This
is an enterprisingly planned recital that contains one out-and-out
masterpiece, one near masterpiece and some very worthwhile ditties.
The main works are, of course, the Prokofiev and Janáček
sonatas and competition is hot in both pieces. In the Prokofiev
the young artists on this Avie disc find themselves up against
Perlman/ Ashkenazy, Mullova/Canino, Kremer/Argerich, Mintz/Bronfman
and, best (or worst) of all, Repin and Berezovsky, whose 1995
Erato disc won great acclaim. In the Janáček competition
is slightly less fierce, but we still find the likes of Christian
Tetzlaff (with superb partnering from Leif Ove Andsnes), Kremer
and Argerich again and a superb historic Supraphon disc from the
inimitable Josef Suk and Jan Panenka.
So
the planning of this new disc is important. All the competition
listed above puts the two Prokofiev Sonatas together with lighter
couplings, but general consensus is that the first is the finer
piece (some might argue otherwise) so the Avie disc puts its eggs
in this basket and gives us the Janáček and quirky Shostakovich
as fillers. It makes a good sequence, starting with the Janáček
and ending with the much weightier Prokofiev. It’s unlikely that
the Shostakovich transcriptions will really sway the issue, so
it’s down to the two sonata performances to convince the listener
of the merits on offer here.
The
first thing to get used to is the recording. The booklet picture
shows an empty studio, with polished wooded floors, as one might
expect of a modern recording space. The trouble is, for such intimate
music it sounds a shade too reverberant for my liking. There is
a considerable echo delay, as if they are in an empty church,
but the miking is close, so the aural sound stage takes a bit
of adjusting to, especially in louder piano passages. Having said
that, one does get used to this and the quality of the playing
more than compensates. All the usual hallmarks of late Janáček
are in his Sonata, and these artists are alive to its many nuances
and subtleties. This music comes off best when it sounds improvised,
as here, and there are many examples where the spontaneity completely
wins the listener over. The lovely central ballade is one
such episode, and the final adagio is most moving.
The
Prokofiev needs a muscular tone, and the composer was the first
to admit that the piece had a rather serious, almost severe character,
especially compared to the second sonata. This is in evidence
from the very start, where the sombre mood is precisely gauged
by these artists, Gleusteen’s steely tone having a suitably ‘Russian’
edge. The playing here has one thinking of the somewhat spurious
programme that has been attached to the piece over the years (the
struggle of the Motherland, a young girl’s lament etc), and such
is the intensity of the performances that one soon forgets other
players. The difficult rhythmic finale comes off superbly, with
Ordronneau’s piano playing worthy of special mention.
I
may have seemed dismissive of the Shostakovich prelude transcriptions
above, but they do make delightful fillers, working surprisingly
well for violin and piano. The wit and irony suit the move to
violin, with the piano able to play much of its original material
intact. The individual preludes are full of character, and keen-eared
listeners may recognise No.15 as the theme tune to the popular
Richard Briers comedy Ever Decreasing Circles.
This
disc is worth considering, though whether it would displace favourite
versions of the main works is questionable. It works well on its
own terms as an enjoyable recital, and the slightly cavernous
sound may bother others less than me. Good notes by Julian Haylock,
though the blue print against light blue background makes them
very hard to read.
Tony
Haywood
Jonathan Woolf
has also listened to this recording
This is an attractively
programmed disc but it’s been badly
recorded. The Crear Studios are highly
resonant and the spatial separation
that’s also a noticeable feature of
this recording leads to balance problems,
not least on a number of occasions where
the piano overpowers the violin or covers
it. This is a pity because this is clearly
a sympathetic duo pairing, young musicians
of discrimination and taste, and they
do manage to emerge from the unsympathetic
acoustic with some honour.
As for the recital
two powerful and movingly intense twentieth
century sonatas frame Dmitri Tsiganov’s
transcription of the Op.34 Shostakovich
preludes. Of the two it’s the Prokofiev
that is the better understood. The Janáček
is not a work that plays itself and
nor is it one that responds well to
over febrile characterisation – it has
more than its share of contrast and
toughness as it is. The Gleusteen-Ordronneau
duo is unfailingly eloquent technically
but tends to exaggerate incident,
not least in the first movement where
they are much quicker than, say, the
classic pairing of Suk and Panenka.
The effect of the young duo’s abruptness
and convulsive phrasing is, ironically,
to smooth over the fissures inherent
in the music and the jerky violence
sometimes descends to gabble. I don’t
mean to sound indifferent to their playing,
which is of itself fine, but the slow
movement lacks colour and etching of
lines – too much of it sounds inactive,
even, dare I say it, generalized late
Romanticism. I’m sure the boomy acoustic
doesn’t help their cause. They try far
too hard in the Allegretto, attempting
to characterise each passing incident,
though this is genuinely involving playing.
My criticism centres rather on the lack
of integration of passages and also
a certain lack of authentic strangeness.
The concluding Adagio is taken at a
good tempo and the playing here is considered
and highly musical though I should add
that time will give Gleusteen the chance
to widen the subtlety of his vibrato
usage and for the duo to take their
chance with some rubati – both of which
devices are underused. I can’t recommend
this performance, obviously – and thinking
about it I wonder how long they have
had the sonata under their fingers.
It sounds as if they recorded it far
too early and I’d like to hear what
they make of it in a few years time,
with some recital performances under
their belts.
The Prokofiev sounds
rather better. I thought that they indulged
in too many ritardandi and accelerandi
in the first movement however. Gleusteen
is an elegant and persuasive player
but he rather lacks as yet the tonal
heft for this kind of writing and I
missed the remorseless logic and long
bowed power of Oistrakh and pianist
Frieda Bauer in this work. The distant
mike placements and acoustic are a price
to pay in the Allegro brusco – it makes
assertion difficult and rather diffuse.
But the lyrical sections are deeply
romantic, even Brahmsian, though one
might prefer Oistrakh’s simplicity and
refinement, his touching
delicacy. I felt in the Andante much
as I did in the Janáček – this
duo is strong on local incident but
not yet on the broader canvas. I wish
they would shape phrases in slow moments
more compellingly and it’s no coincidence
that although Oistrakh and Bauer
in their live 1968 recording are by
some way slower than the younger pairing
they sound hugely more incisive. I enjoyed
the duo’s way with the finale – fizzing
and excellent ensemble work, though
maybe the reflective passages weren’t
as well subsumed as they should be.
The Shostakovitch Preludes make a good
central panel. They respond well to
the miniatures – No 3 blessed with an
excellent trill, No 10 veiled and solemn,
No 15 flecked with humour and No 17
genuinely elegant.
I’ve rather laboured
the duo’s relative failings – or what
I take to be their failings – because
I think they are genuinely talented
musicians who have not lived quite long
enough with the repertoire to do it,
and themselves, justice. The recording
is also against them. I’d like to hear
them in a proper acoustic next time,
recording some Debussy.
Jonathan Woolf
Kai Gleusteen (violin)