Debut recital discs seldom engender such a positive impression as this offering from the young Japanese violinist, Kyoko Takezawa. In a welcome respite from the accepted compilation of standard virtuoso fare, playing of exceptional quality is the vehicle for an innovative and challenging programme of unusual variety. Kyoko Takezawa took the Gold Medal at the 1986 Indianapolis Quadrennial Violin Competition three years before completing her studies under Dorothy DeLay at the Juilliard School. Brave indeed is the artist who elects to begin a recital with the Sonata for solo violin by Bartok. Takezawa's account of the work is never less than triumphant in its virtuosity and commitment, and her playing has greater idiomatic refinement than similar recent interpretations from Christian Tetzlaff (Virgin Classics) and Kurt Nikkanen (Collins Classics). I am aware of only one comparable performance, from Viktoria Mullova (Philips), which eclipses this newcomer, and then only marginally in areas of compulsion and temperamental affinity with the work; that much said, I should be happy to purchase this release on the strength of Takezawa's Bartok alone.
For the remainder of her programme Takezawa is joined by Phillip Moll, a discreet, yet totally supportive accompanist. Tchaikovsky's Meditation was originally conceived as the central movement of the Violin Concerto and like the Valse-scherzo the work is dedicated to Yosef Kotek, whose enthusiasm and advice had greatly encouraged the composer. The performances here are very fine, the Meditation affecting and regretful, with zestful humour and bravura accorded to the Valse-scherzo. Paul Kochanski's transcription of de Falla's Suite populaire espagnole has rarely sounded so dazzling on disc; Takezawa's reading has an intuitive flair and compelling individuality—the ''Jota'' especially has that disarmingly spontaneous wit which, however aposite, is all too rarely encountered.
The Iberian flavour persists in Chaminade's Serenade espagnole, popularized by Fritz Kreisler, but rarely heard these days. This slender, yet naturally idiomatic work is charmingly dispatched with the kind of innocent understatement which would have endeared it to earlier audiences. Takezawa shows her true mettle once again in the final work of her programme, the Hungarian Dance No. 1 by Brahms, played with spirited resolve and a natural affinity for its content. I should stress, however, that none of the accompanied items produce quite such an enduring or convincing impression as Takezawa's defiant rendition of the Bartok Sonata, which crowns an entirely praise-worthy debut release.'