More Sauret from Nazrin Rashidova

As a refugee from the current horror of British politics, I seized with glee a new CD where the immensely talented Azeri violinist, Nazrin Rashidova, plays the third volume of Emile Sauret's Opus 64 études-caprices. As I have remarked before (when commenting on the first two volumes) Sauret's works for solo violin demand first-rate virtuosity, but not showmanship virtuosity as required by many of the solo violin works of Paganini or Ernst. Not many circus tricks with Sauret. Rashidova is probably the ideal interpreter of these genial études-caprices.

We live in a golden age for those who like serious music. In Britain and America more and more concert halls seem to be going over to entertainment / showbiz music, rather than to the age-old great music of previous generations. Since in my long life I have only briefly lived in or near large cities, I have almost always been dependent on recorded or broadcast music. When I grew up in the 1940s, 50s and 60s, hour-long recordings of solo violin works by Sauret were completely inconceivable, and unobtainable. In the current era, thanks mainly to the plethora of small recording companies, so much music outside the classical A Group is now at one's fingertips. As usual, we have the admirable Naxos company to thank for Rashidova's recordings of Sauret. Excellent recording quality, to boot. Strongly recommended, especially for lovers of fine violin playing and lovely violin music.

Supraphon. And the Pavel Haas Quartet

Listening to Bedrich Smetana's two string quartets as recorded in 2014 by the Pavel Haas Quartet, I marvelled at Supraphon's recording. A perfect balance between the four instruments. A perfect perspective for the sound -- not too distant, not too close. A perfect balance between pianissimo and fortissimo. An avoidance of the high violin “glare” that so disfigures so many digital recordings.

All this, of course, subject to my playback equipment, which is not state-of-the-art, but nor is it bargain basement. I know nothing about sound recording of music, except that in the 1950s and 60s EMI with Walter Legge and Douglas Larte did great things, as did DGG in the 1960s and 70s; and Supraphon for the past couple of decades. Recording “classical” music is intrinsically different from recording popular or entertainment music, and one really cannot use the same teams for both. Happily for us, Supraphon appears to have recording technicians who understand orchestral and chamber music. I wish the company would record more of the superb Pavel Haas Quartet; the current market selection is a bit limited.

Leos Janacek

I took down a box of “The Best of Czech Classics”: eight Czech string quartets played by three different Czech string quartets. Two quartets by Janacek, two by Smetana, one by Novak, and three by Dvorak. Needless to say, the quartets that spoke to me best were the two by Leos Janacek. I have been a Janaceck fan ever since the 1950s, when I acquired a 10” CD of the Diary of a Young Man who Disappeared (sung in German) quickly followed by the Glagolitic Mass, and the Sinfonietta. I never ventured into Janacek's many operas, but I greatly enjoy his sonata for violin and piano. There is something about Janaceck's laconic, fragmented and emotional music that greatly appeals to me, and always has. His is a very individual voice. Never been a Dvorak fan, however.

As a footnote: Janacek was not technically Czech, since he was born in Moravia. Just as Ioseb Besarionis dze Jughashvili (aka Joseph Stalin) and Lavrentiy Pavlovich Beria were not really Russians, but Georgians, and Nikita Sergeyevich Khrushchev and Leonid Ilyich Brezhnev were not really Russians, but Ukrainians. In that part of Europe, your current nationality often depended on the month, and the year. Probably still does.

Beethoven's Diabelli Variations: Artur Schnabel

Back to Beethoven's Diabelli, and this time with Artur Schnabel (recorded 1937). The restoration on Naxos (Mark Obert-Thorn) is excellent, but I needed to tame the bass. Compared with Levit (yesterday) one notices straight away how Schnabel differentiates each of the 33 variations, and how he obviously loves the music. Coming from a different time, many of the variations are played more slowly than is now customary. So much the better.

Despite its age, this is now going to be my first choice when I want to listen to the Diabelli played by a master who knows and loves the music. Three stars.

Beethoven's Diabelli Variations. Igor Levit

My love of the music of Ludwig van Beethoven has waned over the past decades. I now find much of his music somewhat bombastic, and a forced listening to his fifth piano concerto recently confirmed my loss of interest. There are, however, still exceptions: the string quartets, the sonatas for violin and piano, the fourth piano concerto, the third, sixth and seventh symphonies – and the 33 Variations on a Theme of Diabelli. I grew up with this work in my teens (a 12 inch LP played by Wilhelm Backhaus). It's a work that demands a pianist at the service of the music, and is one that extrovert pianists such as Lang Lang or Glenn Gould should avoid. The Diabelli variations comprise a complete world within one work, and do not require the added magic / follies of interventionist pianists.

I have nine recordings of the Diabelli on my shelves — including the ever-faithful Backhaus recording from 1955 — but today I chose the recording by Igor Levit, very much a non-extrovert pianist and musician, although I could equally have chosen the 1937 recording by Artur Schnabel, another non-interventionist. Levit is hyper-efficient and dispatches the 33 variations as ordered. But, unlike Backhaus or Schnabel (or probably others) you do not feel he has this work in his bones, and that he does not have decades of playing it, and revelling in his favourite variations. I speak this as a lover of Levit's pianism but, for the Diabelli, you need super pianism. Plus. Love.

Schubert and Bach. From the Panocha Quartet, and Renaud Capuçon and David Fray

It was a happy choice when I decided to listen to a couple of Schubert's string quartets and my hand alighted on a 1988 Supraphon recording of the Panocha Quartet playing D 804 and the youthful D 87. Classic old-world playing reminding one very clearly that this is chamber music, with four friends playing in a large room or small hall. It also reminded me how extraordinary it is that one small country in central Europe could produce so many first class musicians – particularly string players and string quartets. It sometimes seems that at least half of the world's A class string quartets have been either Czech, or Hungarian. The Czechs are also lucky in having the faithful Supraphon company there for decade after decade, supporting Czech music and Czech players.

Feeling in a chamber music mood, my hand then alighted on a recent recording of four Bach sonatas for keyboard and violin. The soloists were Renaud Capuçon and David Fray; I liked this CD very much the first time round, and enjoy it more and more on re-hearing. Herr Bach presumably wrote the virtuoso keyboard part to show off his playing, and the keyboard does dominate these works, with the violin often just playing accompanying chords or, in one case, being completely silent for one whole movement (BWV 1019). The character of these sonatas comes over well in this recording, with Herr Bach (alias David Fray) dominating the show and Herr Vogel of the Court orchestra (alias Renaud Capuçon) together fully capturing the spirit of these four sonatas. I hope and trust the same players will one day give us the two remaining sonatas in this set of six.