María Dueñas on Homage to Heifetz

Inspired by her idol's iconic 1950s recording of Lalo’s Symphonie espagnole and Korngold’s Violin Concerto, Spanish violinist María Dueñas's Homage to Heifetz has been making waves in its own right since it was released on Deutsche Grammophon at the end of last month: the album featured as Record of the Week on Radio 3's Record Review the following day, whilst Gramophone's Rob Cowan enthused that 'her approach is full of spirit, fiery and big-boned, more like Bronisław Huberman than Heifetz I'd say (and that's paying her some compliment!).'

María spoke to Presto earlier this summer about her long-term fascination with this complicated man, the delicate art of paying homage to an inimitable artist, the uncanny experience of playing a Stradivarius which was once owed by Heifetz himself, and how a 2006 Barbie movie introduced her to her first symphony as a little girl in Spain...

When did that legendary Heifetz album come into your life?

I heard it well before I started to play the violin myself – my parents had the album at home and I still have our copy on my shelf right here! My mum used to play classical music on the drive to and from school when I was little: car windows open, opera and orchestral music blasting, everybody staring at us! But I would say that I only truly discovered that recording quite recently, when I already had both works in my repertoire – it's not like it had been on my mind since childhood, but when I revisited it from the inside I realised just how special and unique it was. 

I want each of my recordings to have a special link to some part of my life, and for this third one I was keen to represent my country in some way, so the Lalo seemed an ideal choice. Focusing on my roots got me thinking about why I started playing in the first place, and one of the biggest reasons was hearing Heifetz as a child. This album isn’t about comparing myself to Heifetz - I wouldn’t dream of it! - but about reflecting on what he left us, and especially how his legacy speaks to a younger generation of violinists at the beginning of their careers.

Did you consciously incorporate elements of that specific recording into your own interpretation of these pieces?

On an interpretative level I don’t think my recording is very similar at all  - paying homage to Heifetz is all about finding your own individual sound rather than trying to imitate his! - but the sound and character of his recording was certainly a big inspiration. As well as the musical aspects, something which struck me straight away is the sound of the recording itself. When you hear the beginning of the Korngold there’s such magic there: from the very first note you’re transported into that whole lush world of Hollywood film music. 

Of that pantheon of great twentieth-century violinists, what makes Heifetz stand out for you?

He certainly had a very special, distinctive sound, although that’s equally true of Oistrakh and Menuhin…It’s really Heifetz’s personality that’s always fascinated me, because it was quite peculiar! I feel like he reveals a very hidden part of himself in his playing, because when you watch videos of him performing (or listen to recordings of him speaking with his students) he can seem like a very cold person: he doesn’t move much, he doesn’t convey much, but then his sound is so open and warm and personal that it takes you by surprise. Cultivating that kind of honesty and character in my own playing is one of my life-goals! 

And Heifetz was so polyfaceted. Did you know that he wrote a hit pop song?! He used the pseudonym 'Jim Hoyl' so that nobody could recognise him, but it’s up there on YouTube! It was the only one he ever did, but it sold something like 300 000 copies…if I only could do that one day!

On a technical level too, it’s so refreshing to see how much freedom he allows himself: it’s the kind of playing that knows no boundaries, and there’s a special integrity about that. Heifetz didn’t care about how things were ‘supposed’ to be played – he wasn’t remotely bothered about standard bowings or fingerings, but everything he does just works for him. 

He’s such an icon in the violinist world, and I think having an idol that you can look up to is so important when you’re a young musician. That’s especially true in Spain, where classical music doesn’t have such a high profile as elsewhere in Europe: I live in Vienna now where things are very different, but I would love to think that some children back in Spain might hear my recording one day and be inspired in turn!

Going back to what you said about your Spanish roots, do you feel a special affinity with soundworld of Lalo's Symphonie espagnole?

I think so – certainly it feels very easy and natural to me. Unlike a lot of Spanish people I never learned flamenco, but when you grow up surrounded by Spanish dance, film and art you soak all of those influences up into your own playing. Spanish people also have a very particular way of appreciating the small moments in life, and I think Lalo taps into that even though he’s actually French! 

