Shostakovich, and the Hammerklavier

I did not much like Shostakovich's fourth symphony on a first hearing, so yesterday I gave it a second hearing – and still did not like it much. It did not seem to have much depth to it – a lot of posturing and clever writing. Almost certainly not the fault of the talented Vasily Petrenko and the Liverpool Philharmonic. A disappointment. Still, Shostakovich wrote fifteen symphonies and some of them I like very much indeed; you can't win them all.

So on to Ludwig van Beethoven and his Hammerklavier sonata, a work I have struggled to enjoy for many decades as played by Pollini, Gilels, Yudina, Solomon, Schnabel .. and now Igor Levit. The first two movements are fine, but the long, long, long adagio finds my concentration wandering, and the finale sounds pretty bizarre in places, even played by the supreme pianistic gallery above. In his final years Beethoven seems to have wandered off frequently into obscure pastures: the Große Fuge is a wonderfully strange work, but Beethoven's friends were certainly right in persuading him to detach it from the B flat major quartet – if only someone could have persuaded him to abandon the inflated finale of the ninth symphony, an ending that always spoils the fine first three movements for me.

Mattieu Arama, and Igor Levit

Vaguely alarming, this immense deluge of highly talented young pianists and violinists. Every day seems to bring a handful of great new violinists, mainly from France, Germany, Hungary, Czech & Slovakia, Russia, Japan, Korea and China -- with a good dash of Canadians. Were there always such numbers in the past, but it was just that they never had a chance to make their names before the advent of several hundred record companies, YouTube and music downloads? Yesterday saw me listening to Matthieu Arama's début CD on which he offers a number of attractive virtuoso works by Wieniawski, Paganini, Sarasate et al, interspersed with welcome morsels from Elgar and Tchaikovsky. His technique is exemplary; the musicianship impeccable; the recording excellent. Most enjoyable. Arama is French, and hails from Bordeaux. As with pretty well all these modern virtuosi, one does not get the individuality of a Kreisler, Szigeti or Heifetz. But then, one also does not get the peculiarities of Jan Kubelik or Bronislaw Huberman, or the later precarious technique of Ruggiero Ricci.

Then on to Igor Levit, a Russian who grew up in Germany and who has now reached the advanced age of 26 years old and has been heralded as a genuine great pianist by pretty well everyone in the universe. Swayed by the crowd, I bought his début recording -- the last five piano sonatas of Ludwig van Beethoven. Some début. Beethoven's later works - sonatas and string quartets - are the works of an individual who was no longer too concerned about wowing audiences, nor about catering to the foibles of sundry pianists or string players. The works are ideally interpreted by someone who eschews all posturing and external effects, and who forgets about the 18th century, critics, and audiences. Levit here is such an interpreter. I admire his concentration, his refusal to play to any gallery, his immaculate technique (of course) and his total immersion in these difficult works. I know the last sonata, Opus 111, extremely well having first acquired it in the 1950s played by Julius Katchen. Suffice it to say that, as played here by Igor Levit, all other versions I possess are quite blown away by this latest one. Marvellous playing, and marvellous musicianship. I long to hear Levit next in late Schubert.

Ah, I see ....

"Bach
The Sonatas and Partitas for Solo Violin -- Luca Fanfoni

This disc is a compendium of Bach’s violin artistry, where 18th-century stylistic connotations are set aside in favour of a musical invention that appears free from any marked temporal designation."

Jan Sibelius

Sometimes, after the Angst of late Mozart, Schubert or Shostakovich, it is good to drink a glass of cool, clear water. Such as the cool, clear water provided by the music of Jan Sibelius. I am old enough to have grown up with Sibelius and to have digested his music over the decades. This evening, my mind demanded something un-fraught, so I turned to Sibelius and his fifth symphony. My trusty companion, as so often in Sibelius's music, was Colin Davis conducting the LSO (the late vintage LSO recordings). Vocal contributions from Sir Colin and all, this is 24 carat Sibelius playing and I treasure these recordings, just as I treasure this music from the north.

Havng plugged Czech and Hungarian musicians for a while, I might also get in a word of praise for Domaine Fenouillet (JeanJean, Faugéres 2010). One of those not-expensive French table wines from the Hérault region that simply complements meal after meal at a very modest price -- around €5.25 a bottle at a Super U supermarket in France. Goes well with practically anything, especially, this evening, with the music of Sibelius.

