and future concert performances in London he is likely
to become a favourite all over Great Britain before he
is much older. He certainly has everything in his

96 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

favour his left hand is really quite remarkable and he
requires only that "polish" that a few more years'
experience will undoubtedly bring, together with an
improved vibrato, to establish himself in the front rank
of solo violinists.

Alan Loveday attributes his early success to good
training when he was very young. He uses all his fingers
on the bow, and seems to have no fads or "precious 5 *
notions about violin-playing. His love of Bach is as
fervent as that of a young organist raised in an English
cathedral, but his favourite concerto is the Mozart
Violin Concerto No. 5 in A major (K.sig) which, of
course, is included in his own repertoire with those of
Bach, Brahms, Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Elgar, Sibelius
and others.

His "ideal" violinist is Heifetz, and he never tires of
listening to the records made by that master. In
practising, Loveday finds that he can make better
progress by doing short, irregular periods than by
setting himself definite sessions of work. Lengthy
practising, however doggedly it is pursued, he considers
to be inadvisable.

In person he is typical of any other normal young
man of his age: he would far rather cycle in the lanes
of Sussex, where he lives, than spend his time in courting
the favour of the musical snobs. One could scarcely find
a more frank and unaffected musician. A million
other youths with his ability would have acquired at
least one pair of pink velvet trousers to go with it. Watch
him playing cricket or tennis and you will feel glad
that musicians no longer have to cultivate long hair
and unhealthy complexions in order to make an
"artistic" impression. Typical, too, is his candour in
acknowledging that he enjoys listening to dance music.
He is keen to see the world, and it is one of his ambitions
that he will be able to tour his native New Zealand,
Australia and America.

THOMAS MATTHEWS

A BRILLIANT English violinist of whom we
hear far too little, for some mysterious reason, is Thomas
Matthews : an artist of great technical skill.

He was born at Birkenhead on 9 May 1907, nephew
of J. E. Matthews, an accomplished violinist who used
to lead the orchestra attached to Sir Thomas Beecham's
opera company when on provincial tours. His uncle
taught him to play the fiddle when he was very small,
and even as a boy he was quite a proficient performer.
The full advantage of this early start was felt when he
was about fourteen, for the sudden death of his father
made it necessary for him to start earning his own living
forthwith. He was only fifteen when he was appointed
a member of the Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra,
and within a year he achieved the further distinction
of being admitted to the ranks of the Halle Orchestra,
thereby coming under the influence of the late Sir
Hamilton Harty. He held these two appointments for
ten years, during which he studied with Albert Sammons,
and in due course rose to the position of deputy leader
of the Halle Orchestra. During this period four summers
were spent abroad in taking further lessons from Carl
Flesch.

In 1936 Matthews decided to try to specialize in solo
work and accordingly resigned his orchestral appoint-
ments, He came to London and gave three excellent
recitals at the Grotrian Hall, as a result of which he was
offered a series of concerts In Finland. On this tour he
made a significant impression in the Delius and Mozart

97

98 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

concertos, which still occupy a prominent position in
his repertoire.

On his return to England, Matthews gave a magnifi-
cent performance of the Elgar concerto with the Halle
Orchestra under Dr. Malcolm Sargent, thus inaugura-
ting the association of his name with this monumental
work. He has now played it well over thirty times in
a manner that leaves one in no doubt about his admira-
tion for it: he considers it to be the greatest modern
violin concerto we possess. Many a music-lover will
remember the astonishing performance he gave of it
at the Coliseum with the London Philharmonic Orches-
tra in June 1941 : his seemingly effortless handling of its
more difficult passages and these are a gruelling test of
any violinist delighted everybody in the large audience.

The advent of war in 1939 was, of course, a great
anxiety to all soloists who had to support themselves
by means of their musical activity, and it is not* surpris-
ing that Matthews accepted an invitation to return
to the reconstructed Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra
as leader. Shortly afterwards, however, a similar invita-
tion came from the London Philharmonic, and for one
season he led both of these orchestras, but the strain
proved too great, and in the following year he resigned
his Liverpool appointment in order to devote all his
time to the London Philharmonic Orchestra, and
naturally to whatever solo work could be fitted in
with their arrangements.

An important milestone in his career was the occasion
in 1940 when he gave the first performance of Benjamin
Britten's Violin Concerto with the London Philharmonic
Orchestra under the direction of Basil Cameron. This
is another extremely difficult work one critic, it will
be recalled, remarked that the composer had evidently
made a point of exploring the very limits of human
endeavour but the fact that Matthews was invited to
repeat it in the North of England and at Bristol with

THOMAS MATTHEWS 99

the BBC Symphony Orchestra under Clarence Raybould,
shortly afterwards, speaks for itself.

During the later years of the war, Matthews made
several important tours of the Dominions, visiting New
Zealand, Australia, South Africa and the Middle East,
Among others, the concertos of Elgar, Britten, Beethoven,
Delius, Brahms and Prokofiev were played to very large
and appreciative audiences.

Another fine modern concerto with which the name
of Thomas Matthews will be associated is that of
William Walton. During 1946-7 he performed this out-
standing work with the Halle Orchestra under John
Barbirolli no less than nine times. In the same year
he was offered the head professorship of the violin at
the Royal Manchester College of Music, an appoint-
ment which he still holds with a professorship at the
Royal Academy of Music.

Matthews feels very strongly about the neglect of
British artists for those of other countries by some of
London's concert promoters. Ironically enough, British
nationality appears to be an impediment to the success
of an ambitious violinist only in English speaking
countries, for Matthews himself has played as a guest
soloist in Stockholm and Vienna, to mention but two
cities of culture and discrimination from which he has
received invitations. As an instance of this he has men-
tioned an occurrence in Johannesburg during one of his
tours. A discriminating musician happened to overhear
him playing over a few of the more difficult passages of a
concerto in his room at an hotel, and went at once to the
agent of a prominent impresario in a state of considerable
excitement. "I have been listening to a remarkably
brilliant violinist rehearsing at my hotel," he declared.
"You ought to get into touch with him immediately and
see if you can't fix up some concerts he has wonderful
possibilities."

"Have you discovered his name?" the agent asked
eagerly.

H

100 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

"Yes. It's Matthews/ 5 the other replied.

The agent's face fell immediately, and he shook his
head. "You can't promote a name like Matthews!' 5

The point that Matthews so often makes is that the
English artist is so rarely given a fair chance of getting
accustomed to concerto work. This is absolutely
necessary if one is to rise to the height of such
people as Heifetz or Milstein, both of whom he greatly
admires. However brilliant he may be, a violinist
cannot expect to give a beautifully polished performance
of, say, the Beethoven concerto, if he never gets the
chance of playing it with a symphony orchestra in
public more than once a year. Practice at home, with
the studying of gramophone records, is not the same.

Matthews uses a Matteo Gofriller, and prefers
"Pirastro" strings aluminium-covered. These, unfor-
tunately, are extremely difficult to get at the present
time. He always uses a Hill bow and considers this to
be the finest make in the world. His pupils are allowed
considerable latitude in the holding of the bow, though
he invariably uses all four fingers on it himself. Similarly,
he believes that fingering is a personal matter dictated
largely by the shape of one's hand. Every violinist must
himself determine the attitude of his left hand, avoiding
movements that seem unnatural to him.

He thinks it is most essential that the violin student
should learn the right way to practise early in life. So
many work hard at the wrong sort of practice and do
not discover the way to true progress until they have
passed the "impressionable" years. The young violinist
must learn to become his own critic: the average student
does not listen enough to his own playing. A vitally
important point to remember is that the tone of the
violin you are playing sounds different to the right ear
than to the left, owing to the fact that the latter is much
nearer the instrument. It is the right ear that hears as
the audience hear, yet the vast majority of violin

THOMAS MATTHEWS 101

students listen to their tone almost exclusively with the
left the right ear tends to become lazy because,
consciously or unconsciously, the effort of listening is
made by the left ear. This probably accounts for much
of the bad intonation we hear to-day.

Another criticism that Matthews often makes is that
there is too much uniformity in the playing of many
violinists to-day. So few seem to be able to explore the
amazing diversity of tone that the fiddle is capable of
producing: they generally succeed in doing so only when
they have become too old to give first-rate performances,
for the gift of producing a large variety of tones is one
that can come only with long experience. He considers
that among his contemporaries Ginette Neveu is one of
the few who are exceptionally gifted in this direction,
and he urges young violinists to listen carefully to this
artist's playing.

He advises the rising violinist to make a special
effort to identify himself with a particular work, or a
small number of works, or with a particular style of
playing. Some indeed many say that this form of
specialization is a disadvantage, but Matthews has come
to the conclusion, from his own very considerable
experience, that it is well worth while. So many of the
really great works for the violin require such a tremen-
dous amount of study if they are to be performed
perfectly that it is better to rise to fame with a reputation
for superb playing of two or three masterpieces than to
remain in the ranks of mediocrity with a vast general
repertoire. The standard of playing demanded to-day
is extremely high, since audiences are becoming more
and more discriminating every year, and of violinists in
particular, they expect impeccable artistry. 1

1 An interesting point arises here. It is the author's opinion
that before an average English audience a second-rate pianist
can "get away" with a piano-smashing orgy in which every
conceivable fault is apparent, yet the same audience will give
only the mildest applause to a well-performed violin concerto.
There is definitely a type of listener who honestly enjoys my

102 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

Matthews has always identified himself with the
Elgar concerto, and no one will deny that he is one of
the very few violinists in the world to-day who can give
a really intelligent rendering of this masterpiece. His
favourite concerto, incidentally, is the Brahms, which he
believes to be the most wonderful work yet written for
the violin, and one that demands the utmost skill in its
execution.

Until a few years ago Matthews was a keen golf and
tennis player, but he now finds that his time is wholly
occupied with music. His love of chess, on the other
hand, is undiminished. He considers it to be the greatest
game in the- world and confesses that he plays it at
almost every meal-time !

type of violent piano-thumping provided that the destruction
is carried out in the ritual of a concerto. Everybody knows
that it is far more difficult to produce a beautiful sound from a
violin than from a piano, yet virtuosity in a violinist is still
relatively unappreciated by the majority of concert-goers. It
requires something not far short of a miracle to make them
applaud as heartily as they would for a splashy keyboard per-
formance.

ISOLDE MENGES

ANOTHER eminent English violinist who in recent
years has preferred to concentrate upon chamber music
and teaching rather than concerto and other forms of
solo work is Isolde Menges, whose youngest brother,
Herbert, is the conductor.

Her father, George Menges, was of German descent,
but married an Englishwoman, and between them they
ran a successful school of music at Hove, where all their
children were born. They spent their honeymoon in
Germany and had dreams of having a child who would
become a great violinist ; in fact, with the rash optimism
with which young musicians are apt to be endowed,
they decided that while they were in Germany it would
be well to buy the proposed child a suitable fiddle!
So they acquired a good but tiny instrument and brought
it home confident that it would be put to good use.

Thus Isolde Menges, their first-born, had greatness
thrust upon her even before she was born. That event
took place in the year 1893. It would have been too
bad had she inherited none of her parents* musical
gifts, but any anxiety they might have had about that
was dispelled when she was quite an infant, for it soon
became evident that she had a remarkable ear for music.

Before she reached the age of four she had given a
little recital at her grandparents' house on the instru-
ment her parents had acquired for her. Six pieces
had been played entirely from memory, for she was
unable to read music at that time, and had to learn
everything by ear.

103

104 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

Isolde Menges received her early lessons from her
father and mother in the company of her sister,
Elfriede. Her two brothers, George and Herbert, were
taught likewise, so all the four children grew up in an
atmosphere of mutual music-making. Isolde even got
the idea that everybody learned to play the fiddle as a
matter of course, just as every child is taught to read
and write, and was amazed when she visited some friends
of the family one day and discovered people who could
not do so.

A governess was engaged to take charge of her
general education, and she was allowed to take additional
music lessons with Leon Sammertini, who is now at
the Chicago Conservatoire, and Emil Sauret. Then
at sixteen, she went to Russia to study with Leopold
Auer, and later spent two seasons with him at Dresden.

Her debut was made at the Queen's Hall when she
was about nineteen years of age. She played the
Tchaikovsky concerto and the Lalo Symphonie Espagnole
under the direction of Lyell-Taylor and was so success-
ful that a further concert was arranged a fortnight
later. At this she played the Beethoven and Wieniawski
concertos. Her first recital took place on 14 March
1913 at the Bechstein Hall.

Three years later she embarked upon an extensive
tour of America and Canada that lasted until 1919.
This gave her the opportunity of appearing with such
fine bodies as the Boston and Chicago symphony
orchestras, and she was acclaimed by the American
press as one of the greatest musical discoveries of the
age. Musical America, for instance, said that she was by
far the best female violinist that New York had ever
known.

Those who imagine that concerts for schoolchildren
are a recent innovation will be interested to know that
during this tour Miss Menges gave well over a hundred
concerts in various parts of Canada to audiences

ISOLDE MENGES 105

consisting exclusively of children, and gave patient
explanations of all the music she played. She has always
enjoyed introducing music to the young, and has a
charming way of analysing it so that even the merest
child can understand the composer's intentions.

During the nineteen-twenties Miss Menges toured
all over Europe establishing an enviable reputation
for herself, particularly in Germany where her playing
has always been highly appreciated. Typical of the
sort of notice she got is this report in Der Reichsbote:
' 'Isolde Menges 3 playing in the Bliithner Saal
was so wonderfully musical, and showed such depth
of feeling and beauty of tone that one at once recog-
nized her as an artist of the first rank. Above all,
she possesses the greatest essential, a strong artistic
personality."

The famous Menges Quartet was founded in 1931
and originally consisted of Isolde Menges (first violin),
Beatrice Garrelle (second violin), John Yewe Dyer
(viola) and Ivor James ('cello). A few years ago
Lorraine du Vail, a gifted Canadian violinist, replaced
Miss Carrelle, and Jean Stewart took the place of John
Dyer, though the latter still assists from time to time
when quintets and sextets are performed.

Miss Menges became a professor at the Royal College
of Music in 1931, and has never failed to find interest
and satisfaction in teaching. To her pupils she passes
on much of the wisdom she acquired from that
world-famous master Leopold Auer: she still has vivid
recollections of his remarkable classes, but she has no
special "method 33 , for no two pupils have hands exactly
alike, and therefore it is useless to try to force upon
them any set rules. Miss Menges emphasizes the signifi-
cance of freedom of movement, and the student is always
urged to "feel his way through the tone 33 .

In bowing the importance of balance can scarcely
be exaggerated: the third finger can be made to help

106 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

the fourth a great deal in maintaining a good balance,
while the significance of the thumb is not always
realized. Moreover, students do not always understand
that it is the first finger that has to give the tension.

Miss Menges deplores the modern method (favoured
by some teachers) of concentrating exclusively upon
technique at first, and then belatedly giving some
attention to interpretation. She feels that if a student is
to develop into a true artist he must learn technique
and interpretation together. Interpretation is a vast
subject: too vast to be mastered entirely in a lifetime,
so every music student should start this part of his
training at the earliest possible moment. Technique
only enables him to reproduce what he wants : he must
know what he wants from the start. -

Too many young musicians have made a fetish of
technique. They play the notes accurately but never
seem to have asked themselves the question "What does
the composer mean by this?" It is this unfortunate
neglect of interpretation that accounts for the "dead"
music we so often hear nowadays, and which is naively
excused as "purist".

Although the student cannot do better than to
work steadily at the classics it should be borne in mind
that the works of the "virtuoso composers" are extremely
useful in developing one's technique, and should be
used regularly, even if one personally dislikes them.

Miss Menges 5 taste is conservative: she names
Bach and Beethoven as the two "indispensable"
composers, and if she were allowed to play the works
of only two other composers she would choose Schubert
and Mozart. Her "ideal" violinist is Heifetz, whose
playing has always fascinated her, and she greatly
admires that superb violist, William Primrose. There
are, of course, various other fiddlers whose playing
she enjoys, but mere musical acrobatics do not interest
her.

ISOLDE MENGES 107

Miss Menges was married in 1920 to Harold Tod
Boyd, who wrote a fair amount of music for the violin.
He died in 1946. Her son, David, is now a student at
the Royal College of Music. He started learning to
play the violin when he was very small on the same
quarter-sized instrument that his grandparents had
bought on their honeymoon it is still in his mother's
possession but in time he showed a marked preference
for the piano, and is now studying that instrument.

Isolde Menges uses a Guarnerius dated 1714, which
according to Hill was made partly by Andrea
Guarneri (circa 1626-1698) and partly by Guarneri del
Gesu (1698-1744). She also possesses a fine Strad
dated 1714.

Meeting her in her delightful home not far from
Barnes Common, one begins to realize what a strong
personality she is: every year of experience has added
to her great store not only of musical knowledge but
of understanding of the philosophy that lies behind the
work of many of the greater composers. She reads
theosophy, philosophy, and good fiction. Dickens and
Thackeray are her favourites. But her accomplishments
are not all intellectual : she is tremendously fond of her
home and of animals (two cats, two dogs, a parrot
and poultry!), and it is chiefly this domesticity that has,
in recent years, made her less keen to tear about the
world giving recitals.

