The booklet proclaims
these works to be ‘solo manifestos’
not only for Baiba Skride in establishing
her credentials on disc but also for
the composers themselves. Indeed there
is a tidy connection that links the
three composers, Bach being the bedrock
that both Ysaÿe and Bartók
acknowledge through their works.
Skride hails from Riga
in the Latvian Republic, and this I
suspect will lead many to initially
mention her name in the same breath
as Gidon Kremer and maybe compare and
contrast her playing with his. But Kremer
is far from her only rival on disc in
these pieces. In fact it seems that
any fresh-faced young violinist these
days wants to jump headlong into Bach’s
solo works – Julia Fischer, Hilary Hahn
et al – but my hope is that they
keep the works in their repertoire,
even if they might not get the opportunity
to re-record them as Kremer and Menuhin
notably have after deepening their understanding
of them.
The opening of the
second partita is immediately bold,
the violin being closely recorded so
that you have the feeling of sitting
a few feet away from the assured performance
that is taking place. Kremer’s second
recording for ECM is similarly caught,
but his playing throughout has an altogether
rougher edge to it that some have seen
as "searching for the truth within
the music", others see it just
as rough tone. With Skride the Allemanda
alternates passages of near declamation
(not too insistently given) with more
reflectively voiced phrases. Although
Skride’s tempi may not be the fastest
around, but she does not give the sense
of dawdling her way through the music.
The Corrente
picks up the tempo nicely and, like
the fourth movement Giga, carries
a pleasing zest about it. The third
movement Sarabanda is notable
here for its use of pared down tone
and finely drawn pianissimo that sacrifice
little in the way of tonal substance.
The final movement Ciaccona appears,
like the rest of the work, to be of
deceptive simplicity that actually hides
technical challenges galore (leading
one to understand why Kremer refers
to the Sonatas and Partitas as the "Himalayas
of the violin repertoire"). Skride
takes the challenge presented in her
stride with a thoroughly youthful precociousness,
and achieves a convincing result.
The "Huggins"
Stradivari is an instrument in fine
form with several nuances to its palette.
The top register is clean, bright and
supple, though never hard or metallic
as one often experiences with lesser
instruments. The middle range is warm
and links beautifully to a rich and
deep bottom register. All of these are
important aspects in each work given
here, but it seems to me particularly
so in Ysaÿe’s first sonata. Skride’s
reading of it does bear similarities
to that of the Bach – a relatively expansive
view taken, likeness of tone. But when
placed alongside a reading like that
by Ilya Kaler on Naxos welcome differences
of approach and results become apparent.
Kaler’s reading, though forthright in
approach, suffers in my view from being
too resonantly recorded, leading to
a muddied sound in faster passages.
Skride’s slower tempi and cleanness
of recording neatly avoid this problem,
and therefore might be preferable to
many as a result. But some might also
counter that she sacrifices something
of getting beneath the skin of the work
for the sake of showy virtuosity. However
Ysaÿe’s composition in my view
is undoubtedly strong enough to withstand
both views, and like the other two works
there is never likely to be a single
definitive reading.
Bartók’s solo
sonata will be ever linked with its
commissioner and dedicatee, Yehudi Menuhin.
More recent readings too show their
performers’ Bartókian credentials
to good effect – Isabelle Faust on Harmonia
Mundi in particular. Skride’s vision
of the work is somewhat more urgent
than Faust’s – even in the Fuga
and Melodia – that leads to a
greater sense of cohesion in the reading
as a whole. Indeed one can hear most
clearly in the Fuga Bartók’s
acknowledgement of Bach, as Skride’s
playing seems intent on emphasising
this. But one should also be conscious
that the opening Tempo di ciaccona
derives directly in form out of
Bach’s fearsome Ciaccona, heard
earlier. This tying together of works
does much to strengthen the appeal of
the disc as a whole. Even the Bartók
exhibits a sameness of tonal production,
and musically nutritious though the
tone and use of it is, it can be like
a meal of the finest ingredients that
sits a little heavily on you when eaten
at a single sitting.
One thing’s for sure
though, this disc is no turkey and hooray
for that! We’ve all had enough of those
by now haven’t we?
Evan Dickerson
Baiba Skride (violin, "Huggins" Stradivari,
1708) 