Pavel Sporcl

It seems to be Pavel Week. No sooner had I finished praising the Pavel Haas Quartet playing Schubert, than I find myself greatly admiring Pavel Sporcl playing an admirable selection of Czech salon pieces by well-known Czech violinists: Frantisek Drdla, Jaroslav Kocian, Jan Kubelik, Ferdinand Laub, Frantisek Ondricek, Vasa Prihoda, Otakar Sevcik, and Pavel Sporcl himself (a piece entitled Bohemian Nostalgia). Fourteen highly attractive pieces of Czech music, most of them familiar from previous Czech players such as Josef Suk, Jan Kubelik, Vaclav Hudecek and Vaclav Snitil.

Sporcl is my kind of violinist. He has a casual way of tossing off the most difficult violinistic passages – much as Jascha Heifetz used to do. His playing is of the no-nonsense variety, much in the Czech tradition, and he saves his exteriorising to his pony tail, clothing and blue violin (a Czech violin made in 2006 that sounds superb in Sporcl's hands). The lands of the Czech-Slovaks, Romanians, Hungarians and Ukrainians have produced more top-class violinists than America has produced lawyers. Sporcl is another auto-buy for lovers of fine violin playing. It is also refreshing to have fourteen salon pieces without the inevitable Kreisler, Hora Staccato or Banjo & Fiddle. The recording, and all-important balance between violin and piano, are excellent (Supraphon).

Pavel Haas Quartet plays Schubert

After 60 years of serious music listening I am hesitant about awarding three stars for musical performances. However, the Schubert CD containing the Death and the Maiden quartet, and the C major string quintet, played by the young Pavel Haas Quartet deserves three stars for the playing, three stars for the recording and (of course) three stars for the music. There is little music that is greater or more profound than the 92 minutes of Schubert on this CD; I am always amazed at the utter simplicity (and profundity) of the principal melody in the quintet's slow movement.

String quartets must be a challenge to record; too often the first violin -- or the cello -- are over-prominent. Not so here, and all praise to Supraphon. All praise as well to the Pavel Haas Quartet who play with an intensity that is riveting, as well as showing a complete empathy with the music; Schubert is not romanticised here, and we are a long way in this music -- and in the playing -- from Herr Song-Writer. Not since the Busch Quartet have I enjoyed string quartet playing so much and I await, money in hand, for the Pavel Haas to record Beethoven, Shostakovich, or more Schubert.

Dmitri Dmitriyevich Shostakovich - again

Well, I am back after a long excursion to the Paris area, Corsica, Vienna, then back to Paris. Awaiting me when I arrived home was yet another recording of a Shostakovich symphony -- the eighth, with Valery Gergiev conducting the Mariinsky Orchestra.

I've probably written enough about my new-found love for Shostakovich. Also about my conviction that Russian orchestras play Russian music as if they really understand the language. So we can take it for granted that this evening's performance pleased me greatly. Some critics may winge a little; Gergiev is no polite little conductor with his head buried in the score and his metronome ticking away, but this performance of Shostakovich's eighth symphony really grabs me. There are many pointless exposulations concerning “best” and “greatest”; I recall some piffling little journalist once attempting to compile a list of the seven (why seven?) greatest composers of the twentieth century. A bit like sterile arguments concerning the “greatest” French composer (or Swiss composer). My personal opinion is that if one has to nominate just one “greatest” composer of the twentieth century, it has to be Dmitri Dmitriyevich Shostakovich; amongst his 15 symphonies, 15 string quartets and 24 preludes and fugues, there is some great music that speaks from the heart, to the heart. Time will confirm all -- though I am unlikely to be around in five decades time, or whatever. This evening I really enjoyed Shostakovich's eighth symphony. Tomorrow the postgirl is scheduled to bring a new recording (Petrenko) of Shostakovich's fourth symphony, a work I have never heard before in my entire life. To be continued ...

György Ligeti

Why is it so difficult to create a memorable theme, tune, motive or melody? Give Franz Schubert a few notes and a few manuscript bars and he could create highly memorable themes at the drop of a hat (think of the simplicity of the opening theme of the Notturno in E flat for piano, violin & cello D 897). Or think of the opening theme of Beethoven's Eroica symphony; simple, but effective. Why do so many contemporary composers find themes such a difficult concept? Ever the determined explorer, I gave György Ligeti a second chance, and started to re-listen to his violin concerto. My two thoughts after around five minutes? The first was: “codswallop”. The second was from the old days of television, when the picture would temporarily go haywire and a message would appear on your screen: “Do not adjust your set. Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible”. Mr Ligeti is now filed on the furthest filing shelf I can find. Life is far too short, and attractive music far too plentiful, to persevere with this kind of stuff.