YEHUDI MENUHIN

THE name of Yehudi Menuhin is almost a household
word among those who are at all interested in music.
He won the heart of the musical public as a child, and
then did what comparatively few child prodigies
succeed in doing when they grow up: he retained it.
His boyhood triumphs made him one of the world's
greatest box-office attractions, and although as an adult
he has far more rivals than in former years, he can still
be relied upon to draw a larger audience than most
concert halls can accommodate.

He was born in New York on 22 April 1916, of
Jewish parents. His father was born in Russia, but
lived in Palestine for a while until he went to America
as a teacher in a Jewish school in New York. Before
Yehudi was a year old the little family moved to San
Francisco, for his father had accepted an appointment
there as head of a Hebrew educational organisation.

A story of his childhood tells us that when he was
about three years old his unusual sensitivity to music
induced a friend of the family to buy him a toy fiddle.
Little Yehudi already considered himself to be too old
for toys and scornfully refused to have anything to do
with it. The friend then thrust it into his hands and asked
him to play it "like a good little fellow". Whereupon
Yehudi threw it angrily to the floor and stamped upon
it.

This incident brought him a real violin on his fourth
birthday, and Sigmund Anker was called in to give him
lessons. No music pupil could have been more eager to

108

YEHUDI MENUHIN 109

iearn than little Yehudi, and within eighteen months
he was sufficiently advanced to go to Louis Persinger of
the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra. He never
seemed to weary of practising, and the progress he made
was such that, after playing in various private houses, he
was sought out to give public recitals. These were of
course minor affairs, but greater things were in store,
and he was only seven when he made his debut with
the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra. An audience
of 9,000 gathered to hear him play the Mendelssohn
Concerto and were almost staggered by his amazing
skill.

As a result of this triumph he was invited to play
in New York, and appeared at the Manhattan Opera
House. His real debut there, however, did not take
place until he was ten years old. Then he was given
the honour of playing the Beethoven Concerto at Carnegie
Hall with the New York Philharmonic Orchestra
conducted by Fritz Busch. On this occasion he used
not the twelve-dollar instrument that had been his
first love, but a three-quarter sized Grancino reputed
to be dated 1695 and worth over 10,000 dollars. Owing
to the smallness of his hands he was at that time unable
to tune it, and he had to pass it to the leader of the
orchestra two or three times for this purpose.

When the concerto started everybody's eyes were
trained upon the little boy in velvet breeches and white
shirt with short sleeves. He stood so quietly and
unconcerned during the tutti that many people
including members of the orchestra felt that he would
miss his entry. Surely this diminutive figure could not
match his skill with that of all these highly-trained
adult players? It seemed impossible. He would
probably continue to stand there and do nothing,
finally to run off the platform with a look of bewilder-
ment in his eyes. His entry came nearer and nearer,
and at the last moment only a few bars before he was
due to start he nonchalantly raised his fiddle and

110 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

started his gigantic task with all the self-assurance in
the world.

It was a memorable occasion. He played like a
virtuoso with thirty years' experience behind him. At
the finish the audience found that mere clapping would
not adequately express their feelings: cheer after cheer
broke out, and several hundreds of the 3,000 present
rose to their feet. Tears streamed from the eyes of old
ladies, and after the first acknowledgment of the
applause, Fritz Busch came down from his rostrum,
took Yehudi in his arms and kissed him.

Olin Downes, the well-known American critic,
said that he knew as soon as Yehudi's bow touched the
strings that his performance would be an exceptionally
intelligent one. Writing in the New York Times he
reported :

"Menuhin has a technic that is not only brilliant
but finely tempered. It is not a technic of tricks,
but one much more solidly established, and governed
by innate sensitiveness and taste. It seems ridiculous
to say that he showed a mature conception of
Beethoven's Concerto, but that is the fact. Few
violinists of years and experience, known to the
public, have played Beethoven with as true a feeling
for his form and content, with such a healthy, noble,
but unexaggerated sentiment, with such poetic feeling
in the slow movement and unforced humor in the
finale."

Menuhin's interpretation of the Beethoven Concerto
was no doubt the result of his two years' study in
Europe with Georges Enesco and Adolph Busch. He
had also played in Paris with the Lamoureux Orchestra
and gained some very valuable experience, so this
enormous success in New York was not a surprise to
many of his friends. At his Berlin debut in 1929 he
played both the Beethoven and the Brahms concertos
with such feeling that many people said they had heard
nothing like it since the days of Joachim. When

YEHUDI MENUHIN 111

Yehudi walked off the platform he was met by Albert
Einstein, 1 who said that his playing had proved to
him that there was a God in Heaven.

His debut in England took place shortly afterwards
at the Queen's Hall, and this was followed by a recital
in the Albert Hall, On both occasions his success was
quite sensational.

A similar triumph took place on 14 November
1931 when at Leipzig Menuhin played with the famous
Gewandhaus Orchestra at the great concert held to
celebrate the isoth anniversary of its foundation. After
the Mendelssohn Concerto, the conductor, Bruno Walter,
described his playing as a miracle and said that the boy
possessed genius of the highest order. This was the fiist
time in the history of the Gewandhaus Orchestra that
an encore was permitted: the audience were so persistent
in their demand that they would not allow the pro-
gramme to continue unless the "wonder boy" could
play again. The concert was followed by a splendid
banquet at which many of Germany's leading musicians,
artists and scientists paid tribute to their young guest.

Some idea of the affection that was felt for Yehudi
in musical and high social circles during his travels
may be gained from the fact that when he was taken
ill in Brussels, the late Queen Astrid commanded her
own physicians to attend him, and cared for him as if
he had been her own child.

For all that, the world's greatest conductor,
Toscanini, would at one time have nothing to do with
Menuhin. He heartily detested all child prodigies,
having for years been pestered by ambitious parents,
and would not consent to hear or even meet the lad.
Adolph Busch tried again and again to persuade him
to make an exception to his rule of ignoring all ap-
proaches from the representatives of child musicians,

x Not Alfred Einstein (the German musicologist) as some people
believe.

112 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

and it took him over two years to convince the famous
conductor that Menuhin was worthy of his attention.
One day, Yehudi was rehearsing a concerto quite a
routine affair and was taking no notice of the few
odd people standing at the back of the hall. After all,
at every rehearsal there are people connected with
either the orchestra or the management of the hall who
like to look in and see how things are going. He there-
fore made no special effort to impress them. To his
astonishment, therefore, he had scarcely finished the
last note of the concerto when he found himself taken
up and kissed by an excited gentleman pouring forth
superlatives in Italian. It was Toscanini : and from that
day the maestro and the youthful artist have been the
firmest of friends. Some time later, they went for a trip
together and Toscanini had to listen to his young friend
practising every day for hours on end. Those who know
anything about the celebrated conductor's temperament
will marvel at the fact that not a word of complaint
came from him. When somebody asked him about it
afterwards, Toscanini said that he had heard more good
music on that trip than ever before in his life.

Another well-known little story about the two
friends is of an occasion when Yehudi was playing the
solo part of a Mozart concerto to him in private. Sud-
denly, the telephone bell rang. Toscanini immediately
jumped up, tore it from the wall, and having silenced
it for good by dragging out the wires, settled himself
once again with the remark that now, perhaps, they
could enjoy the music undisturbed.

Menuhin has, of course, been privileged to enjoy
the acquaintance of many distinguished musicians, but
one whose friendship he particularly treasured was Sir
Edward Elgar. Yehudi was only fifteen when they
first met: he had been asked to make a recording of the
Elgar Violin Concerto and was anxious that the composer
should hear his interpretation of it before undertaking
this important commission. It was arranged that he

YEHUDI MENUHIN 113

should play it with piano accompaniment on a certain
Saturday afternoon. He visited the great composer on
the appointed day expecting to do anything up to ten
or twelve hours' hard work, for he did not know that
it took more than music to keep Elgar indoors on a
beautiful summer's day. They started the concerto in
the great man's study, but after the first page or two
Elgar stopped them and said he was confident that the
concerto would be all right in Menuhin's hands : it was
such a lovely day, and the races were on. . . .

Shortly afterwards, Menuhin played this concerto
under the composer's own direction: it was an experience
he will never forget. Elgar seemed really inspired, and
everybody played with a fervour that only the presence
of a genius can engender. The concerto has been one
of Menuhin's specialities ever since.

The young violinist was also a personal friend of
the late Bela Bartok whose violin concerto he interpreted
so perfectly that in 1944 the composer wrote his
famous Sonata for unaccompanied violin expressly for
him as a tribute. Menuhin gave the premiere of this
at Carnegie Hall, New York, and later brought it to
England to play it at one of his Albert Hall recitals.

We must now go back some years to mention
the tours of Europe and the western half of America
that Menuhin made during the years 1928-9. One of
the most outstanding concerts of this period was when
he played the Bach, Beethoven and Brahms concertos
in a single evening with the Berlin Philharmonic
Orchestra under Bruno Walter.

Those were years when his general education had
also to be considered, and in order that he should have
sufficient time for study and relaxation, Menuhin was
allowed to accept no more than two public engagements
a week. He generally averaged about fifty during a
season.

It was in 1930 that his sister Hephzibah began to

114 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

appear with him. She was born at San Francisco in
1920 and is an accomplished pianist, a pupil of Marcel
Ciampi. Her debut was made at the age of eight in
San Francisco, and although the general public knew
little of her before 1930, she had often accompanied
her brother at private recitals. A few years ago she
married Lindsay Nicholas, a young Australian farmer.
Menuhin has also a younger sister, Yaltah, who
frequently joins him in chamber music, being also a
fine musician. It is said that she has literary incli-
nations.

In 1935 Yehudi Menuhin made his first world tour,
visiting over sixty cities in over a dozen countries,
including Australia and New Zealand. Then he
withdrew from public life entirely for nearly two
years in order to study, to overhaul and vastly extend
his repertoire. Most of that period was spent on a
ranch in the Santa Cruz mountains, not far from Los
Gatos, California, a large and pleasant estate owned
by his parents.

When he reappeared, towards the end of 1937, and
made another world tour he was a mature artist in
every sense of the word: people spoke of him as one of
the greatest living masters of the violin. His studies
had convinced him of the value of several neglected
works, as, for instance, the so-called "Lost" Violin
Concerto in D minor of Schumann. This work,
especially, he included in several of his programmes,
thereby winning the approval of many of the critics.
The Strad 1 declared that he must be given the credit
for having "released that historically missing link
between the concertos of Beethoven and Brahms from
the library stacks to which the mysterious will of
Joachim had doomed it."

Again, it was Menuhin who discovered that Mozart
had specified the use of the mute in the second move-
ment of his third concerto (G major) .
1 March, 1939.

YEHUDI MENUHIN 115

In May 1938 he was married in London to Nola
Nicholas of Australia, sister of Lindsay Nicholas, who
was later to marry Hephzibah Menuhin. This marriage
was recently dissolved, and on Sunday 19 October 1947
he married Diana Gould, a ballerina, daughter of
Admiral Sir Cecil and Lady Harcourt, at Chelsea
Register Office while he was on a concert tour in
this country.

Menuhin is a robust young man, a picture of good
physique, and is keen on outdoor recreations. See him
riding in California and you would scarcely believe
that he was a professional musician. He loves camping
in the woods, swimming, cycling, walking and driving
his powerful car. Yet he is intellectually accomplished
as well: he can read and speak five languages, converse
upon art and politics, and hold his own in any company.
His literary taste reveals an unusually high standard
of intelligence.

To those who meet him for the first time he gives
the impression of being rather reserved. He is singularly
modest about his achievements and it is almost impos-
sible to get him to talk about his successes in the conceit
hall in fact he does not discuss music to any great
extent except, perhaps, with Toscanini, who is still
his idol. Menuhin displays none of those silly signs of
"temperament" that some musicians believe to be
impressive ; he is indeed a most placid young man and
never seems to worry about anything. Statistics from
the box-office mean nothing to him, His tastes are
simple, and the extravagance of some of the other
highly-paid musicians would appal him. This is perhap
due to his careful upbringing; his parents never spoilt
him, despite the huge income he made, in fact his
father, who used to manage his affairs, is reported to
have said that Yehudi did not possess a current account
at the bank until he reached the age of twenty-
one.

116 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

During the Second World War Yehudi Menuhin
made many tours in aid of war charities, some of them
taking him as far afield as Australia. For the same
cause he toured America in 1941 and crossed to England
in 1943. In one year alone he made over 75,000 dollars
for refugees. 1 He made an exciting tour of war areas
in 1944 playing to the troops, and is proud to claim
that he was the first artist to play in the Paris Opera
House after the liberation of France. Recent perform-
ances in England have included an appearance at the
Albert Hall on 26 June, 1945, when he played the
Beethoven and the Bach E major concertos as well as
the Vieuxtemps in D minor. The Beethoven and Bach
were both played exquisitely, but the Vieuxtemps fell a
little short of expectations, as did his performance of
the Dvorak Concerto on 15 June 1946 (BBC Music
Festival). At the Promenade conceit on 27 August 1946
he won a great ovation although he was still not quite
up to his usual standard. In the following year, however,
his performances in this country were impeccable.

Menuhin can produce from his fiddle a tone unparal-
leled in the history of the violin: for cleanliness, smooth-
ness and quality generally it is comparable with that of
Heifetz, but is considerably warmer. His style is capable
of seemingly innumerable variations, and technically
difficult works simply do not worry him at all. The
Bartok Concerto, which is considered to be one of the
most difficult we possess, he plays with incredible ease.

His art is still developing, and he will not always
interpret a work in exactly the same way. He was
once told that he had played a Mozart sonata differently
than on the previous occasion, and he at once admitted
it, saying that his feeling for it had changed somewhat.

When preparing a work he goes over it several
times, reading it mentally before he touches his fiddle,
because he likes to listen to the sounds created by his

1 It is reported that during the entire course of the War he
raised well over five million, dollars for various war charities.

YEHUDI MENUHIN 117

imagination as his eye travels across the page. He
always insists on playing from a first edition, and has
some sharp things to say about editors who try to
"improve" the classics. Toscanini and Enesco have
been the most influential musicians in his conception
of the works of the old masters, and he is always trying
to repair the damage done to some of the more popular
works by "clever" editors and those who are stupid
enough to allow themselves to be misled by such
vandals. He is not at all impressed by showy "virtuoso
music", by the way, although he occasionally plays it
in response to requests.

Among his collection of fiddles is the famous
Khevenhueller Strad, which was not included in Hill's
catalogue because it was in Russia for many years
unknown to the connoisseurs. It was made over 200
years ago for Princess Khevenhueller of Austria and
has been played by only four people since: Bohin,
Joachim, Popoff and Menuhin, to whom it was given
as a present for his twelfth birthday by one of his
admirers in New York: Henry Goldman. It is worth
over 20,000 to-day.

Menuhin's recordings are treasured by millions of
violinists all over the world, and are used by hundreds
of teachers in the instruction of budding soloists. Worthy
of special mention are the Mozart Concerto No. 3
with the Orchestre Symphonique de Paris, the Dvordk
Concerto in A minor made with the Orchestre des
Concerts de la Societe du Conservatoire, the Bach
No. i in A minor, the E major and the Lalo Symphonie
Espagnole with the Orchestre Symphonique de Paris,
and the Mendelssohn Concerto with the Orchestre des
Concerts Colonnes. All these were conducted by
Georges Enesco.

Under Sir Malcolm Sargent, Menuhin recorded the
Mozart Concerto in D major with the Liverpool
Philharmonic Orchestra, but in this the solo part seems

118 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

rather too restrained. Of special interest is his recording
of the Elgar concerto tinder the composer's own direc-
tion with the London Symphony Orchestra; and both
Memihin and his master, Enesco, can be heard in the
Bach Concerto in D minor for two violins made under
the direction of Pierre Monteux. Menuhin has also
recorded the Bruch Concerto No. i in G minor with
the London Symphony Orchestra conducted by Sir
Landon Ronald and the Paganini Concerto No. i in
D with the Orchestre Symphonique de Paris under
the direction of Monteux. The latter gives a good display
of his fine technique, but his expression can be better
appreciated in such a work (admittedly a minor one)
as the Hebraic Abodah (Bloch), a recent recording.

NATHAN MILSTEIN

MILSTEIN was born on 31 December 1904 at
Odessa, Russia, the birthplace of many of the world's
greatest musicians, including two gifted pianists well
known in this country.

As a boy he was keenly interested in music and did
very well indeed with a local music teacher, Stoliarsky,
during his schooldays. Deciding to make it his profession,
he sought admission to the St. Petersburg Conservatoire,
and was particularly gratified when he was given the
honour of studying with two of the finest violinists of
the day: Leopold Auer and Eugene Ysaye. The Great
War was then in progress, but the effect of this was at
the time less disastrous than that of the Revolution, for
this drove most of Russia's leading musicians out of the
country. Milstein, however, chose to remain, and the
departure of the "great names" in music eventually
proved to his advantage, for he was soon to seek public
engagements.