So many French composers during that period were inspired by Spain, even if they never actually went there. (That also makes me think of Agustín Lara's 'Granada', which I arranged myself: Granada is my hometown and it’s become such an important song for us because it really put us on the map, but the composer was a Mexican who never set foot in the place!). I was talking with Gustavo [Dudamel] about this when we were preparing the Lalo, and we decided it was important to keep some French flavour and elegance in the mix: the piece was written for Pablo de Sarasate, and he was such an icon that the Spanish colours come through very naturally on their own.

What's special about your working relationship with Gustavo?

We first worked together in 2020, doing a Beethoven concert at the Hollywood Bowl: this was a tough time because it was the early days of the pandemic, but the music-making flowed so effortlessly that it was very easy to keep going. Gustavo was a non-negotiable part of this project from the beginning, even before I’d decided what I wanted to record: if I was going to honour my country, I wanted to do it with him! We feel music in a very similar way and he brings this incredible motivational energy to everything he does, inviting everyone onto the same boat and making them all as excited as he is about the music! I love that he didn’t just come in and record it: he also contributed a lot emotionally.

Gustavo always remembers where he comes from, and I think it’s so important for musicians not to lose sight of their roots when their careers skyrocket – sure, we have this very cool life now but in the beginning things weren’t necessarily easy. You shouldn't forget that, and we definitely share that conviction. When I was talking to him about how special this project was for me, he suggested we should do it with El Sistema, which made it even more special for him because he was doing it with his group of young people. I don’t think any of the musicians are older than thirty: they haven't spent their whole lives sitting in an orchestra, so it still feels fresh and exciting to them and there's never any hint of routine.

Did you always concentrate on solo repertoire, or was orchestral playing a formative part of your education?

Oh yes, I grew up playing in an orchestra on a regular basis, and those were very precious moments. Granada is quite a small city and didn’t have a good orchestra back then, so my dad would drive me ninety minutes every week to play in Malaga. I also did a lot of choral singing until quite recently - I kept that going even when I went to study in Germany, because I value the energy and perspective of making music in a group. Being a soloist is wonderful but it can be lonely, and I always try to remember that communal energy when I’m practising alone!

I don’t really have time to sing much these days, but a couple of weeks ago I got to play in an orchestra for the first time in ages and I loved it! I was doing the Korngold concerto with the Toronto Symphony, and as usual I planned to stick around to hear the second half…it turned out they were playing Mendelssohn’s Italian Symphony, which was the first symphony I ever heard in my life (it was used in this Barbie movie called The 12 Dancing Princesses which I loved when I was little!). Gustavo Gimeno was conducting, and when I told him how much I loved the piece he invited me to sit at the back of the section and join in! It was such an interesting experience because I’d never sat at the back before: your eyes and ears have to be so open to catch everything. Now when I stand out front for a concerto I remember that some of the players are really far away, and you need to connect with them as well as with the section-leaders!

How did the famous 'Heifetz, Piel' Stradivarius end up in your hands for part of this recording?

It was a series of coincidences. In the lead-up to the sessions for my album I saw that the violin was going on sale through Tarisio, and I contacted their director Carlos Tomè to ask if it would be possible to have it for two days of recording. When I got hold of the instrument it felt like going back to another era: it was obviously very special from the first notes I played, but I felt like if I got to know it too well the magic would disappear!

The Strad has been played a lot since Heifetz owned it, but there was still a kind of mystery and magic about it that I didn’t want to disturb. It was even more special in the context of this album because Heifetz owned this violin when he premiered the Korngold concerto…we don’t know whether he played it for the first performance, but even getting to hold it was mind-blowing. 

I recorded all the Debussy pieces on it, except for the orchestral one (‘La fille aux cheveux de lin'); I played it for 'Estrellita' as well, which is the most iconic Heifetz piece. This violin has a very mature sound, but it isn’t as dark as most Strads: there’s depth but also a sort of brilliance which is quite rare, with a much lighter sound on the E string. Maybe I’m projecting because I know the instrument’s story, but it just feels like it’s lived through so much and is all the richer for it. Some violins haven’t been played for a long time and take a while to resurrect, but this one was very much alive and awake!