Tianwa Yang's penultimate Sarasate Volume

The postgirl brought the penultimate volume (the seventh) of the complete works of Sarasate played by the wonderful Tianwa Yang. This fourth volume of music for violin and orchestra joins the three volumes of violin and piano pieces. Of Ms Yang's playing, I cannot do better than quote a Gramophone reviewer who is quoted on the Naxos CD: “ ... Splendidly equipped as a Sarasate violinist, with her clear tone, pure intonation, impressive dexterity and light touch ... startingly beautiful”. Well, that's it, in a nutshell. If you like Sarasate's music -- and who couldn't? -- and like beautiful violin playing, this set of seven CDs is the set for you. The latest volume contains the same selection of enjoyable music; in the “Fantaisie sur Der Freischütz de Weber”, it is easy to understand why 19th century audiences loved Sarasate (and made him a very rich man from his earnings). Naxos, being a serious recording company, gives us a photo of a warm, smiling Chinese girl (Ms Yang) rather than some sultry bimbo. A warm thank you to Naxos, and a very warm thank you to Tianwa Yang for having brought eight hours of Sarasate's music very much to life. The final volume -- violin and piano -- is due out next year. I'll be waiting.

Decca, Walter, Ferrier, Mahler

The British publication The Gramophone published this month its annual awards for “the best” in various categories (excluding the all-important category of historical transfers). Improbable Artist of the Year was a blond, female trumpeter (British, of course). What raised my eyebrows was the accolade of Record Label of the Year going to ... Decca (British, in origin, of course).

There are myriad record labels out there, some doing great things in rare repertoire and with first-class artists. I was reflecting on this when, this evening, I made another small step in eliminating duplications in my collection: I have two transfers of the classic 1952 recording of Mahler's Das Lied von der Erde with Bruno Walter, Katheen Ferrier, Julius Patzak and the Vienna Philharmonic. One transfer is Naxos (Mark Obert-Thorn). The other is from the original company Decca (96KHz 24-bit Super Digital Transfer). I listened to a one minute sample of each. One minute was enough.

The Decca sounded like a hi-tech machine transfer; the Naxos sounded like an audio craftman's transfer. Naxos won hands down -- so much so that I had to stay and listen to every note of the final Abschied as rendered by Ferrier, Walter and the VPO. Very moving, and in quite acceptable (Naxos) sound. Record Label of the Year. My foot.

Clara Haskil in Mozart

I am not old enough to have heard Mozart play his piano concertos. But I think that Clara Haskil is a good substitute for Wolfgang Amadeus, particularly in the D minor concerto K 466 which she played at the Lucerne Festival in September 1959 with the Philharmonia conducted by Otto Klemperer. Despite the 1959 recording (and the poor balance, with the piano grossly favoured over the orchestra) one can see why Haskil regarded it (in a letter to a friend) as an exceptional concert. She and Klemperer work together as in a perfect musical marriage; the somewhat grim music of K 466 seems to suit both admirably. A performance in a thousand, happily recorded and issued for posterity by Audite. Clara Haskil, like Klemperer, favours clarity, balance and note values. Such a pity the partnership never survived the dictats of the recording companies of that era.

Josef Spacek

Along with neighbouring Hungary and Romania, the Czech-Slovakian lands have produced generation after generation of fine violinists. The latest one to come to my attention is Josef Spacek who first appeared when I heard his very fine CD of pieces by Ernst where he revealed himself as an extremely musical virtuoso. A new CD from him -- with Miroslav Sekera at the piano -- features two of my favourite violin and piano sonatas: the sonata by Janacek, and Prokofiev's first sonata. A lovely CD; Spacek has an immaculate technique and a breathtaking pianissimo. The Janacek sonata comes over as more melancholy and less passionate than usual, featuring a more leisurely approach to the first movement which Janacek marked simply con moto (whatever that may mean. How can music be senza moto?)

So yet another fine duo disc; in addition to the Janacek and Prokofiev works, there are Smetana's two Z Domoviny pieces, plus the Prokofiev solo violin sonata. A word of praise for the Supraphon engineers who have achieved the difficult feat of balancing violin and piano beautifully, with plenty of space round the sound so that even Spacek's examplary pianissimo playing can be enjoyed to the full. Three stars.

Finally, a plea from a friend to anyone who has, or who knows of, a video recording of Henryk Szeryng playing Paganini's third violin concerto (London, 1971, with Alexander Gibson conducting). Anyone able to locate this or offer a copy; please send me a message.

