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He has been declared to be not inferior to Joachim in his performance of this work, though he has not so broad a tone as the latter, nor as Wieniawski. He combines Sarasate's tenderness of tone and showy technique with more manliness and sincerity than Sarasate gives.
The moment the bow touches the Stradivarius a stream of beautiful sound flows toward the hearer. A pure tone seems to me the prime quality of violin playing unfortunately, also, it is a rare quality. Sarasate's virtuosity shines and pleases and surprises the audience continually. He is distinguished, not because he plays great difficulties, but because he plays with them."
That same night when Alwyn related his day's adventure to Villiers, who heard it with the most absorbed interest, he was describing the effect of Sarasate's violin-playing, when all at once he was seized by the same curious, overpowering impression of white, lofty arches, stained windows, and jewel-like glimmerings of color, and he suddenly stopped short in the midst of his narrative.
It was a world of unbridled will, this, where the soul of Jethro Fawe had its origin; and to it his senses fled involuntarily when he put Sarasate's fiddle to his chin this Autumn evening.
"There's enough liquor in the head when the fiddle's in the hand. 'Dadia', I do not need the spirit to make the pulses go!" "As little as you like then, if you'll only play as well as you did this afternoon," Ingolby said cheerily. "I will play better," was the reply. "On Sarasate's violin well, of course." "Not only because it is Sarasate's violin, 'Kowadji'!" "Kowadji!
A sound sweet and far as the chime of angelic bells in some vast sky-tower, rang clearly through the hall over the heads of the now hushed and attentive audience and Alwyn, hearing the penetrating silveriness of those first notes that fell from Sarasate's bow, gave a quick sigh of amazement and ecstasy, such marvellous purity of tone was intoxicating to his senses, and set his nerves quivering for sheer delight in sympathetic tune.
Oh, come now, you may be a Gipsy, but that doesn't mean that you're an Egyptian or an Arab. Why Arabic why 'kowadji'?" The other shrugged his shoulders. "Who can tell I speak many languages. I do not like the Mister. It is ugly in the ear. Monsieur, signor, effendi, kowadji, they have some respect in them." "You wanted to pay me respect, eh?" "You have Sarasate's violin!"
He listened, the rich, round notes thundered through the stillness with forceful and majestic harmony; anon, wierd tones, like the passionate lament of Sarasate's "Zigeunerweisen" floated around and above him: then, a silvery chorus of young voices broke forth in solemn unison: "Kyrie Eleison! Christe Eleison! Kyrie Eleison!"
It was a world of unbridled will, this, where the soul of Jethro Fawe had its origin; and to it his senses fled involuntarily when he put Sarasate's fiddle to his chin this Autumn evening.
Oh, come now, you may be a Gipsy, but that doesn't mean that you're an Egyptian or an Arab. Why Arabic why 'kowadji'?" The other shrugged his shoulders. "Who can tell I speak many languages. I do not like the Mister. It is ugly in the ear. Monsieur, signor, effendi, kowadji, they have some respect in them." "You wanted to pay me respect, eh?" "You have Sarasate's violin!"
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