Aaron Rosand: The Early Recordings = BRAHMS: Violin Sonatas Nos. 1 & 2; BEETHOVEN: Variations on Mozart’s “Se vuol ballare,”; Rondo in G Major; 6 German Dances – Aaron Rosand, violin/ Eileen Flissler, piano – Biddulph 85021-2 (69:02, contents detailed below) (12/9/22) [Distr. by Naxos] ****:
I have had the privilege of writing liner notes for two albums devoted to American violin virtuoso Aaron Rosand (1927-2019), those of Heifetz transcriptions on the 1990 Vox label (VU 9015) and this past year, 2024, for the Rhine Classics “Aaron Rosand: In Memoriam” (RH 029). At one time virtually libeled by The New York Times as “a specialist in the arcane and overly sentimental” outdated, Romantic repertory, Rosand had been essentially ignored by the major record companies and mainstream performance venues, a consistent bias well-orchestrated by Rosand’s arch-nemesis, Isaac Stern.
Happily, much of the distorted denial of Rosand’s superb talent has been eliminated, and his immense contribution to the art of the violin stands as a major testament to a musical taste exhibiting a startling range of interest. The Vox label may well claim having established his recording career, issuing his first orchestral collaborations in 1958. The two Brahms sonatas recorded with his first wife, pianist Eileen Flissler, were taped in 1956, and the Beethoven sets of variations in 1961. Typically, the accounts of Rosand’s early recordings begins with his Vox account of the complete Beethoven violin sonatas with Flissler, but these Brahms works and Beethoven variations demonstrate his capacity to explore both mainstream repertory and the neglected aspects of Beethoven’s experimental, adventurous youth.
Rosand opens with a glowing account of the 1879 Sonata in G, the so-called “Rain” Sonata, given the debts it owes to the art-song, Regenlied, Op. 59/3. Conceived cyclically, the work perpetuates its three-note motif (on D) in each of the movements, while maintaining a decidedly autumnal mood. Another Brahms song, “Reminiscence,” the No. 4 of the Op. 59 set, interjects a nostalgia that likely reflects the sad recollections of the deceased Felix Schumann. Clara Schumann in 1889 wrote that, after a run-through with Joseph Joachim in Frankfurt, “I wish that the last movement could accompany me in my journey from here to the next world.” Rosand plays with a throaty, rich tone, though the miking becomes a bit close, and we can his fingers of the frets. The piano part emerges no less richly, despite the overly resonant Vox sonics.
The Adagio proceeds in small, motivic phrases, moving to a passionate, militant statement. The color spectrum from Rosand’s chosen instrument proves opulent, a kind of warm chestnut sensibility, especially in the double stops. The Rosand contribution is all melody, while Flissler supplies the drooping, tearful harmonies. The last movement, Allegro molto moderato, provides a rondo that derives from the Regenlied, its 16th notes nostalgic droplets. Rosand’s tempo, rather quick, does not brood sentimentally but drives forward in razor-sharp intonation, with no loss of poetic affect for its use of the slow movement material.
The so-called “Thun” Sonata in A Major of 1886 owes its lyrical vitality – and effective brevity – to the composer’s fondness for the site in Bernese Oberland, Switzerland, where he felt enamored by a youthful contralto, Hermine Spies. Rosand appears the perfect vehicle for this music’s deft balance of songfulness and virtuosity, projecting strength and delicacy, at once. Do not discount Flissler’s ingratiating poise in the opening movement, Allegro amabile, though my personal favorite pianist in this music remains Mieczyslaw Horszsowski. The wistful second movement in F, Andante tranquillo – Vivace enjoys a suave segue into its more playful, central episode. Besides the various allusions to Wagner (Meistersinger), a number of Brahms’s own songs, especially from Op. 105, and Op. 97, No. 5 Komm bald, permeate the texture, ennobling the texture with a rich ambiance. The last movement Allegretto grazioso quotes another Brahms song, Meine liebe ist gruen, Op. 63, No. 5, whose words were penned by Robert Schumann’s son Felix, who passed in 1879. The last measures of this concluding movement resound with an etched tenderness which resonates long after the double bar.
Rosand and Flissler likely pioneered the recorded explorations of Beethoven’s pre-official catalogue of violin compositions, many of which reveal a humorous, even irreverent, affection for his idol Mozart. From the opera The Marriage of Figaro, we have a plucked first voicing of “Se vuol ballare” and then its subsequent, clever variations, one of which offers a fine Flissler solo in toccata style. The eleven minutes we spend with the affectionate duo indulge us in deftly tricky and agogically active bouts of virtuosity. When Rosand soars in legato, melodic expression, the effect provokes comparison with the great ones of the violin, Kreisler and Heifetz. The relatively small Rondo in G and 6 German Dances, while generic in character, exude grace and charm in abundance, alternately bustling and gracious, the spirit dear to the Austrian and light German temperament.
The liner notes provided by Wayne Kiley conscientiously present Aaron Rosand and Eileen Flissler’s biographical and recorded history in thorough detail, a solid read. This reissue comes highly recommended.
—Gary Lemco
Aaron Rosand: The Early Recordings =
BRAHMS:
Violin Sonata No. 1 in G Major, Op.78;
Violin Sonata No. 2 in A Major, Op. 100;
BEETHOVEN:
Variations on Mozart’s “Se vuol ballare,” WoO 40;
Rondo in G Major, WoO 41;
6 German Dances, WoO 42