Two Georgian Girls

Thanks to an urgent recommendation from an American friend, I plugged into Lisa Batiashvili and Khatia Buniatishvili playing Schubert and César Franck at Verbier this year (22 July). In one word: truly magnificent, and thank you MediciTV for filming the concert and making it available. The film should be shown in every music conservatory as a prime example of true duo playing. Lisa and Khatia listened to each other, and responded to each other's music, creating a real musical dialogue. For over a decade now, Lisa Batiashvili has been my top favourite of the new wave (viz, tidal wave) of brilliant new violinists; not only does she make a beautiful sound, have a superb technique and have incredible poise; but she is also a real musician whose powers of concentration shape the forms of the music she plays.

Her dialogue with Khatia Buniatishvili was riveting in the Schubert Rondo Brilliant and the Duo Sonata, and in the César Franck sonata. The encore, Heifetz's arrangement of Debussy's Beau Soir, was deeply moving as played by the two Georgians. In true duo playing of violin and piano music, one hesitates between admiring the violinist or the pianist, trying to decide which to admire more. So it was with this concert. Khatia Buniatishvili is a real pleasure to listen to, as is always, Lisa Batiashvili. It is sad that since both Georgians are “exclusive artists” with different record companies, the chance of hearing them together outside the concert stage will probably be limited. Anyway, for this 65 minute concert: thank you Lisa and Khatia. And thank you Verbier Festival and MediciTV (as well as César Franck and Franz Schubert). Proof that in a world where so much art is now thoroughly commercialised, oases of civilisation still exist.

The Liverpool Philharmonic and Vasily Petrenko

The Liverpool Philharmonic is hardly the Vienna or Berlin Philharmonic, but in Shostakovich conducted by Vasily Petrenko the Liverpudlians sound first class. As I've remarked before, a second-echelon orchestra playing its heart out is often more enjoyable than a top orchestra going through the motions. Jascha Horenstein was another conductor who could draw first class results from second-echelon orchestras. My latest sampling of Petrenko is with Shostakovich's eighth symphony, a work of which I am becoming very fond. Easy to lose one's tracks amidst 15 symphonies that I have only recently discovered – but I do recall having a special spot for numbers 8, 10 and 15 (plus one other, that I cannot remember). An aspect of Shostakovich's music that greatly appeals to me is its frequent mood changes – from sombre to merry, from savage to tender, from soft to (very) loud indeed. In the symphonies, Petrenko and his Liverpudlians come away as excellent guides. And the Naxos prices (and recording quality) also appeal. Listening demands either good quality headphones, or a manor on a secluded estate; the music can become very loud.

Klemperer in Mozart

Listening to two very enjoyable symphonies by Friedrich Ernst Fesca written around 1815, highlighted for me the gulf between great talent, and genius. Fesca was an immensely talented composer (with an early death at 37 years old). But turn to Mozart, or Beethoven or Schubert from the same approximate period, and the contrast is stark; we are in a different musical league all together. Unfortunately for Fesca, I am in the middle of a “Mozart period”, having taken delivery of not only an 11 CD box of Mozart operas, but also an 8 CD box of Mozart symphonies and serenades. Highly enjoyable; I have neglected Mozart for quite a while to wander in the pastures of Bach, Wagner, Shostakovich, et al. But Wolfgang Amadeus is welcome back into my life.

Conductor of these mammoth boxes is ... Otto Klemperer, one of the side benefits of the EMI sale to Warner being the fire-sale of the great recordings from the EMI back catalogue. Klemperer lived a long time (dying at the ripe old age of 88 and active almost until the very end). Of him, the EMI liner note says: “ ... last of a generation of great conductors who had been nurtured within the late nineteenth century European culture where music was central to the intellectual and spiritual life of the civilisation it served”. I revel in Klemperer's Mozart conducting. All his many virtues are to the fore: care with note values; strict attention to balance and clarity; rhythmic integrity; balance between first and second violins; forward woodwind; avoidance of any suspicion of showmanship or playing to the gallery; attention to dynamics; complete integrity. Added to this, in these recordings, is the playing of the Philharmonia during the 1950s and 60s, plus the professionalism and care of detail by the EMI recording team nurtured by Walter Legge. All topped by the incredible fire-sale prices of the EMI back catalogue.

And tempi? In the main, I have few problems with Klemperer's tempi. For me, the secret of a “correct” tempo is that the interpreter must feel it, and believe in it. Thus slower tempi that can be found with artists such as Furtwängler or Klemperer can sound right, just as faster tempi with an artist such as Jascha Heifetz can sound right. Tempi sound wrong when they are chosen for extraneous reasons, such as “if I play it slowly, it will sound more profound” or “I will play it fast because that is what the composer's metronome specification says”. Tempi need to be generated internally, not from external factors.