Despite his undoubted talent, his early struggles
were probably as arduous as those of any young artist
of the present day more so, in fact, for there were far
fewer opportunities. Nevertheless, as soon as he left
the Conservatoire he was able to get sufficient public
engagements to maintain himself, so his professional
career started forthwith.

Conditions in Russia were then appalling, and
Milstein must have wondered on several occasions
whether it was worth while going on. It was only the
enthusiasm and gratitude of those music-lovers who

119

120 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

were able to attend his concerts that made him persevere,
though it is true that he was encouraged when in 1922
he met another brilliant young musician who was
encountering the same difficulties. This was that
amazing pianist Vladimir Horowitz, who was a few
months older than Milstein and had just completed his
course at the Kiev Conservatoire. The young violinist
had been present at his debut and had felt so convinced
that Horowitz would rise quickly to fame that he sug-
gested that they could perhaps tour together. Horowitz
welcomed the idea, and they gave many concerts
together, making a most favourable impression upon
music-lovers wherever they went.

Because of difficulties in Russia, Milstein left that
country in 1925 and proceeded first to Brussels where
he sought instruction from Eugene Ysaye. But when
this great master heard him play he said "There is
nothing I can teach you that you do not know already 55 ,
so the ambitious young violinist moved on to Paris.
He arrived in the French capital unknown, with no
money, very little music, and worst of all no fiddle.
The only thing to do was to make as many contacts as
possible and hope for the best. This unenviable task
did bring him several new friends, however, and in
time his great skill and deep devotion to music prevailed :
one of Ms admirers offered to put up the money for a
public concert, another offered to lend him a Strad,
and thus he was able to make his debut. Several critics
were present at this concert and their favourable reports
began to arouse considerable interest in musical circles.
Various offers of further engagements came in during
the ensuing weeks, including one from Spain, where he
was immediately successful, and as Milstein became
better known the demands for his services increased
accordingly. Then came a tour of South America, and
within two years he was recognized in half-a-dozen
European countries as one of the rising violinists of
the day.

NATHAN MILSTEIN 121

It was undoubtedly his astonishing technique that
brought him the honours in those days, for his interpreta-
tions were considered by some critics to be a trifle
"raw". Fortunately, success never went to his head,
and he was wise enough to learn from those who
criticized his work intelligently. As a result, a few years
on the concert platform made a world of difference to
his style: his somewhat boisterous manner of playing
became tempered, and although he will probably
always be regarded as a violinist of the more vigorous
type, he did, in those early days of public life, develop
quickly into a very polished artist.

On his first visit to the United States in 1929,
Milstein had the good fortune to meet Stokowski, who
was immediately impressed by the young violinist's
technique and arranged for him to make his American
debut with the Philadelphia Orchestra. Stokowski
conducted, of course, and this great success put Milstein
on his feet in the United States, the country in which he
was to settle. He toured America and Canada every
year until 1939, and became a naturalized American
in 1943.

Milstein has never lacked admirers in Great Britain,
and in more recent years, especially, we have come to
regard him as one of the greatest of the celebrities who
visit us from time to time. It is true that some people
do not care for his style, but they are generally to be
found among those who dislike the vigorous "school"
of violinists. Milstein's playing would lose much of its
character if he dissociated himself from this school of
thought, and it would be a pity if he did so, for he
enjoys spirited and strenuous music: it suits his technique.
Many of his greatest successes have been in the perform-
ance of some of the most exacting works in the repertoire
of the violin. He has played under almost every
world-famous conductor, including Toscanini, Karl
Muck, Bruno Walter, Furtwangler, Mengelberg and
Beecham.

122 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

An interesting criticism of his playing is to be found
in a report of one of his concerts made by a member
of the Musical Times staff in the November 1936 issue
of that august journal:

"To hear Nathan Milstein play eighteenth-
century violin sonatas at his reappearance at Wigmore
Hall on 22 October was to discover a new pleasure
in chamber music. With Leopold Mittmann at the
piano he gave Vivaldi's Sonata in A major with a
fire and precision that fairly caught one's breath,
just because it breathed life into music that until
now had seemed to be dry bones. This was the
Vivaldi whom Bach admired: not that pedagogue
in whose likeness most people present the old Venetian.
And when Milstein came to play Bach's own Sonata
in G minor for violin and piano alone, he maintained
the fire, adding to it dignity and tenderness. He has
the strength, mental and physical, for this music,
and a supple turn of speed that belongs to youth.
One is accustomed by now to hearing fine technicians.
Each has his special virtues. Milstein excels in the
perfection of his playing of arpeggio passages of all
kinds: his performance of the Presto in Bach's G
minor was perfection itself. His Beethoven was less
satisfying, not because anything was amiss with the
execution but because some of Beethoven's thoughts
even in so open a sonata as the G major for violin
and piano, Opus 30 are still to Milstein a closed
book.'\ _

This criticism of Milstein's Beethoven might, perhaps,
be disputed, but it is true that in the opinion of some
of his admirers, his style is not particularly suited to
certain works of this great composer. His interpretations
are, on the whole, most enlightened, for he makes a
profound study of all the music he plays, and of the lives
of the composers concerned. Incidentally, he reads
deeply on the other arts as well, and is quite a good
painter in water-colours.

ISOLDE MENGES

National Concert & Artists" Cr#.

NATHAN MILSTEIN

I

2

GINETTE NEVEU

NATHAN MILSTEIN 123

His interpretation of the Brahms Concerto is always
most satisfying, and gives one a very good idea of has
musicianly qualities. This concerto was played by him
at the Albert Hall during his visit to this country in 1947,
and there must have been few in his large audience
who were not thrilled by his intensely sincere and
accurate rendering which, one felt, brought out all
the grandeur and nobility of this famous concerto.

Other concertos in his repertoire of which he is
particularly fond are the Mozart, Mendelssohn, Tchai-
kovsky, Glazounov and Dvorak. In his recital pro-
grammes he invariably includes an unaccompanied
Bach Partita and frequently two or more of the Paganini
Caprices, besides sonatas of Beethoven, Brahms,
Prokofiev, etc.

One of the recent additions to his extensive repertoire
has been the Stravinsky Concerto, of which he gave a
truly remarkable performance in New York with the
Philadelphia Orchestra under Ormandy a few years
ago.

During the Second World War, Milstein served as
Chairman of the National Committee of Concert
Artists for the U.S. Treasury's War Bond Campaign,
and spent much of his time in giving recitals in support
of the campaign.

In private Hfe, he is a rich personality, well read and
keenly interested in many outdoor activities. He loves
walking, climbing, swimming, motoring and even
cycling. Switzerland is a country that never fails in
its appeal to him, and he always tries to visit it during
the summer if possible with his very old friend
Horowitz. He plays a good game of both lawn and
table tennis.

For many years, Milstein played the Dancla^
Strad, but in 1944 he acquired the famous "Monasterio"
Strad. The latter was used by him in public for the
first time to celebrate the Allied Victory. Towards the

124 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

end of 1946 he bought yet another Strad, the so-called
"Ex-Goldmann" (dated 1716), which was hidden in
Europe throughout the Second World War, and which
he has renamed the "Maria Therese", after the names
of his wife and daughter. According to Hill, it is one
of the finest Strads in existence. Milstein generally
uses a Tourte bow, of which he has several excellent
specimens.

GINETTE NEVEU

GINETTE NEVEU 'S sweeping successes dur-
ing her earlier visits to England are still vivid in the
memories of thousands of music lovers : everybody liked
this unassuming French girl, and it was difficult to
restrain one's use of superlatives when describing her
genius for interpretation, for it was this rather than her
impeccable technique that put her in the front rank
of contemporary violinists. Fine technicians, after all,
are less of a rarity these days, but it is seldom that one
finds a young violinist with so marked a gift for getting
to the very soul of the music for understanding the
emotions that caused the composer to put pen to paper.
Soon after her triumphs in England, Ginette Neveu
embarked upon an extensive tour of America, and the
reception that she is getting there as this book goes to
press is further proof that she is destined to become one
of the few really great violinists of the century.

She was born in Paris on 11 August 1919 and was
blessed with a musical environment from the beginning
of her life. Her mother, who was her first teacher, was
a well-known violinist and professor of music, while
her father, though only an amateur, was sufficiently
accomplished on the fiddle to take part in all the music-
making that went on at home. And here we must also
make the acquaintance of her talented brother, Jean,
who was later to become an excellent pianist and his
sister's favourite accompanist.

Ginette Neveu began her study of the violin at the
age of five, and taking her music very seriously, made

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126 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

astonishing progress. She was little more than seven
when she had the honour of appearing in the great
amphitheatre of the Sorbonne with the Colonne
Orchestra under the direction of Gabriel Pierne.

She continued her studies, and a few years later
went to the Paris Conservatoire, where for twelve
months she worked under Jules Boucherit. After that,
she became a pupil of the late Carl Flesch, for whom
she had the greatest admiration.

It was before the end of the Second World War
immediately after the liberation of Paris that she
first came to England : a comparatively unknown
French girl who had never before played outside her
native land. With the French conductor, Roger
Desormieres, she made a fairly extensive tour of this
country and became such a favourite artist that she
was asked to make no fewer than eight return visits
during the ensuing year or two. With her brother Jean,
she gave a large number of recitals and also appeared
at many orchestral concerts under such conductors as
Sir Adrian Boult, Sir Malcolm Sargent, Walter Siisskind,
Basil Cameron, Charles Munch and Issay Dobrowen.
"England is a wonderful country for music," she
declares, cc and in this art she is leading the world. I
have been very happy to meet a great number of your
young artists, and I believe that England has some very
great composers at the present time William Walton
and Benjamin Britten especially. I have been particu-
larly impressed by the fact that your audiences are not
only cultivated from the classical point of view but are
genuinely anxious to hear new works and to understand
new tendencies in music. The English orchestras,
particularly the BBC Symphony Orchestra, the Halle,
and the London Philharmonic, are among the finest
in the world, and your recordings are the most perfect
I have heard.

"Not only do I owe the English my deepest gratitude
for having been the first to invite me to a foreign country,

GINETTE NEVEU 127

but I consider that music now holds such an important
position in England that no artist could establish an
international reputation without having appeared in
your fine country."

Ginette Neveu has now enjoyed great successes in
several other countries, her most important appearances,
up to the time of writing, having been in Vienna (with
the Philharmonique), Copenhagen (Staatsradiofonien),
Stockholm and Amsterdam (Concertgebouw), Boston
(with the Boston Symphony Orchestra under Serge
Koussevitzky) and New York (with the Philharmonic-
Symphony Orchestra conducted by Charles Munch.)
She has, of course, also played several times in Paris
with the Societe des Concerts du Conservatoire.

She frequently gives sonata recitals with her brother
Jean, who studied the piano at the Paris Conservatoire
under the eminent Yves Nat, and who invariably acts as
her accompanist when she plays purely solo works. Her
preferences in music, by the way, are for Bach, Brahms
and Beethoven, but she also makes a very conscientious
study of contemporary music* Her fiddle is a lovely
Stradivarius dated 1730, and she always uses Pirastro
strings.

Her principles in music she summarizes thus :
"Uart fun artiste est de toujours crier Us oeuwres mattresses
de la litterature musicale et ^instrument dont il se sert riest
qu'un moyen d*acceder a ce but"

She is interested in literature, painting, social
problems and, generally speaking, all that represents
a spiritual life in this world. To her, the other arts are
not merely recreations in the popular sense of the word,
for in her life "everything is recreation/'

At the time of writing, many of the best recordings
she has made in this country have yet to be issued,
but of those now available, her fine recording of the
Sibelius Concerto in D minor made with Walter
Siisskind and the Philharmonia Orchestra is the most

128 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

important, though there is splendid playing in some of
the smaller pieces, notably the Danse Espagnole of
Manuel de Falla, the Hora Staccato by the Roumanian
composer Dinicu, and the Four Pieces by the late Josef
Suk.

Ginette Neveu has made many friends in this country,
all of whom have testified to her warm-heartedness
and delightful sense of humour. She is quite without
affectation, and makes no show of what some people
fondly imagine to be "artistic temperament". She has
a strongly marked personality which does not, however,
obscure that of the composers whose work she plays.

NOTE. As the second impression of this book was in the hands of the printers ;
news was received of the sudden death of Ginette Neveu and her brother Jean
in an air crash on San Miguel Island in the Azores early on Friday, 28th
October, 1949. When her body was found it was observed that her Stradwarius
her most precious possession was clutched tightly in her arms. The violin,
though broken, had not been burned.

JEAN POUGNET

MOST people seem to be under the impression that
Jean Pougnet is a Frenchman; indeed it has been stated
several times that he was born in Paris, but this is quite
incorrect. He is of French ancestry, it is true, and speaks
the language perfectly, but even his parents were British
subjects; in fact his father held a civil service appoint-
ment on the island of Mauritius, where Jean was born
in 1907. His father was an excellent pianist, by the
way, and frequently gave lessons to local residents
aspiring to play that instrument.

The family moved to this country when Jean was
two years of age. His aptitude for music was discovered
by his sister Marcelle, who gave him his first lessons
on the violin when he was about seven, and his general
interest in the art was no doubt encouraged by the
activities of his brother Rene, an able pianist.

It so happened that they lived opposite that eminent
teacher Rowsby Woof, and because Jean seemed
unusually promising his sister took him across to their
neighbour and asked if anything could be done for the
boy. Woof was certainly impressed by Jean's playing
and accepted him as a private pupil. In due course-
when he was eleven he won a scholarship to the
Royal Academy of Music, where he studied for the next
seven years.

Jean Pougnet's first public appearance was when he
was in his twelfth year: he played a variety of pieces
at the King's Hall, Covent Garden. But of far greater
importance, of course, was the recital he gave at the

129

130 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

Wigmore Hall just before his sixteenth birthday: this
was a great success artistically, and led to his appearance,
shortly afterwards, at a Promenade concert.

While he was at the Academy, Pougnet had an
excellent quartet and did an extensive amount of
chamber music as well as occasional solo performances.
But he finished his academic training at a time when it
was far from easy for a young musician to make a living
exclusively in "straight" music, and for the first few
years of his career he had the moral courage to pocket
his pride and earn honest guineas by doing solo work
for a few of the leading dance bands. It should be
emphasized here that Pougnet is no snob : he has always
enjoyed good dance music, and is absolutely sincere
in his belief that the better class of dance band serves
a useful purpose both socially and artistically. Few
people realize what a high standard of musicianship is
possessed by some of the better type of dance musicians.
During this period of his career he was building up a
considerable classical repertoire, and frequently gave
recitals at the Wigmore Hall.

As soon as he felt sufficiently well established in
* 'straight" music, Pougnet abandoned his work for the
dance bands and undertook a variety of engagements :
solo recitals, concertos, chamber music, broadcasts,
recordings, and even went as far afield as the film studios
to make recordings for screen productions. His broad-
cast trios with William Primrose and Anthony Pini
were particularly good.

At the outbreak of the Second World War he was
chosen to lead that very select little band of players
known as the BBC Salon Orchestra; a fine ensemble
that did excellent work until its dissolution later in the
war years. Then, in 1942, he accepted an appointment
that was to make him a familiar and greatly admired
figure in every concert hall in the country: the leader-
ship of the London Philharmonic Orchestra. From that
time until the fall of Germany he led this stout-hearted

JEAN POUGNET 131

body of players through all the vicissitudes of those
difficult years. The story of their experiences as they
went up and down the country taking music and
cheer to war-weary civilians and service people has
been told elsewhere 1 .

In December 1945, J ean Pougnet bade farewell to
his colleagues and embarked upon a career as a soloist.
He had for some time been experiencing an increasing
demand for his solo services,, and as the building up of
a virtuoso's repertoire these days is a formidable task,
he felt compelled to make a clean break so that the
whole of his time could be devoted to solo work. He
still retains his interest in chamber music, of course,
and it is to be hoped that we shall still hear him quite
frequently in small ensembles.

Pougnet is undoubtedly one of the most brilliant of
the younger school of violinists and unless we encounter
another of those musical slumps that play havoc among
the lives of musicians, he would appear to have a fairly
easy road to fame. Technical difficulties do not seem
to perplex him at all notice how easily he sweeps through
the extremely difficult last movement of the Delius
concerto and his style has a refinement that the more
discriminating type of listener is bound to appreciate.
It is quite an individual style: light, fastidious and
restrained, and very pleasant in a wide range of works.
Moreover, he has a reputation for accuracy and
possesses a good sense of rhythm.

