BEETHOVEN: Complete Violin Sonatas, Vol. 1 = Sonata No. 1 in D, Op. 12, No. 1; Sonata No. 2 in A, Op. 12, No. 2; Sonata No. 3 in E-flat Major, Op. 12, No. 3; Sonata No. 4 in A Minor, Op. 23 – Joseph Fuchs, violin/Artur Balsam, piano
Naxos Historical 8.111251, 64:34 [Not distributed in the US] ****:
Once described by virtuoso Nathan Milstein as “the greatest American-trained violinist,” Joseph Fuchs (1899-1997) became a major force in American violin pedagogy and chamber music ensemble, even commissioning the Second Violin Concerto by Walter Piston. In 1952 he and Artur Balsam (1906-1994) embarked on the full Beethoven sonata series for the American Decca label (DL-150), a rare opportunity for enthusiasts to savor the elegant tone of his 1722 “Cadiz” Stradivarius when applied to the wonderful staples of the repertoire. The brisk linear directness of approach strikes us as disarmingly modern, with no trace of “romantic” rhetoric or distracting mannerisms.
The sparkling éclat of the opening D Major Sonata carries with it a freshness that consistently engages us, high intelligence focused on high art. The lightness and flexibility of touch and articulation becomes even more evident in the opening of the A Major Sonata, the bow bouncing gingerly as the musical line extends and enchants us. The stop-on-the-dime accuracy of the attacks, dynamics poised between mezzo-forte and piano, suggests the level of sheer mechanical fluency of the two principals. The vibrancy of Fuchs’s sweet tone was already legendary when he performed as concertmaster of the Cleveland Orchestra under Rodzinski. Because the softer dynamics enjoy such a sonorous projection, there is no need of either performer to thrust unnecessary volume upon the music, so the (salon) intimacy of the ensemble never suffers emotional compromise. The musical line of the “Andante: piu tosto allegretto,” fragile as it, emerges like some exquisite porcelain or jade statuary that alchemy brings to precious life. The music-box perfection of the last movement of the A Major, “Allegro piacevole,” never becomes so delicate as to rob Beethoven of his expressive force.
The E-flat Sonata, on the other hand, lifts the bravura aspect of the partnership up a notch: already Beethoven has transformed the medium favored by Mozart into a more expressive and dramatic encounter. Balsam, too, enjoys a brilliant series of runs and rhetorical flourishes that bespeak his own virtuosity. Together the duo provides us a gem in the Adagio, marked by Beethoven to be played with great expression; he does not explicitly call for “poise,” but that is exactly what Fuchs and Balsam deliver in transparent waves of sound. The buoyancy, the aerial brio, of the last movement may well have collectors favorably comparing Fuchs to Milstein himself for musical and technically impeccable execution.
With the A Minor Sonata, Beethoven enters his violin world into the sturm und drang movement, the two instruments aggressive, often in heated debate. Some commentators have mentioned “the quickness of repartee,” especially in that Beethoven utilizes a two-note motif, two legato eighth notes rising or descending by a half step. The second movement, Andante scherzoso, employs some strict counterpoint between the instruments, as though a truce had been called. Balsam displays his diaphanous trill, while Fuchs proceeds by half steps to another section of counterpoint, only a step away from the texture of a string quartet. The rather dark hue of the last movement more than points to Mendelssohn for speed and color: try the opening of Mendelssohn’s second trio, Op. 66. When the fur flies in the development of this rondo-sonata movement, hold onto your musical hats. Remastering of the original Deccas, inscribed at the Pythian Temple, New York, has been scrupulously cleaned up by Marian and Victor Ledin, an obvious labor of love.
–Gary Lemco
