The Art of Violin
May 13th, 2009 Posted in movie, music | Comments Off
The latest in a series providing rare film of great musicians from the early 20th century, Bruno Monsaingeon’s exploration of the violinistic giants is full of fabulous footage, although the context in which they are placed sometimes leaves a question or two unanswered. The film is in two parts, The Devil’s Instrument focuses on technique, the physical individuality of players and the dangers of being a child prodigy. Transcending the Violin looks at (literally) fine-tuned issues such as tone colour, the instruments themselves and differences of style. Oddly, The Devil’s Instrument as a title is never explained; the reference to Paganini is brief, and you could be forgiven for thinking that ‘the devil’ in question is Heifetz, who astonished every subsequent violinist into wanting to be him and consequently may be responsible for reduced individuality among modern fiddlers. But the individuality of playing in the golden age is proved in a brilliant montage of the Mendelssohn Concerto moving seamlessly through nine very, very different great violinists.
The sequence on prodigies is moving. Some extraordinary film of the child Ricci performing with all the flair of an adult is balanced by footage of Boris Goldstein and Michael Rabin, teenagers playing perfectly, but with body and facial language betraying their broken spirits. After his nauseating introduction by a showbiz host, Rabin’s eyes scarcely lift, except once, when he glances surreptitiously at the conductor: a dark, frightening, tragic slip of a gaze, hard to forget.
Between excerpts come commentaries by Itzhak Perlman, Ivry Gitlis, Ida Haendel and Hilary Hahn. Perlman is entertaining, Haendel Insightful and Gitlis enthusiastic, but Hahn’s contributions sometimes seem ill chosen. Her remark that Kogan looks ‘panicked’ is mystifying (he doesn’t — he just has a rather strange face — and he merits deeper discussion). And she expected Ginette Neveu to look ‘graceful and feminine’ but found she wasn’t — is this helpful? That isn’t to detract from the all-too-brief film of the phenomenally Intense Neveu herself. It would have been better to include some film of Hahn playing the violin, as she could certainly prove that the golden age of the violin isn’t over yet.
Never mind — the wealth of historical film is staggering: Szigeti, Elman, Milstein, Francescatti, Thibaud and many more. Yet Monsaingeon appears to hold up Yehudi Menuhin as the peak of violinistic greatness: the film both begins and ends with him and the commentators sing his praises unreservedly. On the basis of all the extracts that have gone before, it isn’t easy to accept this implied judgement: my own feeling is that he is totally eclipsed by Oistrakh.
Finally, do try to see this on DVD. The improvement in quality of both picture and sound quality is certainly worth the increase in price.

