The Polish-born violinist Ida Haendel has died at the age of 91. A player who studied with Carl Flesch and George Enescu and who made her London debut under the baton of Sir Henry Wood, Haendel’s career reached back into another world. She was one of the great violinists of the last century.

In October 2018, Rob Cowan wrote an ‘Icons’ article for Gramophone which we reprint here. And below it, we offer again an interview with Haendel, conducted by Gramophone's Editor Martin Cullingford in July 2013.

Back in July 2013 at London’s Cadogan Hall I had the good fortune to conduct an onstage interview with one of the violin legends of the 20th century, Ida Haendel. Although by then in her mid-eighties, she also performed for us. Earlier on, Haendel had told me that while still a child she performed Bach for her teacher Enescu, who disappointingly made no comment either way on her playing. During that evening she tackled Enescu’s own profoundly rhapsodic Third Sonata accompanied by the Serbian pianist Misha Dacic, a reading that, although frail, was greeted by sudden flashes of expressive intensity. It was a warming experience. As I said to her at the time, ‘It seems to me that Enescu was making amends for not reacting to your Bach by bringing his own spirit to your playing of his Third Sonata.’ She enjoyed the evening, regaling us with many fond memories, not least of her work with the conductors Sergiu Celibidache and Sir Thomas Beecham.

Mastering the earth-and-fire rhetoric of Enescu’s Third has been the privilege of very few. Apart from Enescu himself, one could cite Menuhin, Ferras and, more recently, Sherban Lupu; and Haendel can for certain be admitted to their ranks, at least in principle. A late recording (1996) with Vladimir Ashkenazy (Decca), although pianistically vivid, finds her sounding thin-toned, whereas an earlier concert recording (1980) with Ronald Turini (Doremi) frees her muse to wander without hindrance from a compromised technique. As I’ve said before in these pages, whenever I tune in to Haendel on the radio without knowing who’s playing, I invariably sit transfixed until the announcer gives the game away. I am never surprised, and yet discussions about ‘great’ fiddlers on disc too often relegate her to the sidelines.

As a pupil of Carl Flesch and Enescu, she represents a golden age, but her extensive travels, her triumphs at the Proms and her ageless energy pin her as much to the new generation as to the old.

She was born in 1928 to a Polish Jewish family in Chem, and her talents came to the fore when she picked up her sister’s violin aged three. Major competition triumphs followed (including winning the 1933 Huberman prize). As to her recording career, 1940 marked its starting point (mostly short pieces), whereas five years later she recorded the Tchaikovsky Concerto (under Basil Cameron) and, two years after that, the Dvořák (the latter available on Pristine and as a download).

Coming more up to date, a pair of Testament releases of 1970s recordings attest to Haendel’s svelte, sensitively modulated playing, particularly ‘Popular Encores’ (SBT1259). Turn then to ‘Baroque Transcriptions’ (SBT1258) and you have what in my view is a genuinely great violin CD, one to place alongside those where Heifetz, Szigeti, Elman, Campoli or Aaron Rosand (to name but five) tackle similar repertoire with parallel levels of expressive generosity. With Haendel you invariably sense that ecstatic control of melodic line, that holding fast to the harmonic thread – musically, patiently and with the inimitable touch of a true craftsperson. Compare two Haendel versions of Bach’s Chaconne – one from the 1960s (live, Doremi), the other from the ’90s (Testament); while the tempos are quite similar, it’s fascinating to gauge the way in which she emphasises certain phrases on the earlier version, almost like a question and answer sequence, as compared with the marginally more classical approach of the later version.

Another interesting point of comparison concerns two recordings of the Elgar Concerto – one recorded in the studio in the 1970s (under Sir Adrian Boult), the other live in the 1980s (under Sir John Pritchard); the live version is swifter than the studio one by about six minutes. The two performances feel entirely different.

Hänssler Classic’s SWR Music released two repertory staples played with considerable poise, passion and tonal allure (CD94 205): Haendel’s impressive staccato bowing and warm, almost Elman-like tone elevates a 1960 broadcast of Tchaikovsky’s Concerto well above the norm; the coupling, a 1965 Dvořák Concerto, takes a little time to settle but the Adagio ma non troppo is gloriously played, easily a match for Suk or David Oistrakh. But although Haendel’s recording career reaches back to the shellac age, perhaps the pinnacle of her art on disc, apart from a magisterial late (1995) set of Bach solo works for Testament, are the recordings she made for Supraphon with the Czech Philharmonic and Prague Symphony orchestras. Lalo’s Symphonie espagnole enjoys biting attack and luscious tonal projection, and the Sibelius Concerto (both under Karel Ancerl) reminds us that Haendel’s interpretation of this passionate perennial elicited a fan letter from the composer himself, saying, ‘I congratulate you on the great success, but most of all I congratulate myself, that my concerto has found an interpreter of your rare standard.’ As to Wieniawski, listening to her scintillating version of his Second Concerto (also on Supraphon), we might recall that Haendel was a laureate of the first International Henryk Wieniawski Violin Competition in 1935 – she was just six years old.

To describe Haendel as a last survivor from the virtuoso old guard would seem mildly glib; similarly, to say that she’s an institution is rather like a half-hearted compliment. Better, perhaps, to praise the vibrancy of a player who ticks only those boxes that she deems it necessary to tick (not for her the ascetic manners of authentic instrument performance). She’s a true individual in every musical sense of the term. For those and other qualities, her art will forever be celebrated wherever there are listeners who know what quality violin playing is all about.

(The date of Ida Haendel's death has been updated since this article was first published.)