Brahms:
The Duo Sonatas for Violin, Clarinet, Cello, and Piano.
Christian Tetzlaff, violin, Sabine Meyer, clarinet, Boris Pergamenschikow,
cello. Lars Vogt, piano. Three CDs (EMI Classics, 5-57524-2; 5-52525-2;
5-57526-2)
Recorded live at the 2002
Heimbach Chamber Music Festival, this three-CD set brings together four
superb artists whose traversal of all the Brahms sonatas (plus some
Schumann and Berg) combines technical and ensemble perfection with the
inspired spontaneity attainable only in live performance.
Lars Vogt, the festival's
artistic director, is a strong, empathetic partner throughout, though
the recorded balance sometimes favors the piano and exaggerates dynamic
contrasts.
Violinist Christian Tetzlaff's
beautiful, pristine, warm, instantly variable tone is incomparable.
His playing is free but controlled, his phrasing has a singing, spoken
quality, his expressiveness is deeply inward, without external effects–he
hardly even slides. He brings out the wistful, melting lyricism of the
first sonata, the poetry of the second, and the drama and passion of
the third with complete emotional involvement.
Boris Pergamenschikow's
playing of the cello sonatas is distinguished by its stately austerity
and concentrated expressiveness. His tone is dark, warm, sonorous, and
pure; his style is aristocratic, combining long, flowing lines with
leisurely phrasing and loving attention to detail. The first sonata
is somber, passionate, and serene, with enough time to make every note
count; the second movement lilts, the fugue is clear. The second sonata
goes from exuberance to mystery and courtly grace. Schumann's "Fantasy
Pieces" are lovely, but the "Romances," originally for
oboe, sound uncomfortable on the cello; unlike the Adagio and Allegro
for horn, this is surely not the composer's own transcription. A Brahms
song as an encore sings warmly.
Comparing the caressing
string tone with the cool, detached sound of the clarinet, one wishes
the recording had also included the viola versions of the clarinet sonatas.
Clarinetist Sabine Meyer is wonderful; her runs are fleet, light as
gossamer, her tone is radiant, burnished, varied in color and nuance;
she spins long phrases apparently without breathing. She projects the
ardent, brooding passion as well as the charm, elegance, serenity, and
resignation of these autumnal masterpieces beautifully. Berg's Four
Pieces and the Piano Sonata complete the program. The encore, a dialogue
song, falls flat without the vocal inflections.
Violin
Works. Anne Akiko
Meyers, violin; Li Jian, piano. (Avie, 0024)
While Anne Akiko Meyers
and Li Jian offer fine performances of the familiar Debussy and Ravel
sonatas, what really sets these readings apart is their context within
this otherwise unusual recital. Meyers begins with Birds in Warped Time
II by Somei Satoh (b. 1947), in which the violin plays a very Japanese
sounding melody, still and spare with many bent notes, its intensity
rising in the middle. Meanwhile, the piano provides a rapid, sparkling
figure that's both minimalist and evocative of French impressionist
water music. This sets the scene for the Debussy Violin Sonata, where
Meyers' frequent and varied use of portamento is both period-appropriate
and an echo of the Satoh piece we've just heard. Meyers brings out an
Orientalism in this score that usually doesn't register, especially
when she employs slides with little or no vibrato. The very early, dreamy
Messiaen Theme and Variations are phrased like a song, rather than the
abstract melodies with indistinct contours this music could easily become.
Next, Takemitsu's Distance
de Fée sounds like slightly later Messiaen—the French now
influencing the Japanese. And so by the end, the Ravel Violin Sonata
seems a return to pure French style—except, of course, for the
American jazz/blues inflections, which Meyers makes the most of.
This is a fascinating program,
heard best in a single sitting.
—James
Reel
Mozart-Zukerman.
Canada's National Arts Center Orchestra, Pinchas Zukerman, music director.
Zukerman, Jessica Linnebach, violins; Donnie Deacon, violin/viola; Jane
Logan, Jethro Marks, violas; Amanda Forsyth, cello; and Kimball Sykes,
clarinet. (CBC Records, SMCD 5230-2)
The National Arts Center
Orchestra, a very fine, classical-size ensemble, was founded in 1969;
Pinchas Zukerman became its music director in 1998. Acting as conductor,
soloist, and chamber musician on this two-CD all-Mozart set, he displays
the same tonal and stylistic approach in all three capacities: lyrical,
patrician, restrained, mellow, without sharp attacks. Tempos are leisurely
with ritards at every opportunity, especially the endings. In the Divertimento
K. 136 and the Symphony K. 201, the string section's tone is warm and
rich, like his own. Zukerman favors strong basses and prominent inner
voices and phrases with courtly elegance. He plays the A-major violin
concerto with pristine perfection but almost inhibited virtuosity, a
beautiful if over-ripe tone, and much grace and charm. His tempos are
sedate, sometimes ponderous. He plays two quintets with the orchestra's
principals, who bravely try to match his sound: The G-minor string quintet
is heartbreaking and simple.
