A sensitive boy, an only child, loses his mother when he is ten years old. His domineering father uproots him from his native Poland and brings him to England in 1938. He makes recordings of eight pieces of music, lasting a total of 30 minutes, at the EMI studios in 1940. He breaks down under all the pressure, refuses to play the violin in his late teens, then dies in his 20s after a failed brain operation. In the world of the early 1940s in Europe, yet another tragedy. But the boy's name was Josef Hassid, and the eight pieces of music he recorded have lived on to this day.
Hassid was a superb, natural technician -- like so many. But, listening to his playing, what makes him so special was his empathy for the music he played. He played the music from the inside, so to speak, with each note speaking personally to him. His playing of Sarasate's Playera, and of Joseph Achron's Hebrew Melody almost bring shivers down the spine, as if listening to playing from beyond the grave.
I have cherished the Hassid recordings for many decades. They have been reissued and often remastered, best up to now by the old EMI Testament label. The latest reincarnation is from a company called Parnassus, and the remasterings are the best yet. The recordings may date from 1940, but the playing lives on vividly. Of all the many losses of truly great musicians; the loss of Josef Hassid is probably one of the most tragic.
