To begin with I cannot do better than quote the
opening words of Callum MacDonald in his brochure notes: “These
four works, by perhaps the three most commanding figures in French music
in the early part of the 20
th century, were all composed
within the space of eight years, and are among their composers’
definitive contributions to the chamber music genre. In their different
ways, each has an autobiographical element, while transcending mere
personal details to produce utterances that remain haunting in their
universality”.
Haunting is precisely the adjective that comes to my mind each time
I hear the opening notes of Ravel’s piano trio for I know of no
more gorgeously beautiful an opening to any work chamber or otherwise.
Reading the notes it would appear that there is an element of Basque
folk rhythm within the first movement in particular reflecting his native
region. The year before he wrote this work he had begun a projected
piano concerto entitled
Zazpiak Bat which is Basque for ‘The
Seven are One’ the Basque nationalist slogan expressing their
desire for the creation of a country made out of the Basque regions
of France and Spain. He never completed that concerto but this one was
given its first performance on 28 January 1915. Ravel employed some
ground-breaking features not only in terms of timbre and harmony but
in finding solutions for enabling the percussive nature of the piano
to become a more integral member of the trio rather than it seeming
a separate entity. If anyone was able to achieve such an aim it was
Ravel who is increasingly emerging as a major contributor to a new direction
for music in the early twentieth century. The music is ravishing in
its beauty and there cannot be said to be a note too few or too many.
Having said that, the version played here is merely considered to be
‘the closest to Ravel’s intentions’ because of a combination
of printer’s and engraver’s errors in the original score
coupled with tinkering by its earliest performers. Suffice to say that
this is a superb rendition with each player doing Ravel the ultimate
justice in presenting this work in the best possible light.
All four works on this disc were composed just before the outbreak of
the First World War or in its early months as with Debussy’s cello
and violin sonatas. These were to be two of a cycle of six he planned
to write as his contribution to his country given that he was unable
to take any military role due to the increasingly aggressive cancer
that would kill him in 1918. In the event he managed just three of the
projected six, the other one being his sonata for flute, viola and harp.
All three were signed as being by
Claude Debussy, musician français
to express his patriotic fervour. One can only imagine how the final
one might have sounded since it was planned to include all the instruments
featured in the other five. Again as with Ravel’s trio the opening
of Debussy’s cello sonata is immediately recognisable and is another
that is staggeringly beautiful in its simplicity and as perfect an example
of ‘less is more’ as can be found in music. It is even more
surprising when you read that Debussy had never composed a sonata before.
Then again, that is one of the measures of genius, a word that may be
employed more often than it should be but is absolutely valid in Debussy’s
case. He reminds the pianist to ‘never forget that he is to accompany
the cello, not vie with it’. This is sound advice of which Arnon
Erez, the pianist here could never be accused. While the central movement
shocked listeners at the time of its composition with its abrupt pizzicato
rhythms the outer movements are lyrical and passionate statements that
Debussy was so wonderfully adept in producing. His violin sonata also
begins with an immediately recognisable opening with two notes on the
piano before the cello joins in. Those notes, on their own, would alert
anyone who knows this work to what they were listening to. While those
two notes herald a movement that is full of nostalgia and tinged with
sadness its beauty shines through. This makes the second movement a
considerable contrast in that it is mischievous and puckish. The two
instruments play around each other delightfully. This sets us up for
the finale which is marked
très animé though it
has echoes of the melancholy expressed in the opening movement. I was
struck with the deep richness of sound from Shaham’s violin which
sounded almost like a viola at times. It is works such as these two
that make Debussy one of my favourite composers whose music I could
never be without.
Gabriel Fauré who was born seventeen years before Debussy and
who outlived him by six experienced a final flowering of compositional
creativity towards the end of his life. This was despite increasingly
failing health. The piano trio was his penultimate work, written the
same year he died. It is a glorious outpouring of pure emotion and nothing
in the music indicates to me a man who had but a few months to live.
To sum up: we have a disc with four superb examples of chamber music
from three of the giants of early twentieth century French music. They
make for a wonderful programme. The trio of musicians playing here are
brilliant exponents of this kind of repertoire in which rapport is the
essential ingredient and which they demonstrate to perfection. If there
are still people who are either unfamiliar with these works or who simply
don’t yet own them then they could do no better than snap this
disc up and wallow in some of the most fabulous chamber music ever written.
Steve Arloff
See also review by
Terry
Barfoot
* Special price of £11 only until the end September 2013 - price
then reverts to £12