—E.E.
Danielpour: In the Arms
of the Beloved. Kalichstein-Laredo-Robinson Trio: Joseph Kalichstein,
piano; Jaime Laredo, violin; Sharon Robinson, cello; Michael Stern conducting
the Iris Chamber Orchestra. (Arabesque, Z6767)
Richard Danielpour (b. 1956)
has enjoyed incredible success with high-profile commissions and grants;
his music is very accessible yet deeply serious. He's never quite managed,
though, to establish a unique Danielpour "sound"; Shostakovich,
Bernstein, Britten, Rouse, and many other composers echo through his
scores. Still, Danielpour stops short of seeming derivative, and the
two recent works on this disc come off to good effect in the hands of
musicians for whom they were written.
A Child's Reliquary
is a trio in memory of the infant son of conductor Carl St. Clair. Danielpour
has aptly described it as a "Kindertotenlieder without words."
The Kalichstein-Laredo-Robinson Trio marvelously conveys the score's
many shades of darkness: the beautifully controlled harmonics of the
opening pages, the strings' elegiac chorale over the first movement's
more searching piano part, the suppressed rage underlying the second
movement's whimsical scherzo before giving way to a delicate gymnopédie,
and the desolate atmosphere of the final movement.
Danielpour wrote the double
concerto In the Arms of the Beloved to celebrate Laredo and Robinson's
25th wedding anniversary, taking inspiration from unspecified works
by the Persian poet Rumi. Much of this music is misterioso and uneasy—one
hopes it doesn't reflect the musicians' marriage—with
the contrasting second movement, "Ritual Dances," sounding
like Bernstein gone Russian. The only hint of Middle Eastern music lies
in the long cadenza preceding the last movement. The finale sounds like
Britten leading in to the sort of melod\é you'd hear on one of
Frank Sinatra's melancholy 1950s albums. Laredo and Robinson emphasize
the music's ardent, lyrical potential, the two perfectly matched in
every detail of expression and technique.
—J.R.
Maurice Ravel/George
Enescu. Leonidas Kavakos, violin, Péter Nagy, piano. (ECM
New Series, ECM B0001485-02)
This is a felicitous pairing
of composers, styles, and performers. Ravel's lusciously impressionist
single-movement Sonata, written in 1897 but not published until l975,
was reportedly first performed by Enescu and Ravel at the Paris Conservatoire,
where both studied with Fauré. Influenced by folk and gypsy elements,
Ravel's Tzigane and Enescu's Sonata No. 3 are bravura showpieces that
exploit every violinistic effect; they are interesting but hardly great
music. The playing's the thing and it is spectacular. Kavakos' virtuosity
is stunning but not showy. He tosses off the most hair-raising pyrotechnics
and sound effects, even an imitation of birds, with ease and relish.
His tone is gorgeous: dark, pure, intense, focused, variable with bow
and vibrato. Playing with passion and floating delicacy, he identifies
naturally with the music's idiomatic rhythms, harmonies, and character.
This must be one of the best performances of the Tzigane on record,
and Nagy, a splendid partner throughout, sounds almost like an orchestra.
—E.E.
Sibelius & Korngold
Violin Concertos; Sinding Suite. Itzhak Perlman, violin, Andre Previn
conducting the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra. (EMI Classics, Perlman
Edition, 5 62590 2)
These 1979 and 1980 recordings
capture Perlman at his incomparable peak. Reveling in his own virtuosity,
he tosses off these ferociously difficult pieces with consummate, effortless
perfection. His tone is warm, mellow, pure, expressive, instantly variable
to fit the music–it glows with a golden radiance. He brings unusual
inwardness to the Sibelius concerto, underplaying the extroverted flamboyance
without losing the brilliance. In Christian Sinding's Suite, he has
fun running around, climbing way up the G string, and mocking a Baroque
dance. Korngold, a sensational child prodigy who wrote operas in his
teens, emigrated to Hollywood where his film scores gained him fame,
fortune, and artistic frustration. He kept trying to compose "serious"
music but, his talent irretrievably derailed, he always fell back on
material from his films. The Violin Concerto, dedicated to and premiered
by Jascha Heifetz, is pleasant and ingratiating, with soaring if sentimental
tunes and colorful orchestration. Perlman's playing is serious, honestly
expressive, and without condescension.
—E.E.