Of his recordings the best are perhaps the Bach
Double Concerto for two violins, made with Arthur
Grumiaux and the Philharmonia String Orchestra
conducted by Walter Siisskind with Dr. Boris Ord of
King's College, Cambridge, at the harpsichord; and
his fine recording of the Delius Concerto made with

briefly in my Conductors* Gallery^ and in more detail in the
interesting publications of the Orchestra's able secretary, Mr.
Thomas Russell,

132 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

the new Royal Philharmonic Orchestra under Sir
Thomas Beecham. The former was made for Columbia;
the latter for H.M.V. under the auspices of the Delius
Trust. But because of its considerable merit mention
must also be made of the Trio in G by E. J. Moeran
(recorded with Frederick Riddle, viola, and Anthony
Pini, 'cello).

Pougnet is an "idealist to the last degree" to quote
his own words, and has no narrow-minded prejudices
concerning music. He is interested in everything that
is worth playing and is a keen student of modern music.
He made a very good impression a year or so ago at a
Covent Garden concert in the Bloch concerto, for
instance, and recently gave the first English performance
of a concerto by Richard Arnell. At the time of writing,
two of our contemporary composers are engaged upon
works that will be dedicated to him.

In person, he is very pleasant, and modest in the
extreme. He dislikes talking about himself and even
tends to under-estimate the value of the great experience
he gained as an orchestral player. He is rarely to be
seen in London unless he has a definite engagement,
for his spare time is generally spent in study or recreation
at his home on the Sussex coast. He was married in 1929
to Frances Lois, a Londoner, and has no children;
the third member of the little family being an immensely
lovable Great Dane, to which both Jean and his wife
are quite devoted.

When Pougnet requires some diversion from his
fiddle a very fine Januarus Gagliano, by the way
he generally turns to something mechanical. He is
clever at contriving all manner of gadgets and is a most
useful "man about the house". He never seems to worry
about his hands, and if you were to pay him an unexpec-
ted visit you would probably find him working hard
in his garden or sawing up the branches of a recently-
lopped tree. On the platform he is apt to give the

JEAN POUGNET 133

impression of being a very fastidious young man, but
at home he is as unassuming and domesticated as any
suburban husband.

MAX ROSTAL

TO those who are interested in the art of violin playing,
the name of Max Rostal means more than that of a
virtuoso: it is a name associated with what one might
describe as a "movement" in the art, for the ideas and
ideals of this enlightened artist are being carried into the
world of music by an ever-increasing circle of musicians
who either were, or still are, his enthusiastic students.

Max Rostal was born in Austria in 1905 and started
to play the violin at the age of five. A year later he
gave his first public concert, which was the beginning
of a career as an infant prodigy. He toured a large
number of towns in Central Europe and frequently
had the honour of playing at the Austrian Court.

His first serious course of study was with Professor
Rose in Vienna, but at the age of thirteen he went to
Carl Flesch. Four years with this master enabled him
to make his debut as an adult musician at the age of
seventeen and he was then given plenty of opportunities
of touring in most European countries. He was only
about twenty when he won the Mendelssohn Prize at
the International Competition held in Berlin.

Even in those early days he was keenly interested
in teaching and readily accepted an invitation to become
the official assistant to Carl Flesch in Berlin. This
appointment he held until he was nominated to a
professorship at the State Academy of Music in Berlin
in 1929. As far as his official duties permitted he
continued to give regular concerts and he was able to
undertake several tours,

134

MAX ROSTAL 135

He bitterly resented the Nazi Party's intervention
in cultural affairs and early in 1934 found himself
dismissed from office in the company of many other
distinguished musicians, including Schnabel, Hindemith
and Feuermann. As he had several friends in England
he came to London with a number of his pupils,
determined to start afresh, and in time succeeded in
establishing himself, though not without some difficulty,
of course. He found us very reserved at first, but he
soon got to understand our mentality and has since been
acclaimed enthusiastically by audiences and friends
alike. Of the British audiences he is especially apprecia-
tive: he delights in the faithfulness they show to all
good musicians.

Since his arrival in this country he has played with
all the leading symphony orchestras and done a great
deal of broadcasting. His recording of the complete
set of Beethoven violin sonatas for Decca is yet another
of his outstanding undertakings. He continued to live
in London throughout the air raids and the flying bomb
and rocket attacks, and also visited many of the
provincial cities suffering from aerial bombardment to
give recitals and concerts. It will perhaps be recalled
that on Derby station one Saturday evening during
the blackout he fell over a mailbag when running for a
train and broke a rib. 1 This put him out of action for
four weeks.

His teaching remains an important part of his
activity and it is appropriate that he has been appointed
a Professor and Fellow of the Guildhall School of Music*
A much wider field of opportunity, however, has
recently been opened to him by the invitation he has
received from the BBC to give talks in the series
"Studies in Interpretation and Style" in the Third
Programme, and many a musician who might never
have the opportunity of studying with him in London
has been able to learn something of his ideas.
*Not a wrist as several newspapers reported.

136 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

Another interesting branch of Max RostaPs activity
is the editing and arranging of music, and research
work on seventeenth and eighteenth century music.
It was while he was thus engaged that he discovered
the manuscript of a work by Tartini that had never
been published. This he was able to arrange for
publication (Novello), after which he gave the first
performance of it.

Rostal has never been very happy about using the
existing cadenzas in the Beethoven concerto, and it
occurred to him some time ago when he was looking
through Beethoven's unfortunate piano arrangement of
the work that he could transcribe for violin the cadenzas
which the composer had added for the piano version.
This he did, and the result was most gratifying. These
cadenzas were then published by Boosey & Hawkes, so
it is now possible for any violinist to play the concerto
with cadenzas written by Beethoven himself. Rostal
invariably plays them whenever he performs this
concerto in public.

In the music of his contemporaries, Max Rostal
takes the keenest interest, and he has had the honour of
performing many English works for the first time. These
include the concerto by Bernard Stevens, Benjamin
FrankePs Sonata for violin, the Meditation and Lyric
Interlude by Alan Bush, the sonatina by Robin Orr, as
well as that of Lennox Berkeley, and many other works.
In his extensive repertoire the concertos of Moeran,
Bax and Bartok figure prominently, and his name will
always be associated with that remarkable concerto by
the Soviet composer Khachaturian, of which he gave
the first performance in this country.

To give even a rough outline of all Max RostaPs
ideas on violin playing would be impossible here, but
he has certain strong points of view that must be under-
stood if one is to appreciate his approach to the art.

He insists, for instance, that a violinist must be

MAX ROSTAL 137

acquainted with the life of the composer he is trying to
interpret, and with the social background of his period.
It is impossible for any instrumentalist to translate
into sound all the emotions, thoughts and peculiarities
of the composer if he is entirely ignorant of his life, his
temperament, beliefs, struggles, social environment and
so forth. Moreover, no violinist can properly interpret
a work if he is familiar with the composer's violin music
only. Rostal declares, for example, that a violinist
cannot comprehend Bach unless he understands the
great emotional experience that is the very soul of such
works as the St. Matthew Passion or the B minor Mass.
Similarly, how can one play even a minor work of
Beethoven intelligently unless one understands the
symphonies and string quartets and knows something
of the thoughts of the composer?

Max Rostal is equally outspoken about the type of
violinist who learns the solo part of a concerto and
then calmly includes the work in his repertoire without
even bothering to study the full score. It is unfortunately
true that there are violinists who know nothing more
of the orchestral part than their entries, and even these
have more often than not been learned from a piano
edition. How can one play the solo part of a concerto with
understanding when one is entirely ignorant of the form
or "structure" of the work as a whole? We are told that
more than one soloist has discovered with some surprise
during a concerto that the orchestra was playing and
developing the principal theme!

The necessity of a proper understanding of the
composers, and of their major works, is continually
being impressed upon RostaFs pupils. "The richer
the mind, the richer the experience, the more colourful
your interpretations will be," he declares. "You can't
have too much technique, but technique alone is of no
interest if the emotional and spiritual side is neglected."

Max Rostal believes that the shallow-mindedness of
some violinists was partly responsible for the decline

138 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

in the Interest of violin concertos and solos generally a
few years ago. The violinist should always remember
that owing to the very nature of his instrument he must
maintain a higher standard than the average pianist:
he has far less chance of "getting away" with a slovenly
performance. As Max Rostal neatly puts it: "The
violin has no pedal!"

His pupils are also urged to distrust the markings of
editors and to seek as far as possible (in manuscripts,
first editions, etc.) the composer's own indications on
every work that is studied. Even the rhythm and notes
of men's works have sometimes been altered by conceited
editors, and the true musician must be willing to go to
endless trouble to rectify vandalism of this type. "The
majority of editions are not to be trusted," Rostal
declares.

The question of style in playing is one that has always
been a matter of great concern to this artist. Too much
attention has already been paid to the "style" of
individual violinists and their adherents, and this has
been the cause of a great deal of wrong thinking.
Strictly speaking, the violinist should have no personal
style at all (if such a thing exists), because the style
should always be that of the composer he is interpreting
at the time. The so-called "Golden Tone" associated
with Kreisler has been made almost ridiculous by
indiscriminate use: it is, as Rostal says, like pouring
golden syrup over everything you eat, including fish,
meat and vegetables! Every single work requires its
own peculiar type of expression: there are, of course,
many similarities, but it is useless to try to prescribe
any definite style or tone for any particular composer.
Even within a single work, different types of expression
and tone are frequently called for, "Golden rules"
and generalizations are not only inartistic but definitely
misleading. The solution, surely, is for the musician
to become a faithfiil artist by making a sincere study of
everything he performs.

MAX ROSTAL 139

This brings us to another point: the extremists in
the opposite direction who, with the fond belief that
they are siding with the "purists", have evolved a non-
emotional style of playing that throws overboard all
the good traditions of the art, and with it, most of the
knowledge that has been gained from the masters. The
result is a cold, chromium-plated type of playing that
has little but a pseudo-modernism to recommend
it.

It has been said by some that Max Rostal is establish-
ing an English c 'school 55 of violin-playing, for none
exists at the present time, but it is doubtful whether he
would make such a claim himself, knowing the prejudice
that this might cause in certain quarters. Nevertheless,
his influence in this country is of the utmost significance
to the art of violin-playing, for he has pupils, or ex-
pupils, in every symphony orchestra of any importance
in England, as well as those who spread the good
news by teaching his methods, or are making a name
as soloists and chamber-music players. Students come
to him from all parts of the world: at the present
time, for instance, America, South Africa, Australia,,
New Zealand, Palestine, Sweden and Switzerland
are represented among his pupils. Time may prove
that just as one of our most famous orchestras
was founded by a German, what may prove to be
one of the most important schools of thought in
English violin-playing will owe its existence to an
Austrian, who, incidentally, became a naturalised
British subject soon after the end of the Second World
War.

A few years ago Max Rostal acquired a superb
Strad dated 1697, which is now known as the * 'Rostal
Strad", since it possessed no other designation. He
previously used a Guarnerius. His A and D strings are
^uminium-covered; his G and E being the usual
silver-covered and steel respectively, and he prefers to
use modern bows.

140 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

In private life, Max Rostal is a man of many interests,
though he would always say that music is his principal
hobby, and that he is one of those fortunate people whose
work is also their recreation. He is a keen collector of
first editions of music, not merely because of an acquisi-
tive instinct but because first editions are less likely to
bear the marks of "clever" editors.

In art his interest is centred around the work of the
French Impressionists, and he has several excellent
examples of their works upon his walls. His reading,
apart from books on music, is chiefly of philosophical
works, but he frankly admits that he can often be caught
with one of the better types of thriller, his taste for this
sort of literature having been acquired chiefly in railway
carriages when something fairly light, yet entirely
absorbing, was necessary to while away the many
weary hours of travelling that it has been his misfortune
to endure.

Out of doors his chief recreation is the driving of
Ms powerful car, and he is never more pleased than when
he is able to indulge in a few weeks' motoring in
Switzerland. He is also very fond of animals cats and
dogs in particular.

A visit to his house in Hampstead would make any
music-lover envious, not only of his fine library, but of a
delightful detached music studio of the type that most
of us long for, but so rarely succeed in acquiring (to the
disappointment not only of ourselves but of our unfortu-
nate neighbours). This one, at the end of his garden,
which, by the way, suggests that he has a positive
distaste for lawn-mowing, is a light and spacious sound-
proof affair that houses his collection of instruments,
including a fine grand piano, and his patiently collected
library of scores some thousands of them. There is a
no-nonsense atmosphere about this musician's workshop,
and one cannot help feeling a little sympathetic towards
the students who have to stand there and have their work
criticized by this very shrewd artist. However, Max

MAX ROSTAL 141

Rostal radiates an air of confidence, and one feels that
after a year or two in this studio with him one could
face an audience consisting of nothing but Richard
Capells and Ernest Newmans without turning a hair.

ALBERT SAMMONS

THERE must surely be few executive musicians
of to-day who have done more in the cause of
English music than Albert Sammons, and it was
with great pleasure and satisfaction that the musical
world heard of his award of the C.B.E. In the Birthday
Honours of 1944. With all due respect to the great
virtuosi of other nations, there is something refreshingly
different about the playing of "our own Albert", as
one conductor has referred to him, and if one may be
forgiven a somewhat extravagant analogy, it is rather
like going for a brisk walk across Wimbledon Common
on a breezy spring morning after an hour spent in
the humid atmosphere of a greenhouse in Kew Gardens.
There is beauty, plenty of it, in both cases, but in the
former there is physical stimulation as well, and in this
country most of us find that a very agreeable mixture.
This does not mean that foreign violinists are incapable
of giving a stimulating performance, because there are
half-a-dozen at least who pride themselves upon their
unusual ability to stir their audiences in this way, but
the stimulating qualities in the art of Albert Sammons
are characteristically English, and to define them
precisely here would be as impossible as an attempt
to analyse somebody's personality in a couple of
hundred words. And how immeasurably more difficult
it is to dissect the art of the executive musician than that
of the composer, the painter, sculptor or writer, for no
two performances are exactly aKke. But surely, the
reader will ask, the gramophone gives the violinist's

142

ALBERT SAMMONS 143

art a degree of permanence? That Is true, but can one
really judge a man's art from a mechanical reproduction
of it? Here we come to a very controversial point over
which a great deal of concern is felt. It is now quite an
old topic, so little more need be said here, except that
it is a matter that will crop up again later in this chapter,

No, one can do little more than to say that the
outstanding feature of Albert Sammon's playing, and
that which appeals so strongly to us in this country, is
its reflection of the wholesome qualities that go towards
the making of what we are still proud to call the English
way of life : its integrity, sturdiness, cleanliness, its lack
of affectation and that horrible, morbid trait that some
musicians cultivate with the notion that it is an essential
attribute of genius. This style is built upon the sure
foundation of excellent technique and a sincere desire
to play faithfully the music he loves.

As a man, he is the most normal person imaginable.
In town he would pass for a stolid business man with a
substantial house in one of the better-class suburbs;
in the country he might easily be mistaken for the
principal solicitor in the local market town with a
grim determination to buy all the best of Sir John's
silver as soon as the income tax collector succeeds in
driving the poor old boy into his grave. But meet him
in London and discuss music with him, and you begin
to realize that here is an unusually knowledgeable
musician who has derived the utmost benefit from his
many years' experience as an orchestral player, in
chamber music and as a soloist. That is an important
point, for Albert Sammons has never been too proud
to learn, in fact he readily acknowledges that he is
almost entirely self-taught. How different has been his
career from that of the pampered virtuoso whose
complacency sets in at an early age and stifles all further
artistic progress, who establishes a repertoire in his
'teens and then drags it all over the world for the rest
of his life like a conjuror with a bag of tricks. Sammons

144 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

is of the type who realizes that a true musician never
stops learning; a musician's education is never complete.
Yet it is not until he takes up his fiddle to illustrate
some point that he altogether ceases to be the conven-
tional type of man that his appearance suggests. An
expression of deep concentration and sensitivity appears
on his face, and if you watch him carefully as he calmly
plays a dozen bars of some extremely difficult concerto
you realize that he listens with the utmost care to every
note he produces. Watch his eyes, and you will see
that every note, every phrase, every expression, is
subjected, as it were, to an acid test as soon as it is
created. He has an exceptionally acute ear, and this
undoubtedly accounts for much of the merit in his
playing.

The life of Albert Sammons has not been an easy
one. He had the advantage of neither silver spoon nor
wealthy patron in his early days; he has climbed the
ladder rung by rung, from the very bottom to the very
top. He was born in London on 23 February 1886,
and in his childhood was encouraged to take an interest
in music by his father, who was a good amateur violinist.
No lad could have worked harder to master the fiddle
than Albert Sammons, and as his parents were not
wealthy, he soon began to look around for opportunities
to earn his own pocket money with his beloved instru-
ment. One thing led to another, and when this enterpris-
ing boy was about eleven years old he received an
engagement to play every evening in a Piccadilly
restaurant. The idea of a boy of that age earning his
own living seems almost fantastic to us to-day, but it
certainly did him no harm. He was blessed with good
physique, and never complained of the strain of playing
for several hours every evening after tiring days at
school. The orchestra played a wide range of light
classical music, and the experience was, of course, of
the utmost value; indeed, when Albert left school at

ALBERT SAMMONS 145

the age of twelve, he had no difficulty in securing an
engagement to play three times a day in the Earl's
Court Exhibition orchestra. Looking back, he realizes
that much was accomplished in those early days:
restaurant orchestras and the like were good training
grounds for any young musician, since they invariably
played tolerably good music, including operatic selec-
tions. The jazz band of to-day is a poor substitute
and offers very little scope to the music student who is
obliged to earn his living.

