This duo set unites all of Brahms’ Piano Trios, masterpieces of
the genre, in performances of integrity and beauty from the Trio
Fontenay. What’s even better is that they are now at Warner Apex’s
super-budget price.
The first trio is the most successful in the set. This is the work of
a young man which has been returned to in maturity. The Op.
8 trio was Brahms’ first published chamber work, but he revised
it for a new edition in 1889. The first movement shows Brahms
at his most intimate deploying a beautiful, warm B major melody
heard here in close, clear sound. The scherzo is driven by
a persistent rhythm which retains its jocularity without becoming
hard-nosed. Not for the only time on the disc, Niklas Schmidt’s
cello unfolds a glorious melody in the slow movement before
the finale takes a surprisingly dramatic tone and ends in
the minor key.
The C minor trio could not be a greater contrast. It is a work of stormy
passion. The Fontenay play with real attack at the opening,
yielding to a more flowing second subject. There is a great
contrast with the scherzo which is light and filigree in their
hands, especially the cello pizzicati which blow a
delicate air through the texture. The slow movement takes
its grazioso marking seriously, especially in the way
it often pairs the cello and violin against the piano: this
is the most conversational movement in the set. There is
a real searching tone to the finale until we break into a
lighter major episode to end the work.
The posthumous trio is a real bonus, though I’m told that there is still
some controversy over whether it really is by Brahms. Whatever
the position may be, it still carries the architectural strength
that we associate with much later Brahms. The opening moderato
unfolds with purposeful strength, while the scherzo carries
a feeling of subdued mischief before melting into its tender
trio. The slow movement has a turbulent middle section framed
by moments of Elysian stillness. If the finale is not quite
as inspired as its predecessors, it is still played with integrity.
My only doubts concerned the C major trio, one of Brahms’ greatest chamber
works, which didn’t convince me nearly as much. The first
movement never seemed to settle down: it seemed as though
the Fontenay were searching for the correct tempo - and sometimes
even the correct beat - throughout, and they only found it
in the closing bars. The variations of the second movement
carried more security and the lyrical ending was gorgeous,
while the spidery scherzo unfolded into a gloriously lyrical
trio section. The finale, however, was muscular but somewhat
unflinching with few of the nuances this work contains. Regrettably
this was the least convincing performance of the set; a shame
considering the work’s stature.
On the whole this remains a very worthwhile survey of Brahms’ complete
trios and its price makes it very attractive. Still, if it’s
overarching quality that you’re after you can do a lot worse
than the Beaux Arts Trio on Philips or, for a more controversial
modern reading, try Angelich and the Capuçons on Virgin.
Simon Thompson
