Make the music speak. When violinist Anthony Marwood, cellist Richard Lester, and pianist Susan Tomes, all members of England’s Florestan Trio, studied with esteemed Hungarian violinist Sandor Végh, they came away from the sessions with those words as a mission statement.

Violinist Marwood says, “Végh wanted to pass along to us an old European tradition that he felt was fast disappearing, which is very much about ‘speaking music,’ about going for the specific tonal colors that are appropriate, not necessarily trying to smooth everything out. He hated the idea of vibrato used to coat the theme—musical ketchup, just poured on everything. He emphasized using vibrato with great care and intention, and making sure that the real expression actually comes from the bow. That was fundamental to him and the school of playing that he was from.

“I remember one of the most impressive things about Végh’s students was they all sounded quite different from one another. He wasn’t imposing one single way of playing. It was a school of thought that was quite broadly based.

“When I worked with him, he always seemed to draw a parallel between what was happening in a particular musical passage and what might happen in nature, especially in Beethoven and Bartók. We studied with him in the wonderful International Musicians’ Seminar in Cornwall, which he founded, and when he was at a loss for words regarding what he wanted, he would go to the window and stretch his arms and say, ‘Play it like the sea,’ which was never still. There would be something in nature that would perfectly illustrate what was happening in the music.”

With a common interest in serving the music, the Florestan Trio made its debut on Hyperion Records a decade ago with Antonín Dvořák’s dark third and manic-depressive fourth piano trios (the fourth is the popular one nicknamed “Dumky”). At that time, the group had just recently formed, although pianist Susan Tomes and cellist Richard Lester had long played together as members of the piano quartet Domus, and violinist Anthony Marwood had played with that ensemble on occasion. The Florestan Trio took its name from one of Robert Schumann’s alter egos; he called himself Florestan in his positive and carefree moods (and Eusebius when he was more introspective). The dark matter of that first CD didn’t really correspond to the “Florestan” concept, but arriving this spring is a recording more in keeping with the ensemble’s name: the sunnier, lyrical first two trios of Dvořák.

In the past 10 years, the Florestan Trio has recorded almost the entire standard trio literature from Mozart through Ravel (notably absent: Tchaikovsky), and now the ensemble is venturing into rather less common fare with the two early Dvořák trios, plus a brief, heartfelt Elegy by Dvořák’s son-in-law, Josef Suk.

Marwood insists that the ensemble hasn’t put off recording this music because there’s anything unappealing about it.

“We love the early Dvořák trios,” he says. “They’re less fully formed than the later ones, but they have an abundance of ideas, which he hasn’t completely organized. He’s less concerned here with getting everything perfect than with experimenting and saying something individual. The trios are very experimental. There are some extraordinary clashes, where you have to check that you’re getting right what he’s written. The music is full of spirit and color. The challenge it presents is trying to make it work. Not every corner is easy to negotiate. You have to put your own stamp on it, interpret how you think the music would best flow.”

Marwood believes that musicians should focus more on that flow, letting the music “speak” naturally, than worry about achieving some ideal Czech performance style. “The music has already got that Czech flavor and those dance elements,” he says. “You’re influenced by it already, without having to do additional homework. And, of course, we’ve played the other trios already, and that has influenced us consciously or unconsciously. But almost everything you need is right there in the score.”

Finding answers in the score is especially important when making a recording, which fundamentally documents a composer’s work, and—although there are big arguments about this—may only secondarily document the performers’ interpretation of it. Whether composer or performer takes precedence, Marwood used to be exceptionally uncomfortable making CDs.

“When I made my first disc, I was absolutely terrified by the idea that this was going down for posterity and it was going to be fixed forever,” he admits. “I found that very inhibiting. I thought it was the most awful, awful thing. But after a while I began to relax and realize this was an opportunity to expand and create and develop. And if you have a producer you trust, as we do, then it actually can be tremendously thrilling.

“Very often it’s the process of recording that’s the most interesting part. When the CD does finally come out and everybody’s talking about it, at that point I’m already moving on, and I have mixed feelings about it, because it’s retreating into the past with every second. But you have to accept that’s the way it is, and hopefully what you’ve done is interesting enough.”

Marwood is no stranger to interesting activities. Besides his participation in the Florestan Trio—which operates a chamber festival every June at Peas-marsh in East Sussex, and has commissioned works by Peteris Vasks, Judith Weir, Sally Beamish, John Casken, and Rudi Martinus van Dijk—Marwood is artistic director of the Irish Chamber Orchestra and of the Shannon International Music Festival. He also performs regularly with the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields. In 2005, he and the Academy toured the United Kingdom in a highly acclaimed, fully staged production of Stravinsky’s A Soldier’s Tale (L’histoire du soldat), in which Marwood acted the role of the soldier as well as playing the violin part.

“I’ve never lost the desire to be an actor,” he says. “Over the last 10 years I’ve kind of been working alongside dancers and actors in various ways, and gaining more experience in performances that go beyond just music. Stravinsky’s Soldier’s Tale is such an important, wonderful piece, but the separation between the music and the drama was a little bit contrived because the soldier is a violinist, and in a fully staged production an actor would just be miming that part. I thought it would be tremendous to do both. I needed a really fantastic director, and Lawrence Evans was tremendously insightful in the way that he worked with me, because he could understand that I could draw many parallels from the way I approach music to the approach to acting. He never let me feel that I was inexperienced, and I felt quite comfortable quite quickly. It’s totally exhilarating to be playing, acting, dancing, engaging all the different elements at once.”

As if this weren’t enough, Marwood also serves as a concerto soloist; most notably, in 2005, he premiered Thomas Adès’ concerto, “Concentric Paths.”

“The divides between concerto soloist and chamber musician are somewhat artificial,” he says. “I can’t think of anything worse than pretending that it’s OK just to be a concerto soloist. How can you play the Beethoven Violin Concerto if you haven’t played the quartets? The only way for me to go forward is to exist in all these different, or not so different, areas.”

This is how a musician can not only learn Beethoven’s styles through and through, but also learn to develop his or her own style. “Imposing your will is a good thing,” Marwood declares. “Interpreting the music is part of our job. Working from the score outwards, always going back and interpreting the composer’s intentions and working outwards from there, you will gradually form an interpretation. Everyone will interpret the composer’s intentions slightly differently.

“And no matter how often you’ve played the piece, it’s always necessary to go back to the score to be alive in your performance. A great piece is so rich in great ideas, there’s a terrifying moment in a piece you’ve been playing for years when you go back and discover something you hadn’t seen before. How could you have missed it? But you did. Never be complacent, always engage the score afresh.

“Happily, that’s something each of us in the trio feels very strongly about.”