So Sammons continued to educate himself, though
it is true that he took half-a-dozen lessons or so from
F. Weist-Hill and John Saunders. His periods of study
had to be fitted in between all manner of engagements,
in the orchestras of theatres and hotels, and in various
other ensembles, some of which were formed for playing
at balls and other social functions. Many a time did
he don elaborate "musical comedy" uniforms for the
purpose of playing in Hungarian bands and suchlike.
He often recalls with a chuckle one Hungarian band
in which he frequently played: it was supposed to be a
genuine ensemble from Central Europe, and the players
were strictly forbidden to talk in case it was discovered
that very few, if any, could speak anything but English -
and that with a pronounced Cockney accent! Like
most other English musicians, Sammons learnt at an
early age that English nationality was the greatest
obstacle in the musical career of those who aspired to
rise from the ranks of the orchestra. But he steadfastly
refused to change his name, as several of his colleagues
had done, to something ending in "ini" or "etti" or
"ski" or "berg". Several people suggested that if he
had a year or two abroad and then returned with an
imposing foreign name and, perhaps, a habit of speaking
in broken English, he might rise quickly to fame, for
his remarkable technique was already the subject of
comment. It was a great temptation, but he decided
that it was his duty to play Ms part in breaking down

146 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

the absurd prejudice against the English musician, so
he would hear no more about it.

He continued his struggle, earning his living as a
rank-and-file musician, studying in his spare time,
earning a few honest guineas here and there by teaching,
and consoling himself that sooner or later his "break 95
would come. Many a time did he miss the last horse-
drawn 'bus and have to walk home three ^or four miles
while some foreign musician of lesser skill was being
taken back to one of London's more exclusive hotels
in a carriage.

At last, after some six or seven years, his opportunity
came. One evening in 1908 he played the last two
movements from the Mendelssohn Concerto at the
Waldorf Hotel, and was quite unaware that anybody
of musical importance was listening to him. Much to
his surprise Sir (then Mr.) Thomas Beechain came for-
ward to congratulate him, and later Coffered him the
leadership of an orchestra he was forming in connection
with a new venture in operatic and symphonic work.
Sammons accepted on the spot, and held this post for
the next five years, during which his progress was quite
remarkable.

Like most other good students of the violin, he had
a deep love of chamber music. Nothing pleased him
more, therefore, than the offer he received in 1909 to
become the first violin of that able group of musicians
later known as the London String Quartet. Warwick
Evans, Waldo Warner and Thomas Petre were the
other members. With them he toured Europe and
proved to foreign audiences that England could produce
string players comparable with any that came from the
Continent. This association lasted until 1919, the year
in which Saminons decided to give up string quartet
work so that he could specialize as a soloist. This did
not mean that he had lost any of his love for chamber
music: far from it.

His first concerto engagement was at the Kursaal

S^
.s

ALBERT SAMMONS 147

at Harrogate, but he was "discovered' 5 as a soloist when
he played the G minor Concerto by Max Bruch at the
Queen's Hall under Stanford. Imagine his joy when a
day or two later he received a letter from Sir Landon
Ronald saying that he had never heard a finer perform-
ance and inviting him to play at the Albert Hall.

Perhaps one of his most treasured memories of those
early days, however, was the occasion in 1912 when he
had the honour of playing the Saint-Saens B minor
Concerto before King George V and Queen Mary,
and in the presence of the composer. He had been
appointed Musician in Ordinary to His Majesty in
the previous year.

It is significant that Sir Thomas Beecham has always
held the opinion that Albert Sammons has at all times
fully justified his early confidence in him. Through
his connection with the great conductor, Sammons
received many excellent appointments, including the
leadership of the Royal Philharmonic Society orchestra.
He also went to Berlin as leader of Beecham's Russian
Ballet orchestra, and toured the British Isles with
that conductor's own symphony orchestra.

In 1913, Sammons accepted an appointment as
leader of the Dieppe Symphony Orchestra under Pierre
Monteux, little thinking that in the following year it
would be brought to an abrupt end by the outbreak
of the Great War.

A rather curious thing happened to him in 1914:
he was given a scholarship at the Royal College of
Music. The offer was fully appreciated, of course, but
he felt that to accept it would prejudice his professional
career, for he was already becoming well-known as a
soloist, so he asked the committee of the Patron's Fund
if, instead of the scholarship, he could be given a grant
to the value of it in order to pay off the balance that
was still owing to a dealer for his Guadagnini violin.
To his surprise, this most unusual suggestion was
adopted.

148 \ 7 IOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

Sammons's repertoire had by this time been enriched
by a work that he particularly loved : the violin concerto
by Sir Edward Elgar. This superb composition, of
which he was later to become the world's greatest
exponent, had been wTitten in 1910 for Kreisler but
had not, unfortunately, become very well known. At
the outbreak of the Great War, Kreisler, who was later
to join the Austrian army, was not available to play
the concerto, and the musical world looked to Albert
Sammons as being the only violinist who was capable of
giving a satisfactory performance of it. Nothing could
have pleased the English violinist more, and he gave up
a great deal of his time to the study and practice of this
superb work. It would be impossible to record the in-
numerable occasions upon which Sammons has won an
ovation with it, but it is significant that Elgar himself said
that no one seemed to get to the heart of the concerto as
Sammons did. Writing to the soloist after a performance
of it a few years ago, John Barbirolli, the eminent
conductor, declared : "We felt privileged to be associated
with you in the performance of the Elgar, which will
live long in our memories".

It was during the Great War, when so many of the
foreign violinists would not visit this country, that the
British musical public began to realize that Albert
Sammons had "arrived 5 * as a virtuoso of the front rank,
and had done so without calling himself Sammonstein.
That world-famous violinist Ysaye exclaimed: "At last
England has a great violinist," when he heard Sammons
play at Lord Curzon's house. Other distinguished
musicians present on this occasion were Lionel Tertis,
who has done more to reveal the charm of the viola
than any other string-player of the past or present,
and Arthur Rubinstein, the Polish pianist.

Soon after his enlistment as a private in the Great
War, Sammons found himself transferred to the Grena-
dier Guards, and while he was in this regiment he led
the strings of its orchestra and played the clarinet in

ALBERT SAMMONS 149

the military band. He had never pretended to play
the clarinet,, by the way, but a good musician can
accomplish all sorts of strange musical tasks in an
emergency, and with a few months' practice he was able
to play all the marches and "selections" beloved by
the band.

As soon as he returned to civilian life he resumed his
concert work, and before we go any further, mention
must be made of the important tours he made with
William Murdoch giving sonata recitals. These were
widely appreciated, and did much to enhance the
prestige of both musicians.

Not long after the end of the Great War, Albert
Sammons became very concerned at the inordinately
large number of foreign musicians who were pouring
into this country and taking concert engagements
from the British musician. No one would wish to
prevent a reasonable number of first-rate musicians
from visiting England, and few begrudge them the
fees they earn, although it may be said here that the
astronomic fees demanded by some of them are not
always in keeping with either their ability or their
respect for the music they play. But in the early years
of the "last peace' \ conditions were as bad for the
professional musician as they are for the public in
general to-day, and as more and more of these foreign
artists arrived to snap up what few engagements there
were, it became necessary for representatives of the
English musicians to take action. Accordingly, Albert
Sammons and a number of other artists, approached
the Ministry of Labour and demanded some sort of
official restraint upon these foreign visitors. Imagine
the horror and disgust felt by the indignant deputation
when a lofty civil servant informed them coldly that
while the Ministry of Labour sympathized with them,
very little could be done "because it would appear
that there are no great English musicians. 5 * Albert
Sammons has never forgotten that, and is therefore

150 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

not very sympathetic towards those who believe that
English music will never flourish until the art is
nationalized and all musicians become civil servants.

The name of Albert Sammons has become so linked
with the Elgar Concerto in the minds of music-lovers,
that some are apt to overlook another famous concerto
with which he will always be associated. This is that
superb work by Delius, which, because of its difficulty,
is liable to become neglected. When it was first com-
pleted the composer took it to Sammons for an expert
opinion upon the solo part. The violinist made a careful
study of it and then suggested a considerable number of
amendments, particularly as some passages were quite
unplayable. His suggestions were cordially welcomed
by the composer, and a revised version was prepared,
which, as many music-lovers are aware, is the one that
was used when Sammons recorded the concerto for
Columbia with the Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra
under Dr. Malcolm Sargent. Commenting upon his
performance, Delius said: "You played wonderfully,
and with such thorough understanding and poetic
feeling." He once declared that Beecham, Eugene
Goossens and Albert Sammons were among the few
who understood him and could properly interpret
his music.

Another concerto in which Sammons always shone
one uses the past tense because he has now given up
concerto work was the Brahms. After a performance
of it with the BBC Symphony Orchestra Sir Adrian
Boult wrote to him: "I can honestly say I never
enjoyed a performance of the Brahms more." That,
incidentally, was twenty years after he had first played
it during the Great War, when the critics even then
said that his performance ranked with the best from
abroad.

Then of course there is the Beethoven Concerto,
which has at all times held a place of honour in his

ALBERT SAMMONS 151

repertoire. He has played it over a hundred times
and seventy of them were during the Second World
War! This concerto, and the Elgar, Delius and Brahms,
take first place among his "specialities", though he
deeply loves the Mozart, Bach and Mendelssohn
concertos, and has given some fine interpretations of
them.

About the ever-popular Mendelssohn Concerto he
has strong views: first it is, and always will be, one of
the finest compositions ever written for the violin,
despite the sneers of those who invariably regard as
worthless everything that appeals to the "ordinary
listener"; and secondly, it is a very difficult work to
play well, notwithstanding the number of people who
regard it as one of those works that can be ripped off
without a rehearsal. "There are more bad performances
of the Mendelssohn Concerto by world-famous artists
than of any other work in the repertoire of the instru-
ment", Sammons declares.

In a recent discussion with the author, he said that
in his opinion the new Bartok concerto was very fine
music but not a successful violin concerto in the sense
that the Bloch concerto is, since Bartok apparently
overlooked the smallness of the violin tone in contrast
with that of the full orchestra. In this concerto the solo
fiddle can be heard properly only if the orchestra is
subdued to such an extent that much of the beauty
of the "architecture" is lost. A great pity, because
performances in which the conductor has to restrain
the orchestra the whole time with an iron hand arc
seldom very successful. In broadcast performances
the soloist can, of course, be brought nearer the micro-
phone, but that brings us to the thorny subject of
"balance and control" which seems to be a perpetual
perplexity with dozens of artists who broadcast regularly.

Like many of his fellow artists, Sammons feels some
concern about the degree of scope given to engineers
and others who are allowed to exercise control between

152 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

the microphone and transmitter, as it were. (Strictly
speaking, the placing of the microphone is a far more
important part of their work than the actual knob-
twiddling.) Too often is the balance between the soloist
and the accompanist far from perfect, indeed, there
have been occasions when the result has been little
short of ludicrous. Are these officials always qualified
to exercise such tremendous and vital "control 35 ? Do
they not work too much by "rule of thumb" methods?
There is a strong feeling among musicians that the BBC
should attend to this matter much more conscientiously
if it is to avoid charges of vandalism in the future.
Some of its outside broadcasts have been really incred-
ible, notably relays from the Albert Hall, certain
provincial halls and cathedrals. We have heard
orchestras and choirs that seemed to be almost devoid
of certain important sections, soloists that seemed to
be nearly half-a-mile away, and, worst of all, ensembles
that seemed to consist almost entirely of percussion
instruments! The old stock retort: "It must be your
set'* has long been refuted because dozens of people
with excellent up-to-date receivers have complained
on similar occasions.

In a discussion on this subject Albert Sammons
said he felt that the average "balance" test in the
studio was sometimes far too casual, and rarely took
into account the vast difference between an accompani-
ment that consists of heavy clumps of chords and that
which is made up of only a line or two of counterpoint.
In the latter case the accompanist could be much
nearer the soloist.

The same questions arise in the making of gramo-
phone records, though conditions are improving, and
the companies do seem more anxious to get first-class
results nowadays. Sammons has vivid memories of a
recording he made some years ago with William
Murdoch, They had been asked to record a Schubert
sonata for a certain company and had spent a great

ALBERT SAMMONS 153

deal of time in private rehearsal to get it as near perfect
as was humanly possible. In this particular work there
was a very delicate passage that had to be played in a
gentle, tranquil manner, but before they had played
more than a dozen bars of it in the recording studio
they were stopped by the engineer in charge who said
that they would have to play it much louder, and with
more "body", otherwise he would not pass it. The two
soloists were most willing to oblige, but were steadfastly
resolved not to do anything that would alter the charac-
ter of the work, for their professional reputations were
involved. After repeating the passage much in their
original manner it was apparently approved by the
engineer, but it was not until the records were on sale
in the shops that they discovered that the engineer
had taken matters into his own hands entirely, and had
amplified the section concerned to such an extent that
it sounded almost like a cornet solo! Then, on top of
this, one of the critics, in his review of the record, told
Sammons that if he couldn't play Schubert properly
he ought to leave it alone!

On another occasion Albert Sammons encountered
an engineer of that good-natured but very patronizing
type who regards all musicians as temperamental,
mentally deficient children who have to be patted on
the head and fobbed off with bland assurances that
everything will be all right. A recording he had made
was played back to him, and he felt genuinely alarmed
at the undue volume of his solo part, which again should
have been very delicate and serene. "Is that really
what the volume will be like on the finished records?"
he asked incredulously. "Oh no!" the engineer laughed,
"don't you worry, Mr. Sammons, we shall get it three or
four times louder than that before weVe finished with it !**

Conditions are not so bad to-day, of course, but
Sammons still wonders whether it is fair to judge any
musician from his recordings and broadcasts, for apart
from the general expression, so many little subtleties

154 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

in the playing of a fine artist who has spent months,
even years, in the study of a particular work, can be
"smoothed out" by a man who is more interested in
electricity or mechanics than music.

Noteworthy among the recordings made by Albert
Sammons are those of the Delius Violin Concerto made
with the Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra under
Sir Malcolm Sargent (Columbia) and of the Mozart
Concertante Sinfonie for violin and viola (1^.364) made
with Lionel Tertis and the London Philharmonic
Orchestra conducted by the late Sir Hamilton Harty
(Columbia). For the same company he has also recorded
Dvorak's Humoreske.

In his time, Sammons has played under almost
every conductor of importance in the world. One can
well imagine the rich experience gained from contact
with such a wide variety of musicians: Sir Thomas
Beecham, Sir Edward Elgar, Sir Henry J. Wood, Sir
Adrian Boult, Sir Hamilton Harty, Sir Landon Ronald,
John Barbirolli, Sir Malcolm Sargent, Mengelberg,
Nikish, Safonov, Ernaldi, Monteux, Bruno Walter,
and so forth. What a range of musical style is brought
to mind as one reads those names ! Sammons has happy
memories of all of them, as he has of the many com-
posers he has been privileged to know, and as far as
one can gather, his only complaint is that some of the
British conductors tend to show far more respect to artists
with foreign names than they do towards English soloists.

Just as he is a ready champion for the cause of the
British performer, Sammons is proud of the great com-
posers that have done so much to raise our reputation
in the world of music: Elgar, Delius, Vaughan Williams,
Bax, Moeran, Bliss, John Ireland, Walton, Benjamin
Britten ; all these, he declares, and many more, compare
favourably with any foreign composers of their genera-
tion. It is significant that the last four concertos he
played were those of Delius, Dyson, Elgar and Moeran.

ALBERT SAMMONS 155

He also attaches great Importance to the teaching of
the rising generation of musicians, and many a good
violinist of the future will be grateful for the fact that
Albert Sammons has regarded it as a duty to set aside a
definite proportion of his time to the training of the
artists who will succeed him. He is a Fellow of the
Royal College of Music, and is keenly interested in
his professorial work. Thomas Matthews and Winifred
Roberts were his pupils, and a very promising young
artist in his care to-day is Alan Loveday.

Sammons is himself of no particular "school" in
music, and believes that it is up to every artist to develop
his own personality. He has several ideas that have
been described as "revolutionary" and has evolved a
system of training using exercises that have the effect of
concentrating all the best methods of the older masters.
Most violinists are acquainted with his Virtuosic Studies
and The Secret of Fine Technique.

His advice to young players is "Concentrate upon
perfect intonation. You will never distinguish yourself
until your intonation is perfect, for it is this and artistic
interpretation that marks the difference between the
work of the great violinist and the mediocre. Bad
intonation is the student's greatest fault."

He is very modest about his accomplishments as a
composer, yet his Phantasy String Quartet in B won
him the Cobbett Chamber Music Prize some years ago.
He has written a number of pleasant little violin solos
that reveal a decided talent for writing effectively for
his instrument.