There are -- for the moment -- Klemperer boxes of pretty well the whole Austro-German eighteenth and nineteenth century concert hall repertoire: Bach, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert, Brahms, Schumann, Wagner, Bruckner and Mahler. And, unlike his colleagues such as Bruno Walter, Toscanini, Furtwängler, Erich Kleiber, et al, Klemperer lived just long enough to be in pretty decent recorded sound. Anyone wanting core recordings of the Austro-German repertoire should invest in all these Klemperer boxes, immediately (the sale is unlikely to last too long).

Fanny Clamagirand, and Camille Saint-Saëns

A sunny Saturday afternoon, and a new CD of the French violinist Fanny Clamagirand (with Vanya Cohen) playing violin and piano music of Camille Saint-Saëns. This is the third CD I have of Clamagirand playing Saint-Saëns; probably almost no one plays it better, with her French elegance and good taste. Saint-Saëns's music does not need pumping up; it just needs a sense of style. A lovely way to pass an hour or so, listening to highly agreeable music beautifully played in an entirely appropriate style. Naxos, of course.

Ysaÿe - Murray, and Barati

The six sonatas for solo violin written by Eugène Ysaÿe nearly a hundred years ago are popular with violinists and with lovers of violin playing – much as the semi-contemporaneous pieces by Alexander Scriabin are popular with pianists. The music of both composers is probably less popular with audiences; although Ysaÿe was born in 1858, his six solo sonatas breathe a somewhat modernistic air, and extended works for a solo violin can become monotonous, unless the violinist has a full quiver of sophisticated sonic arrows.

I do not usually do head-to-head comparisons of different artists, but having the six Ysaÿe sonatas played by Kristof Barati and by Tai Murray out for listening, I decided to listen to each sonata twice, played alternately by the two artists. It was an interesting experience, and brought to mind the now-ancient rivalry between fans of the Sibelius violin concerto with Jascha Heifetz (1935) and Ginette Neveu (1945). Both Heifetz and Neveu gave great performances, albeit of a very different character, and this came to my mind listening to Barati and to Murray. Barati is Hungarian and Murray American; both, on their respective CDs, prove to be technically completely competent in these difficult sonatas that contain many chords and many passages in double stopping. Barati is the Heifetz in this instance, with slightly faster tempi than Murray and with an overall elegance that holds the attention. He has superb double stops, an excellent range of dynamics and a myriad of different colours in his palette, holding my attention fully through each sonata.

I did not think Murray would be able to compete with this: but she does. Equally impressive dynamics, and an equally rich palette of colours. She is the Neveu of the two, bringing a sense of affection and passion to what she is playing – one suspects the sonatas are even closer to her heart than they are to the heart of Barati.

Which interpretation will I keep, alongside a few others, including the excellent Thomas Zehetmair? As so often in these cases, I'll keep Heifetz and Neveu in the Sibelius; and Barati and Murray in the Ysaÿe sonatas. Both the newcomers are well recorded -- no easy task with a solo violin -- though perhaps Murray is a shade too close to the microphone. Both violins sound fine, though Barati's 1703 Strad sounds a whisker better in the higher reaches than does Murray's 1690 Tononi. Kristof Barati sounds more masculine; Tai Murray sounds more feminine, and you never lose track of which one you are listening to. We live in great times for lovers of fine violin playing.

Klemperer in Wagner

It was moving this evening listening to the 85 year old Otto Klemperer conducting the Philharmonia and Norman Bailey in Wotan's Farewell (to his daugher) from Act III of Die Walküre. It was almost the last music Klemperer recorded, and “Leb wohl, du kühness, herrliches Kind” has never sounded so sorrowful. It is slow (Klemperer, 1970) but in other words: it is authoritative, magisterial. Georg Solti, in the same passage, sounds almost as if he were in a hurry to get rid of his favourite daughter. Not Otto.

Wagner's music is music to bask in, and I am infinitely happy that amongst all the things I did as a teenager, absorbtion in Wagner's world of themes and motifs was one of the better activities. Composers come and composers go. And conductors come and conductors go. Among my preferred conductors of the German classics (Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert, Brahms, Wagner, Bruckner, Richard Strauss) are: Furtwängler, Knapperstbusch, Klemperer, Böhm, and a few others. In some ways, the art of classical conducting from the first decades of the 20th century died with them. Fortunately, there are recordings -- as in the case of Klemperer going on into the very early 1970s. Klemperer in Wagner is really something to hear. They don't play it like that, now.