Sammons uses a superb Matteo Gofriller fiddle
dated 1696. This beautiful instrument by the Venetian
contemporary of Stradivarius has been his constant
companion for the past twenty years. Previous to that
he used a Strad, but he prefers his present instrument.
He has several other fiddles which need not be mentioned
here, and Is quite a connoisseur of all types of stringed
instruments.

156 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

Now a final word about him in general. Fame and
honours have left "our own Albert" quite unaffected,
and he has little use for the snobs of the musical world.
No airs or graces, no "arty" poses, no affectations, no
precious or "clever" theories spoil him: he can chat
for half-an-hour to any member of the orchestra without
making the latter feel self-conscious. And if you happen
to overhear him talking to Jim or Bill or Charlie you
will more likely hear him saying something about sport
than attempting to describe that marvellous but
unpublished quarter-tone rhapsody written by that
unknown but frightfully clever young man who wears
yellow trousers. It is twelve years since he played golf,
but there are plenty of his friends who remember what
a formidable rival he could be on the course. And in
the "nineteenth hole" they still tell you ^the classic
story of the newspaper reporter who interviewed
Sammons one year when he won the championship
at Bognor and gave a recital there the same evening.
"But doesn't your golf interfere with your fiddle-playing,
Mr. Sammons?" the journalist asked. "No," came the
reply, "on the contrary, my fiddle-playing is apt to
interfere with my golf."

COLIN SAUER

AMONG the rising generation of solo violinists
Colin Sauer is unique. He is not only an able musician
but a personality with a most unusual intellect, and it
is going to be interesting to watch his career. In the
struggle towards the front rank, the young artist of
to-day has little time for anything but practice, practice
and yet more practice. He may snatch an evening off
to hear an internationally-famed virtuoso, but that
evening will be spent in shrewd observation and critical
listening solely with the object of gleaning knowledge
that will be useful. He may read the life of a great
composer, but he will probably be making notes for
future use before he has got through the first few
chapters, He may spend an evening at a cinema and
allow his brain to be drugged for a few hours with
synthetic sentiment, but he will walk home bitterly
regretting the fact that he could have rehearsed half-
a-dozen sonatas in the time he has wasted. Or he may
even take a young lady for a walk across Hampstead
Heath, but the conversation will almost certainly be
of music or of other things they hope to do when music
provides them with sufficient income to get married.

It is unfortunately tine that many musicians possess,
or develop, one-track minds. But the explanation is
quite a simple one: unless he is a jazz-merchant, the
musician of to-day has to train himself up to a high
standard of proficiency and keep himself* there. To
do that he is not likely to have much time for anything
else before he reaches the age of thirty. After that age,

157

158 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

he probably doesn't bother about thinking of anything
else. There is, however, one other factor that must be
borne in mind: unlike certain other professions law,
medicine, literature, for instance music does not
encourage its servants to mix with the "laity 55 or to
understand them. A man could become a superb
violinist or singer without even attempting to probe
into the problems of humanity, but he would be a
singularly unsuccessful doctor or lawyer. It is true that
music takes the artist far afield, but how much does
the travelling virtuoso learn of the cities and people
he visits? Many an artist has assured us that there is
little difference between an audience in Manchester
and one in Munich, and at least one has had the impres-
sion of playing before nothing but rows and rows of
codfish. Music, therefore, is conducive to a form of
narrow-mindedness that is of no service to art in
general* It is an occupational disease to which certain
sections of the profession are more susceptible than
others. Composers, it seems, are comparatively free of
the infection but are not immune.

Colin Sauer is one of the few young solo artists who
plan their lives so that their intellects develop with their
artistic accomplishments. But that does not make him
unique, because others who may be numbered among
"the few" also appear in this volume. Where he
stands quite alone, however, is that he studies, among
other things, dogmatic theology!

Despite his foreign-sounding name, he is a typical
example of a cultured young Englishman, and his
parents are entirely British. He was born at Ilford on
13 July 1924, and knew nothing of the violin until he *
started learning to play it in a school class at the age
of nine. A year later he won a scholarship awarded
by the National Union of School Orchestras which
enabled him to make a further study of the violin in a
class held by that organisation at the Guildhall School
of Music. His progress was so remarkable that he was

COLIN SAUER 159

soon afterwards chosen to play solos at the concerts
held by the National Union of School Orchestras at
the Albert Hall.

Meanwhile, he was receiving a general education
at the County High School, Ilford. Mathematics was
his best subject, but some idea of his general intelligence
may be gathered from the fact that he gained nine
credits in the London Matriculation, and this was in
spite of all those little setbacks caused by the war,
evacuation and whatnot. In passing, it might be added
that he gave frequent recitals at school and, of course,
took part in all the other music-making activities there.

During his evacuation he was able to continue his
study of music, and in due course he won a scholarship
to the Royal Academy of Music, which decided for
him the matter of a career. He studied there under
Rowsby Woof and Frederick Grinke, and responded so
well to their instruction that soon after his admission
to the Academy he was able to accept orchestral
engagements. One of the first was with the New London
Orchestra under Alec Sherman, but he was soon to
accept an appointment with the Boyd Neel Orchestra
that was to last over two years. Useful experience was
also gained when he was given opportunities of deputiz-
ing in the London Philharmonic and Halle Orchestras.

Orchestral experience alone, however, is not sufficient
for a violinist aspiring to solo rank, and Sauer wisely
accepted an appointment as second fiddle in the
Aeolian Quartet. For two years he played with this
ensemble giving many recitals and quite a number of
broadcasts, but, in turn, this appointment had to be
relinquished when he decided to specialize in solo
work, since it would have been impossible to work
up an adequate repertoire in the small amount of spare
time he then had available.

At first he was content to gain experience as a soloist
in the provinces and with amateur orchestras, but in a
surprisingly short time he was appearing with good

160 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

professional string orchestras, such as Kathleen Riddick's
excellent ensemble, and at all manner of chamber
concerts, including that remarkable series at the National
Gallery. And here the reader must be introduced to
his sister Sheila, a talented pianist three years his junior,
who has proved herself to be an able accompanist
whenever she has appeared with her brother. Another
young musician of interest who has frequently accom-
panied Colin Sauer is Ronald Smith, a promising
composer. Sauer gave the first performance of his
violin concerto at the Academy under the direction of
Clarence Raybould a few years ago.

The first important recital given by Sauer in London
was at the Wigmore Hall on 17 October 1946; an event
that drew considerable attention to him even though
he was then at that awkward age when he could be
considered neither as a youthful prodigy nor a mature
artist. Still, as the editor of The Strad put it, he showed
his large audience that he was in quite a different
category from the usual "promising young fiddler",
The appropriateness of this remark was proved at
another recital he gave at the same hall during the
following summer, when his programme included works
by Handel, Bach, Grieg, Achron, Bartok, Delius and
NoviceL

Sauer's concerto repertoire is now being rapidly
expanded, but it already includes the three Bach
concertos, the Mendelssohn, Beethoven, Brahms, Lalo,
Tchaikovsky, Bruch, Sibelius and Vaughan Williams
(accademico], and by the time this book appears in print
the list will probably be quite a lengthy one.

The qualities that mark his playing are reliable
intonation and the absence of the roughness that so
often mars the work of young players. He uses
aluminium-covered A and D strings and the customary
silver-covered G. Of the violinists of to-day he regards
Heifetz as the paragon, but considers that Szigeti has

COLIN SAUER 161

few equals in the playing of Bach, and that for sheer
technique Ida Haendel stands alone, in this country
at any rate.

One reason why Sauer's intonation is so good is that
he has an unusually acute faculty for hearing music
mentally before he attempts to play it: a quality
possessed by all good conductors; in fact, one that is
indispensable to anybody who aspires to conduct. He
finds that he makes the best progress by playing very
short sessions of practice and doing a great deal of
thinking in between. Nevertheless, he is always trying
to discover the ideal method of practice: he finds it
almost impossible to concentrate properly for any great
length of time, and that practice without such concentra-
tion is of little value. By the ordinary vague and
haphazard type of practice, anything up to nine-
tenths of one's time can be entirely wasted.

Sauer finds that the best way to make steady
progress is to concentrate upon one detail or action of
playing at a time intonation, bowing, and so forth.
He has discovered that as soon as he is sure of the
intonation, a great deal can be done by practising the
left hand alone. Some of his friends are amused at the
methodical way in which he plans his rehearsing: he
allocates a certain amount of time to each particular
item and stops immediately he reaches the end of each
period regardless of whether or not the piece has been
sufficiently polished. He finds that on the following
day he can quite easily pick up the threads again
where he left off.

Typical of this young artist is his belief that life
itself is erven more wonderful than music. He deplores
the narrow-mindedness, the limited vision, of the
average executive musician, and insists that a musician
cannot develop as a true artist unless he tries to under-
stand the world outside his own little sphere; unless he
is willing to grapple with the problems of life.

162 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

Sauer takes a great interest in education and is
convinced that, despite the grandiose schemes of the
planners of to-day (they look so impressive on paper
but are so miserable in practice), we have an enormous
amount still to learn about the imparting of knowledge
to the young.

His reading of theology is no mere affectation: having
passed through the atheistic and agnostic stages he is
now a keen reader of Christian apologetics and will
travel miles to hear any preacher who has something
important to say, regardless of his denomination.
Incidentally, Sauer is always having terrific arguments
with his fellow musicians about religion. Evolution
is also a subject that used to occupy his thoughts a great
deal but lately it has been supplanted by philosophy,
psychology and logic ! (One hopes he will stay on these
broad and stable lines, and not start toying with the
"isms", which have proved to be the undoing of more
than one good musician.)

Having sketched the best part of a reference library
into this profile of Colin Sauer, it is now necessary only
to add the athletic touch only in this case it is more of
a splash than a touch, for while he was a schoolboy he
was as crazy about cricket as any youngster in the first
eleven, in fact for many years he wanted to become a
County cricketer! He was destined, however, not for
Lords but for Wimbledon, since the bat gave way to
the racquet during the early years of adolescence. At
fifteen he was accepted for the Junior Wimbledon, and
he might have become a white-flannelled hero in at
least one of the glossy weeklies had not a slight accident
in the summer of 1946 checked his enthusiasm for the
game: he strained a ligament in his right hand and
was warned that a repetition of it would seriously affect
his violin-playing.

And now, as he has occupied more of our space
than some of the violinists of international repute, we
must bid him a hasty, if regretful, farewell.

_ t^ s ?

f

MARIE WILSON

TOSCHA SEIDEL

AS a contrast to the precise and restrained style of
several of our leading violinists of to-day, Toscha SeideFs
playing is remarkable in its emotion: the artist in him
dominates everything, and he plays with a passion
rarely found in modern musicians. His rich, warm
tone can be sweet and gentle in a slow movement, bold
and virile in the next, and can culminate in a fiery
climax, yet all the time it seems to keep its own peculiarly
spiritual character.

Like Milstein, he came originally from the Russian
city of Odessa, where he was born on 4 November 1900.
His father was a local business man; his mother a
schoolteacher, and but for the existence of an uncle
who was an accomplished professional violinist, we
might look in vain into his family history for musical
antecedents of any distinction. But like so many
Russians of the middle-class in those easy-going days,
his parents were genuinely interested in music, and gave
their son every encouragement when he displayed
promise as a violinist. His first teacher was Max
Fiedelmann, but in due course he was sent to study
at the Stern Conservatorium in Berlin.

Seidel was also a pupil of the renowned Auer, and
in SaleskTs Famous Musicians of a Wandering Race there
is quoted a statement made by him concerning Ms
master's methods. It runs:

"Professor Auer always taught us to play as
individuals, and while he never allowed us to over-
step the boundaries of the musically aesthetic, he
M 163

164 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

gave our individuality free play within its limits.
When playing for him, if once I came to a passage
which demanded an especially beautiful legato render-
ing, he would say: 'Now show how you can sing!*
The exquisite legato he taught was all a matter of
perfect bowing, and as he often said, 'There must be
no such things as strings and hair in the pupil's
consciousness: one must not play the violin; one
must sing the violin'."

Seidel made his debut in 1915 when he played the
Tchaikovsky Concerto at Christiania, as Oslo was
then called. This led to a series of concerts in Scandina-
via and Leningrad that launched him on a successful
career. In his early youth he was so much in demand
that his mother became anxious for his general education,
which was in danger of being somewhat neglected, so
during those first few tours, and even on his initial
visit to America, she engaged a German professor to
go with him and coach him in general educational
subjects.

For a year or two, Seidel's popularity was confined
to Norway, Sweden and certain Russian cities, but his
American debut was a great triumph and brought him
almost at once into the ranks of international celebrities.
The late H. E. Krehbiel, writing in the New York
Tribune^ declared:

"In dash and fire, breadth of bowing, solidity
and richness of tone, his performance was unfor-
gettable."

A similar success was his first appearance in London.
The critic of the Daily Mail remarked that:

"Kreisler at his best did not play the Brahms
Concerto with more animated passion than this
youth, who showed no intimidation at its oppressive
traditions, rather handling it heartily, whereby the
music lived more warmly."

Then he embarked upon world tours that took him
almost all over the globe: he has been heard in every

TOSCHA SEIDEL 165

European musical centre of any importance (in Paris,
especially, he has won many an ovation), and he has
found favour in Australia and New Zealand as well as
the Far East.

America, however, was the country in which he
found the greatest scope, and it is not surprising that
he decided to settle there and to take American
citizenship. He was naturalized in 1924, and now has
a beautiful home in California where he frequently
entertains his many musical friends. His marriage to
Estelle Manheim took place on i January 1929.

Seidel has always been a popular broadcaster, and
for several years was the musical advisory director to
the Columbia Broadcasting System. His taste in music
is conservative, but he is not at all narrow-minded or
biased, and can be relied upon to pass a shrewd opinion
upon any type of music. Beethoven and Mozart are
probably his favourite composers, but it is significant
that he regards the Brahms Violin Concerto to be the
finest work ever written for his instrument.

In person he bears little resemblance to the average
man's idea of a professional musician: he is a short
but well-built figure fond of outdoor activities, especially
golf, swimming, yachting and driving one of those
enormously powerful cars that look like a cross between
a speedboat and an aeroplane. As a diversion from
music he reads a great deal of scientific literature and
dabbles in photography.

Films also appeal strongly to him, and just before
the Second World War he was associated for some
time with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. It will probably be
recalled that he recorded the sound-track of the
Intermezzo in the film Escape to Happiness^ which
featured Leslie Howard and Ingrid Bergman. To
satisfy public demand, he afterwards made an ordinary
gramophone record of this little Intermezzo, whicfi
is called Souvenir de Vieme*

166 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

One more point of biographical interest: in the
summer of 1942 Seidel joined the U.S. Navy, and finding
himself in the company of a few members of the Los
Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra, he organized a string
quartet. Facilities for practising were given to them
at their training station, and for some time afterwards
they gave regular recitals to sailors in the naval hospital.
As a result of this activity he was later appointed
assistant bandmaster and soloist at the naval training
station at San Diego, California.

JOSEPH SZIGETI

THE name of Szigeti has already been mentioned
several times in this book, chiefly by those of his con-
temporaries who greatly admire his * 'steel and velvet"
tone, as one critic has described it. His approach to
his art is essentially an intellectual one, and consequently
he enjoys the esteem not only of the greater critics but
of most modern composers, whose works he interprets
with understanding and scrupulous care. His non-
emotional manner of playing is apt to leave some
listeners unmoved, and one occasionally hears it said
that his "cerebral" interpretations lack feeling, but no
one can deny that he is a great artist, and few would
really wish him to modify the style that he has made
his own.

He was born at Budapest on 5 September 1892,
taught by his father with the assistance of an uncle,
and in due course was admitted to the Budapest
Royal Academy of Music, where he became a pupil
of that fine Hungarian violinist Jeno Httbay (1858-1937).
Hubay's class was a bewildering collection of prodigies
bent upon mastering the technicalities of violin-playpg
in the shortest possible time so that they could satisfy
the ambitions of their parents, but it was the best
training ground available to Srigeti at the time, and he
was only twelve years old when he had the honour of
playing to Joachim, who was deeply impressed by his
skill and gave him every encouragement.

A year later he appeared at a public concert held
at the Budapest Academy, and shortly afterwards made

167

168 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

a successful debut In Berlin. Then in 1906 he came to
England, and made his home here for over six years.

His London debut at the Bechstein (now Wigmore)
Hall was approved by many of our more discriminating
musicians, but caused little stir in the press, probably
on account of the number of boy prodigies that were
then being thrust before the public. The Musical Times
dismissed the recital in three lin^s thus: "Joska Szigeti,
another Hungarian violinist prodigy, made his first
appearance in England at the Bechstein Hall on
24 May with the usual success." However, he then
embarked upon a tour of the provinces and from time
to time made many more highly-successful appearances
in London, often in the distinguished company of such
people as Busoni, Backhaus and Melba.

In passing it should be said that he was a perfectly
normal boy who lived a happy, healthy life. There
was nothing of the pampered darling about him, and
he was not made to live in the "hot-house" atmosphere
enjoyed by the average child prodigy.

As he grew up he transformed himself from the usual
gifted child into an adult artist with a great deal more
success than is usually the case: his musical intuition
developed amazingly, and people began to realize
that here was "a virtuoso with a difference."

In 1917 he succeeded Henri Marteau (1874-1934),
the distinguished French violinist and composer, as
professor of the violin at the Geneva Conservatoire,
and stayed there seven years, during which time he was
frequently engaged as soloist for the Nikisch concerts
In Berlin and important musical events in almost all
the other capitals of Europe, including Paris, Brussels,
Budapest, Bucharest, Stockholm, Madrid, Amsterdam,
etc. At these he played under most of the greatest
conductors of the day.

He was still In Geneva when Leopold Stokowski,
conductor of the famous Philadelphia Orchestra, became

JOSEPH SZIGETI 169

interested in him, having heard highly complimentary
reports of his playing, and invited him to make a concert
tour of the United States. Szigeti accepted, and made
his American debut with that eminent conductor and
his orchestra at Philadelphia in the autumn of 1925.
Then he went on to win fresh laurels in New York,
where he was well received, but owing to his peculiar
style of playing, without evoking the somewhat hysterical
enthusiasm that was then being lavished upon one or
two of the more popular violinists. His reserved and
scholarly manner did not appeal to the popular
journalists, for instance, so he did not get any of those
splashy "write-ups" that tend to stampede the public
in the direction of the box-office. The better critics,
on the other hand, wrote most appreciatively of his
performance, drawing attention to the different phases
of his artistry that were revealed as he changed from
one type of music to another. (His programme had
consisted of works by Tartini, Bach, Mozart, Bloch,
Prokofiev, Veracini, Dvorak, Kreisler and Paganini.)

So Szigeti built up his reputation as a scholarly
violinist, and was content to rise slowly upon the good-
will of the discriminating musician. By 1930 he was
world-famous, having given recitals in almost every
country of importance and been decorated by the
French Government, who appointed him to the Legion
of Honour, a rare award to a foreign musician.

During the next few years he went twice round the
world giving concerts at hundreds of musical centres.
Frequent visits were made to the Far East and over a
dozen to the Soviet Union. In England it was probably
his playing of Sir Hamilton Harty's Concerto (which
was dedicated to him) that first established him, and
he was soon to play under all our great conductors.
Sir Henry J. Wood and Sir Thomas Bcecham both
recognized his unusual merits.

Many a music-lover will remember the recitals

170 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

Szigeti gave with Melba and John McCormack, but
now his frequent visits here and excellent broadcasts
have won him a greater public than ever before.

During the Second World War he maintained his
musical activities, but had one or two narrow escapes,
as, for instance, when he gave up his reservation on an
air-liner to an officer in the American Army. The 'plane
crashed and all its passengers were killed.

Szigeti is one of the most interesting personalities
in music to-day: he is full of ideas and his interpretations
are always interesting: many a time has he revealed
some new beauty in a work that has always been over-
looked by the majority of violinists, while his perform-
ances are invariably stimulating. His readings are
sometimes quite unusual, and have even caused surprise
in the past, but there is always a well-reasoned
explanation whenever he diverges from tradition.

Nothing pleases Szigeti more than to give a recital
in which he can introduce his audience to something
new, or revive some work that has been unwarrantably
neglected. To give a list of all such works would be
impossible here, but it is worth mentioning that many
contemporary composers have shown their esteem by
dedicating new works to him, notably Bartok (Rhapsody
for violin and orchestra, and the Rhapsody for violin,
clarinet and piano), Bloch (Nuit exotique), Ysaye (violin
sonata), and Prokofiev (Sonata in D major). The last-
named was first performed in England by Szigeti on
25 August 1946.

Programme-building is an art in which Szigeti has
few rivals: he spends a great deal of time in choosing
his pieces, and arranges them in his programmes not
merely in chronological order, as many artists do, but
with special consideration for their mood and density.
He believes that the order in which half-a-dozen pieces
are played can be just as important as the manner in
which an artist would display the same number of

EFREM ZIMBALIST

ON

* C/3

I

RAYMOND COHEN

JOSEPH SZIGETI 171

paintings upon a wall. Young violinists, especially,
are apt to overlook the fact that a piece of music can
be "killed 53 by an ill-chosen work immediately following
it, just as the effect of a picture can be utterly spoilt
by having an incongruous painting at its side. The
dominant work of a programme should be preceded
by pieces that lead up to it in a suitable manner. Now
that audiences are becoming more discriminating and
sensitive these seemingly unimportant details should
never be overlooked.

His repertoire is enormous, and includes an imposing
list of modern works as well as many of the best classics.
When Bloch wrote his violin concerto he was insistent
that Szigeti should give the first performance of it,
because he felt that in the hands of this fine artist it
would certainly receive sympathetic treatment. Szigeti
gave the first European performance of this work on
9 March 1947 at a Philharmonic Concert under Sir
Thomas Beecham.

Prokofiev has always regarded Szigeti as his finest
interpreter, and Bartok used to speak very highly of his
readings. It would, however, be wrong to imagine that
SzigetFs style is suited only to modern works, for it is
readily adaptable to any style of composition. Although
he is so successful with modern music he does not believe
in specialization, which, he feels, is bound to limit
one's artistic faculties, and when one hears him playing,
say, the Brahms Concerto (of which he has given well
over 150 performances) one realizes that he does not
attempt to stamp it with his own style. He plays this
concerto with an understanding that reveals a deep
insight into the spirit of the work. He is not interested
in sdf-glorification

Similarly, although no violinist could have more
up-to-date ideas about Iris art, he freely acknowledges
that he has never forgotten the inspiration he received as
a boy finom the playing of Joachim. He has the greatest
respect for tradition, but does not make a fetish of it,

172 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

He is said to possess "the most elegant right arm
of living violinists", and listeners will probably have
observed that he keeps it closer to his body than most
violinists do to-day. Some teachers would severely criticize
this, but it does not prevent him from achieving a wonder-
ful elasticity. His left hand is amazingly accurate. The
steely strength and smoothness of his style is particularly
enjoyable in Bach: one cannot help feeling that the
great organist would have beamed with joy if he could
have heard SzigetTs delightfully clean playing of his
works.

The recordings he has made for Columbia include
the Beethoven Concerto with the British Symphony
Orchestra conducted by Bruno Walter; the Brahms
Concerto with the Halle Orchestra under Sir Hamilton
Harty; and with the London Philharmonic Orchestra
conducted by Sir Thomas Beecham, the Mendelssohn,
Prokofiev and Mozart No. 4 concertos. With Carl
Flesch he also recorded the Bach D minor Concerto
for two violins accompanied by an orchestra under
Walter Goehr.

Szigeti is tall and slim, and is never troubled by
"nerves". He advises young violinists to do no more
than two hours' practice a day but that must be really
intensive and intelligent practice. This period of work
should be preceded by mental preparation of the
music to be played, for it is useless to start the
"mechanics" of playing until one has a complete
mental impression of the work. Diligent study of the
music before the fiddle is taken in hand is one of the
secrets of great artistry. One's style must of course be
adapted to the type of work one is attempting: nobody
plays Bach as they would Tchaikovsky, but people are
less clear about the differences between other types of
composer.

He would remind ambitious young violinists that
the life of the virtuoso is not an easy one, and because

JOSEPH SZIGETI 173

one often has to rehearse in an Icy-cold hall immediately
upon arrival and without the sustenance of even a light
meal beforehand, he recommends that students should
make a habit of rising at six o'clock, even on winter
mornings, and practising for an hour before break-
fast!

As one would imagine, he is a man of intellect, and
can converse upon many subjects other than music.
He is interested in science, art and literature, and reads
a great deal, believing that a good background of general
culture is indispensable to any musician. Too many
musicians reveal in their playing that they are men of
sadly limited interests, men with one-track minds whose
knowledge of life is pitifully small. He is rarely bored:
even the enormous amount of travelling he is compelled
to do is a source of interest and enlightenment to him.
The true artist, he believes, must know something of
the world beyond his own little sphere.

Szigeti is a great conversationalist, and can be
extremely witty. He loves good company, and is never
supercilious. Good dance music is always pleasant to
him, and he has no snobbish feelings towards those who
play it. When he wanted a really competent clarinettist
to share with him the honour of giving the first perform-
ance of Bartok's Rhapsody for clarinet, violin and
piano he had no hesitation in choosing Benny Goodman,
despite this able musician's reputation as a dance-band
leader.

He is fond of cricket and takes an interest in a
variety of sports, believing that they have a cultural
value.

His recently-completed autobiography, With Strings
Attached^ has been published in New York by Knopf,
but up to the time of writing has not yet appeared in
this country. We are told that he wrote it a the hard
way", that is, with neither secretary nor typewriter,
chiefly in railway coaches. It is an absorbing collection
of reminiscences that provide sidelights upon such

174 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

diverse personalities as Stravinsky, Bartok, Duke Elling-
ton, Thomas Mann, Benny Goodman, Albert Einstein,
etc., and is rich in anecdote. He recalls the "indolent,
languorous grace" of Melba's singing, the Wanamaker
concerts by selected players using instruments from the
famed collection, the amusing sight of Goldmark
patiently soaking the stamps off return envelopes sent
hopefully by autograph hunters doomed to disappoint-
ment, and those words written to him by Busoni:
"May your art satisfy you: others will rejoice in it, but
the former is the more important."

JACQUES THIBAUD

THIS eminent virtuoso is generally regarded as the
great master of the French school of violin playing, and
has appropriately been described as "a Parisian to his
fingertips".

He was born at Bordeaux on 27 September 1880,
son of a local violinist and teacher of music. Being
unduly sensitive to music he was by far the keenest of
his father's pupils. His father was very anxious that
he should distinguish himself as a pianist and accordingly
kept the lad at the keyboard until he was seven years
old. Then, however, his course in music was changed,
for he was taken to a symphony concert and heard
the Beethoven Violin Concerto for the first time. It was
an experience so moving that before the end of the
work he was in tears : never before had a musical instru-
ment spoken to him with such feeling. He went home
carrying a vivid impression of the soloist in his mind,
and resolved that somehow he, too, would play the
violin in that manner.

Seeing that his son had fallen in love with the
violin, the wise music teacher raised no objection to
his new ambition; indeed, he gave him every encourage-
ment, and within two years he had become quite an
accomplished little violinist. At about this time, when
he was nine years old, Eugene Ysaye heard him play
and spoke very highly of Ms talent.

Nothing very startling was to happen during the
next four years, however, and at the age of thirteen or
fourteen he entered the Paris Conservatoire to become

175

176 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

a pupil of Marsick (1848-1924, a pupil of Joachim).
After two years with this Belgian violinist he won the
first prize for his instrument.

Although he was by then an excellent violinist, no
great opportunity came his way, and for two or three
years he was obliged to earn his living by accepting
quite humble engagements: in a cafe in the Latin
Quarter of Paris, for instance, and at the Concert
Rouge. It might be added that he never regretted
this experience as a rank-and-file musician.

When he was about seventeen he was offered a
place in the famous Colonne Orchestra, and came to the
notice of Edouard Golonne himself, who kindly offered
to give him further lessons. Under the guidance of
this able musician he made further progress, and the
opportunity for which he had waited came at last on a
Sunday when the leader of the orchestra happened to
be taken ill. Thibaud was delighted when he was asked
to fill the man's place, and as luck would have it, the
programme included the Saint-Saens Prelude to The
Deluge, which contains a fine violin solo. In this Thibaud
made such a good impression that immediately after the
concert he received an engagement as a soloist. Within
a little while he was so heavily booked-up for solo work
that he was obliged to resign his orchestral appointment.

His debut as a soloist was at the annual festival at
Anger, in 1898, and during the following season he
made well over fifty appearances supported by the
Golonne Orchestra. After this he simply leapt to fame,
as one may gather from the statement made by Ysaye,
who watched his career with the greatest interest:
"There are two violinists from whose playing I can
always be certain of learning something. They are
Kreisler and Thibaud."

Tours of France, England, Belgium, Germany,
Italy, Holland and other European countries, put
his name on the lips of many millions of music lovers,
and in 1903 he made his first visit to the United States.

JACQUES THIBAUD 177

His American debut was made in New York with the
Wetzler Orchestra, and he won high praise in the
concertos of Mozart and Saint-Saens.

Like most Frenchmen, Thibaud is a strong patriot
at heart despite the cosmopolitan feeling that the
travelling virtuoso is bound to acquire in time, and he
was proud to serve his country during the Great War,
With the French Army he spent nearly two years in
the front lines, and was in action at Ypres, Champagne,.
Marne, Aisne, Arras and Verdun, After being wounded
fortunately not too seriously he was taken to
hospital and afterwards discharged.

Resuming his life as a touring virtuoso he soon found
himself going further and further afield, and some idea
of his travels may be gained from the fact that between
the two world wars he visited such countries as China
and Japan, India, South America and a dozen others.
It should be noted, however, that during the Nazi
regime he repeatedly refused to play in Germany.
Many of his finest recitals have been given with his
two brothers: Francis, a 'cellist of great merit, and
Joseph, a masterly pianist.

During the Second World War he spent much of
his time in writing his memoirs, and he also became a
member of the French Intelligence Service because his
knowledge of high-ranking persons in almost every
country of the world proved to be of the utmost value,

Thibaud possesses an exquisite Pique which formerly
belonged to Ysaye, and also plays upon a Vuillaume:
a reproduction of "Le Messie". His finest instrument,
however, is the superb 1709 Strad that was formerly
used by another distinguished French violinist, Pierre
Baillot (1771-1842).

His playing is remarkable for several outstanding
qualities. The tone, for instance, is warm and mellow,
yet of the utmost purity: he never indulges in that type
of emotional playing that borders upon vulgarity. His

178 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

bowing is supremely graceful. As one would imagine,
he excels in the interpretation of French music he has
always made a speciality of it but his playing of
Bach, Mozart and Beethoven leaves little to be desired.
Speaking generally, he seems more at home in highly-
coloured works the Saint-Saens B minor Concerto,
for instance and those who heard him in London in
the spring of 1945 will agree that his style is eminently
suited to such works as Chausson's Poeme and Lalo's
Symphonic Espagnole. A point of interest is that Thibaud
always likes to concentrate in silence upon the music
he is to play for at least fifteen minutes before a conceit.
He is a very temperamental musician and even a slight
disturbance can distract his attention, but "nerves" do
not worry him.

He attaches great importance to the social value
of music, and he believes that music has a special
mission to take people's minds off the perplexities and
sorrows of everyday life. For that reason he finds it
difficult to be patient with those who insist that the
chief purpose of modern music is to depict the ugliness
and harshness of life to-day. People don't want to have
their miseries and worries reflected in music: they
want to get away from them.

Like Elman, Thibaud feels that one should not
approach music in the critical frame of mind: it is a
great mistake to go to a concert with the intention of
finding fault and displaying one's "sensitivity" to
imperfections as some people like to do. He has often
sat in the audience when some well-meaning but
not-too-well-accomplished musician has done his best
to interpret a difficult work and been greatly irritated
by the comments of "superior" people who find a
fiendish joy in pouncing upon the slightest fault. They
make no real effort to appreciate the music at all.
Incidentally, artists of the standing of Thibaud, Heifetz,
and so forth, are not flattered by the attendance of
those who go to their concerts merely because their

JAQUES THIBAUD 179

technique is supposed to be flawless. Thibaud believes
that the true music-lover is one who goes to a concert
in a mood conducive to the understanding of the music
he is about to hear. An experienced musician can sense
that mood quite easily and is more likely to give of his
best than if he feels he is being regarded merely as a sort
of wizard who has come to dazzle his audience with
musical gymnastics.

Thibaud's great interest in chamber music is well
known, and some of his finest recordings are those in
which he joins with other distinguished artists in the
performance of classical trios. There is, for instance,
the Beethoven Trio in B-flat, Opus 97 (The Arch-Duke)
in which he can be heard with Gortot and Casals, and
with the same artists he has recorded the Haydn Trio
in G major and the Schubert Trio No. I in B-flat 3 Opus
99. These three are H.M.V. recordings.

MARIE WILSON

IN a north-country coal-pit during the "eighties"
there worked a lad of seventeen or eighteen whose one
great desire in life was to become a professional
musician. He had decided talent of that there was no
doubt but conditions in the coal mining areas in those
days offered little encouragement to those who wished
to practise an ait as a livelihood. Life was grim; but
so was the determination of this ambitious youth.
Hours were long very long indeed if judged by modern
standards and the work was utterly exhausting; yet
this young man would go home and practise his fiddle
hour after hour, often working into the early hours of
the morning. Eventually, his perseverance was re-
warded, and in due course he was able to come to London
as a rank-and-file musician.

Having started somewhat later than usual, Wilson
for that was his name saw that the chances of his
fulfilling his ambition to become a solo artist were
remote indeed, and as the years slipped by he became
content to lead a life that had become agreeable to
him: playing in the orchestras of London theatres.
For many years he was the leader of the Gaiety
Theatre orchestra.

In 1903 his wife bore him a daughter, Marie, and
during the next few years he became more and more
gratified to observe that his child had inherited his
love of music. In time, too, it became evident that she
was unusually gifted, for she began playing the violin
with remarkable facility.

180

MARIE WILSON 181

Believing that his daughter could succeed where he
had failed; that she could reach the goal that was now
too distant an objective for himself, he devoted several
hours every day to her instruction. But a difficulty
arose almost immediately. Like many a gifted child,
Marie was restless and did not take kindly to the
drudgery of practising on her fiddle for three or four
hours a day. There were times when she loved the
streams of melody that could be drawn from her
instrument, but others when the wearisome playing
of scales for hour after hour made her positively loathe
the violin and everything connected with it. She had
a will of her own, but so had her father, and being a
man who had become accustomed to hard work, he
was not going to let his daughter fritter away her time,
so Marie had to do her daily practice whether she liked
it or not.

It must have been when she was about six years
old that she was given her first opportunity to play in

Eublic. She was not at all excited at the prospect, and
er parents began to wonder what sort of inducement
they could offer to make her work diligently for the
event. At last her mother hit upon an idea that was to
prove extremely useful during the ensuing years.
Marie's interest in music had always taken second place to
her love of good food, so her mother pointed out that at the
concert there would be refreshments during the interval.
"Refreshments?" the child echoed, her mind conjur-
ing up visions of iced cakes. There was now a new light
of understanding in her eyes, "Oh, well then, perhaps
it will be worth while. . . .**

It so happened that Marie had to play the item
immediately before the interval. This she did, with
exceptional skill, but scarcely had the sound of the last
note left her instrument than with but a perfoectoy
nod to the audience for their generous applause she
dashed from the stage with the words: "Now, Mum,
where are those refreshments? . . .**

182 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

For years afterwards, her parents found that the
easiest way to make Marie work for a concert was to
assure her that the catering arrangements were in good
hands.

Marie Wilson went to the Royal College of Music
when she was fifteen, and three years later, while still
a student, she became a member of the Queen's Hall
Orchestra under the late Sir Henry Wood. This engage-
ment w r as most welcome, not only because she had to
help support her father, who was rapidly becoming a
chronic invalid, but because few women had won places
in the ranks of the leading professional orchestras in
those days, and her achievement at such an early age
was, to say the least, very encouraging. Thus, as a pupil
of Maurice Sons (1857-1942, pupil of Wieniawski) at
the College, and as a member of an orchestra under
Sir Henry Wood's personal guidance, she received as
good a musical education as any violinist in this country
could desire.

In those days the early nineteen-twenties she
also formed a string quartet which did particularly
good work for the BBC during the first few years of
broadcasting. Her time was then occupied with an
amazingly full programme of concerts, recitals, broad-
casts and recordings; so full, in fact, that in 1925 the
demand for solo work had become so pressing that she
was obliged to give up the Queen's Hall Orchestra.

The next four years saw her working chiefly as a
soloist, and making an excellent reputation as such,
but during 1929 the BBC approached her several times
with a request that she should join the fine new symphony
orchestra that the Corporation was about to assemble.
She refused at least twice, but the temptation of a
regular salary instead of the fluctuating income from
solo work, and the news that some of the finest orchestral
players in the world were entering this new orchestra
eventually made her decide to accept the offer, and with
some reluctance she gave up a substantial part of her

MARIE WILSON 183

solo work. She actually joined the BBC Symphony
Orchestra in 1930, the year in which it was consolidated.

From being a rising young soloist, Marie Wilson
became " without doubt the greatest woman orchestral
player in the world". Those are Sir Adrian Boult's
words, and are an apt tribute to this excellent violinist.
After the resignation of the late Arthur Catterall (1883-
1943) she became sub-leader to Paul Beard in the full
ensemble, and leader of Section G.

To give an account of all the fine concerts, the
wonderful tours and other experiences she enjoyed
during those years as an orchestral player would take
at least fifty pages, so little more can be said than a few
passing words. Her popularity in the orchestra was no
doubt due not only to her outstanding ability but to
her sense of humour and "heartiness" generally.
Everybody liked her. She took in good part, and even
revelled in, the coarse little nickname (which shall not
be repeated here) that referred to her enormous
appetite! When the orchestra was on tour most of its
members always upheld the musicians' tradition of
washing down good music with good ale at a local
tavern. Marie Wilson has never been very fond of
strong drink, and would generally accompany them only
if they could assure her that the "local" was one of
those more hospitable places where "snacks at the
counter" were available. Otherwise she would go off
on her own, or with some other like-minded member,
in search of a good restaurant ... or two.

Another recognition of her achievements came IB
1936 when she was made a professor at the Royal
College of Music. She still holds this appointment,
and takes the keenest interest in the various young
students entrusted to her.

In October 1944 Marie Wilson left the BBC
Symphony Orchestra in order to devote herself once
again entirely to solo work. She did so not withoot
regret, for her years in that ensemble had been very

184 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

happy ones, but it had become most difficult to fit in
her solo engagements with the orchestra's timetable, and
to have stayed with the BBC would probably have
meant spending the rest of her life as an orchestral
player. One of her first engagements after this decision
had been put into effect was to broadcast the Bax
violin concerto. Some idea of the impression she made
may be gained from a letter she received from the
composer himself a few days later. In this, Sir Arnold
says: "All my gratitude for your lovely performance
of my concerto last night. All your tempi are exactly
right remarkably so. It was perfect, and I hope I
may hear you play it many times in future."

During the past three years or so, Marie Wilson
has built up an enviable reputation in concerto and
sonata work. She is essentially a classical violinist,
and readily acknowledges her allegiance to the "purist"
school of thought. She does not care for the "pretty"
style of playing. Her scholarly readings of Mozart
(especially the Concerto in A) and of the Beethoven
Concerto suggest that she has a deep feeling for the
works of these two composers. Her Bach, too, is
excellent, particularly in Concertos Nos. i in A minor,
2 in E, and 3 in D minor for two violins.

She takes a great interest in modern music, and her
repertoire includes concertos by Bloch, Bruch, Delius,
Vaughan Williams, Miaskovski and Prokofiev, as well
as the Bax Concerto. Mention might also be made
of the Brahms, Mendelssohn, DvoMk, Glazounov and
Saint-Saens (No. 3) concertos, all of which appeal
strongly to her.

Marie Wilson's style is invariably good sensitive
and assured and she gets a very beautiful tone from
her Guadagnini. Her cantabile is always an outstanding
feature of her playing, due, no doubt, to her fine sense
of phrasing, a quality that is often insufficiently ap-
preciated. She is one of those who prefer to keep to
the old-fashioned gut A string, but uses an aluminium-

MARIE WILSON 185

covered D and the conventional silver-covered G. On
the bow she uses all four fingers, lifting the little finger
for spiccato, but does not believe that there need be any
definite rule on the holding of the bow; it should be a
matter of personal expedience. Of the eminent violinists
she particularly admires, Ginette Neveu, Milstein
and Heifetz are perhaps the most outstanding. Her
experience of playing under eminent conductors has,
of course, been extensive and beneficial, and she is
especially grateful for the great work of the late Sir
Henry Wood. Of the others, she esteems Sir Adrian
Boult for his scholarship, Sir Malcolm Sargent for his
vitality and love of hard work, Koussevitzky as a great
trainer, and Toscanini for sheer genius. There are, of
course, others for whom she has respect, but this is not
the place for a critical survey of orchestral conductors.

Miss Wilson is very impressed by the amount of
talent there is to-day among students of the violin:
some of them seem to possess exceptional gifts as far
as technique is concerned. This is not only in London:
she was adjudicating at a festival in the provinces
recently and found tike same promise there, In spite
of the pessimistic statements made from time to time
by other prominent violinists, Miss Wilson feels that
there are more opportunities for talented youth to-day
than there were twenty or thirty years ago. Her chief
concern is that although the general standard of playing
is very high among students and amateurs, so many
of them are guilty of lapses into bad intonation. She
feds that this can best be remedied in the daily scale
practice (she is a firm believer in regular daily practice)
by thoughtful playing. It is useless to rip off scales without
listening attentively to the sounds one produces.

To the young violinist she says: "listen carefully to
the playing of the great virtuosi, but do not copy the
style of any one of them slavishly: it is better to ta&e
the best attributes of all and to mould your own
upon them.

186 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

Miss Wilson is a great believer in the "slow practice"
method, and considers that sessions of an hour or an
hour-and-a-half are quite long enough. Full-time
students should arrange their work in sessions of this
length and allow themselves to relax completely in
the intervening periods. They should also remember
the importance of maintaining a good physique: the
performance of music is a most exacting and fatiguing
occupation, and it cannot be done properly by those
who feel tired most of the time. Late nights, if indulged
in more than once or twice a week, can spoil the work
of even the most gifted performer.

In her own career, she has found that her English
name has been the greatest obstacle to popular success.
English audiences are still influenced by foreign-sounding
names, despite the fine achievements of British artists
and composers during the past four or five decades.

Miss Wilson is absolutely free of affectation : she has
no use whatever for musical snobbery. On two or three
occasions she has taken part in light music performances,
and quite enjoyed them. Some time ago she appeared
in a variety programme at Douglas, Isle of Man, with
Issy Bonn, and, incidentally, drew one of the greatest
audiences she had ever known. She is a keen radio
listener, enjoying not only the music but plays and such
programmes as "Ignorance is Bliss" and "Merry-go-
round". Dance music, if it is well played, always
appeals to her, and she has a particular liking for
rumbas if the rhythm is good. She can always enjoy
an evening at the theatre or a good book by her fireside.
Her literary taste is for such authors as Jane Austen >
Dickens, Hugh Walpole and John Galsworthy, though
you will also find a selection of thrillers stuffed in odd
corners of her bookshelves.

But if she were asked what subject, apart from music >
was foremost in her mind, she would reply promptly
and candidly: "Food". It is a standing joke enjoyed
by herself as much as by her friends. She believes

MARIE WILSON 187

wholeheartedly in the value of good, nourishing food
prepared in an appetizing manner. In the kitchen she
is quite a genius, in fact her friends declare that she could
probably earn as much practising the culinary art in
a West End restaurant as she can wielding the bow in
the concert hall. Sooner or later one of our enterprising
young composers will probably write a rhapsody about
Marie Wilson's cakes.

EFREM ZIMBALIST

OUR last sketch is of a celebrated artist who in this
country is rather less known to-day than most of the
other world-famous violinists: Efrem Zimbalist.

He was born at Rostov-on-Don in April 1889,
son of Alexander Zimbalist an orchestral conductor
who gave him a good grounding in music. The first
fourteen years of his life were more or less uneventful,
though even as a boy he was such a reliable little violinist
that at the age of nine he was allowed to lead the
orchestra in the opera house at Rostov. In 1903 he
entered the St. Petersburg Conservatoire and had the
honour of studying under the great Leopold Auer. His
studentship at this famous academy, in the company of
many others who were later to rise to world-wide fame,
was brilliant in every way, and nobody was surprised
when he won the coveted gold medal and the Rubinstein
scholarship of 1,200 roubles.

Most of his early triumphs took place beyond the
borders of his native land. He made his first appearance
in Germany at a Berlin concert on 7 November 1907
and gave a sensational rendering of the Brahms Concerto.
Two months later he was in London, and it is interesting
to turn back the pages of history, as it were, and see
what the Musical Times had to say about his debut
here on 9 December. The following extract is from the
January (1908) issue of that journal :

"A fellow student of Mischa Elman under
Professor Auer, and styling himself 'Zimbalist', made
his first appearance in London on December gth at

188

EFREM ZIMBALIST 189

Queen's Hall. The newcomer, stated to be only
fourteen 1 years of age, possesses musical talent and
executive facility extraordinary for his years, even in
these days of youthful precocity. Supported by the
London Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Mr.
Landon Ronald, he played the solo part of Tchaikov-
sky's Violin Concerto with such firmness and brilliancy
as to excite enthusiastic applause. He was heard to
greater advantage, however, in Lalo's Symphonic
Espagnole, a work that seemed to be more within the
range of his expressive powers. That Zimbalist will
become an artist of the first rank there can be little
doubt."

After a prolonged tour of European countries that
lasted nearly three years, Zimbalist made his debut in
America with the Boston Symphony Orchestra on
27 October 1911. His success was instantaneous:
rarely had the Glazounov Concerto been played in
such a rich, colourful manner. Everybody marvelled
at his glorious tone, his exquisite cantilena and faultless
technique, so it was not surprising that offers of other
engagements were showered upon him for months
afterwards.

During the next two or three decades he was to go
to all corners of the earth. His concert tours have taken
him well over a million miles an average of more than
30,000 a year. Typical of the longer tours is the one
he made some years ago when he went from America
to Australia, then turned northwards and went right
through Japan, returned to Australia by another route,
and then did a seemingly endless tour of most of the
European countries. He has made no less titan six
tours of the Far East, and in the days when the Emperor
of Japan was regarded as a deity he was accorded tbe
rare privilege of hearing the Imperial Orchestra* Only
two or three other visitors from the Western Hemisphere
had thus been honoured.
1 This is Incorrect of course.

190 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

Zimbalisfs first marriage, which took place in
London on 15 June 1914, was to Alma Gluck, the
eminent soprano singer, who frequently toured with
him. Shortly afterwards she gave up her career entirely
to devote herself to her husband and home. They had
two children: Maria (now Mrs. Henry F. Bennett,
Jnr.) and Efrem.

After the death of Alma Gluck, Zimbalist married
Mary Louise Curtis Bok in 1943. Mrs. Bok was the
widow of Edward E. Bok, who won the Pulitzer Prize
for his book The Americanization of Edward Bok. He
founded the famous Curtis Institute of Music, Philadel-
phia, of which Zimbalist has been the Director since
1941, having joined its faculty in 1928.

The outstanding qualities of Zimbalist's playing
are his superb, rich tone, which is astonishingly powerful
at times yet never seems to be forced, and his incredible
technique, which according to one critic is "as near
perfect as any human violinist is likely to get." He plays
with very great feeling, but always remains well poised
and seems to keep surprisingly cool. He does not
indulge in musical extravagance, and has no airs and
graces.

Zimbalist has composed quite a lot of music,
including songs and piano music as well as pieces for
the violin. His orchestral compositions include a
concert phantasy on Rimsky-Korsakov's Cog d'or;
American Rhapsody; a tone poem entitled Portrait of an
Artist which was first performed by the Philadelphia
Orchestra on 7 December 1945; and a Concerto in
C-sharp minor for violin and orchestra, first played in
public on 28 November 1947, by the composer with
the Philadelphia Orchestra under Eugene Ormandy.
He has also written an effective Sonata in G minor
for violin and piano, a String Quartet in E minor, and
a suite of Spanish dances called Sarasateana.

He has always specialized in modern music, and
many of our twentieth-century composers have reason

EFREM ZIMBALIST 191

to feel grateful to him for introducing their work to
the pubKc ; A substantial part of his spare time is spent
in^ examining new works of living composers, and few
things give him more pleasure than to announce his
discovery of a really promising work from some young
composer who is struggling to achieve recognition.
Among the many new works he has introduced are the
concertos of Ernest Schelling, Frederick Stock, John
Powell, Albert Spalding and Tor Aulin. During the
1947-8 season he gave an important series of historical
violin recitals in New York City.

A genial personality, modest in the extreme, and
a great wit, Zimbalist loves good company, and his
friends say that he will throw a party at the slightest
provocation. He enjoys good vintage wines and is
a connoisseur of cigars, much to the delight of those
who have the honour of joining him for an evening's
chamber music, for he is always most generous, and
consequently there is something of a fifty-thousand-a-
year atmosphere about the place by the end of the
evening. Such hospitality does not bear thinking
about in this land of austerity. An evening with
Zimbalist generally concludes with bridge or poker,
* but unless you are an exceptionally good player it is
better to think of some ingenious excuse for an early
departure.

During the greater part of his life Zimbalist has been
an incorrigible collector. When on his world-wide
tours he spent most of his spare time scouring old book-
shops and antique dealers' showrooms, and had some
remarkable * 'finds" less in recent years, perhaps,
owing to the growing astuteness of the gentlemen who
run those establishments. His library of precious first
editions and manuscripts became so large a few years
ago that he was compelled to sell part of it by auction.

He also acquired one of the finest collections of
violins in the world, but has now sold most of these

192 VIOLINISTS OF TO-DAY

historic instruments; one of the exceptions being his
famous "Titian" Stradivarius, which some authorities
consider to be the most lovely-toned fiddle in existence.
Another of his hobbies was the collecting of what
he calls Orientalia, and for many years he specialized
in ancient Japanese medicine cases and Chinese snuff
bottles. Most forms of Eastern art appeal strongly to
him, and any visitor to his home would discover
specimens of such works that amply justify his enthusiasm
for the art treasures of the Orient.

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