Johannes BRAHMS (1833-1897)
Sonata No 2 in A major for violin and piano, Op 100 (1886) (adapted for clarinet by Michael Collins) [19:33]
Sonata No 1 in F minor for clarinet and piano, Op 120, No 1 (1894) [21:58]
Sonata No 2 in E-flat major for clarinet and piano, Op 120, No 2 (1894) [20:58]
Michael Collins (clarinet)
Stephen Hough (piano)
rec. June 2020, Henry Wood Hall, London. DSD
BIS BIS-2557 SACD [63:22]
The two sonatas which Brahms was inspired to write by hearing the playing of the clarinettist Richard Mühlfeld are staples of the repertoire for the instrument. Now, thanks to Michael Collins, clarinet players have a Brahmsian addition to their repertoire; or, rather, they will if Collins’ adaptation of the Second Violin Sonata is published, which I hope will happen, if it hasn’t occurred already. As Stephen Johnson reminds us in his informative notes, arrangements of the two clarinet sonatas have been made for the viola so there’s a good precedent for Collins to follow. And it appears that Brahms’ violin part suited the clarinet well; there is, for example, not a great deal of double stopping in the original, save in the closing pages of the finale.
The Op 100 sonata is laid out in three movements: Allegro amabile; Andante tranquillo – Vivace – Andante; Allegretto grazioso (quasi Andante). In this performance, the first movement is indeed ‘amabile’, though where required the playing also has backbone. As I listened, two characteristics stood out: a sense of musical flow, and evidence of a genuine partnership between the two musicians. The second movement combines a slow movement with a scherzo; the slow and fast elements alternate. I was especially struck by the ‘vivace’ passages; Collins and Hough make the music swift and light on its feet. The finale begins in genial mood but Brahms introduces a more ardent tone in the minor-key second subject and that rubs off eventually onto the treatment of the main material. Collins and Hough give a splendid performance. It seems to me that this adaptation of the sonata for clarinet is an unequivocal success.
Brahms worked on the two sonatas which constitute Op 120 during his summer holiday at Bad Ischl. I’d love to know, in general terms, what the composition process was: did he finish one work before commencing substantive work on the other, or did they evolve side by side?
The F minor sonata has four movements. In the opening Allegro appassionato both musicians invest the necessary energy into the music. However, the episodes which are more subtly nuanced are done with considerable poise, nowhere more so than in the wonderfully mellow closing pages. The Andante un poco adagio finds Brahms in his most winningly cantabile vein. This is music of exquisite wistfulness and here we experience it in the hands of an expert partnership. Their perfectly poised performance plays for just over five minutes; I would have happily listened to it for twice as long. There’s graceful playing to admire in the intermezzo third movement and then in the finale Brahms is in an extrovert, cheerful mood. Collins and Hough delight in the writing and sound to be having fun.
The E-flat major sonata is cast in three movements. The marking for the first, as in
Op 100, is Allegro amabile. If anything, the music here is even more ‘amabile’ than was the case in that earlier composition. Collins phrases the extended opening melody beautifully. As Stephen Johnson justly observes, Brahms’ writing in this movement displays “complete seamlessness”. That’s how Collins and Hough present it, and as well as admiring that facet of their performance, I also relished the countless subtle details that they bring out along the way. You can rely on Stephen Johnson to produce at least one completely apt and felicitous phrase in any booklet note he writes. I love the comment that he makes in referring to the scherzo movement of this sonata: “the flame that burns here is far less likely to flare up than in Brahms’s earlier scherzos – it’s the steady warmth of a cosy wood-burning stove rather than the exhilarating heat of a bonfire”. I know just what he means, though I’d add that this description doesn’t preclude vitality in the music. We know that the fire in a wood-burner can be lively from time to time, and that’s what happens in places here. Continuing the metaphor, I love the warmth that first Stephen Hough and then both players bring to the central Sostenuto episode in this movement. In the finale we are treated to a suave account of the variations and then, right at the end, in the Allegro finish the sparks fly as Collins and Hough bring down the curtain on the sonata with a virtuoso flourish.
I really enjoyed this SACD. I’m sure Michael Collins must have lived with the two
Op 120 sonatas for all his professional career. That seems abundantly clear from his superb playing in both of those sonatas. His Brahmsian experience is also evidenced by his highly persuasive and idiomatic adaptation of
Op 110. As for Stephen Hough, his Brahms credentials are well known, not least for his splendid recordings of the piano concertos (review) and, more recently, of the late piano pieces (review). It was a great idea to bring these two fine musicians together for this project and the idea has paid off handsomely.
As I’ve almost come to take for granted with a BIS release, the production values are high. Producer Rachel Smith and engineer David Hinitt have judged the recording beautifully: the balance is ideal and the instruments are reproduced truthfully. I listened to the stereo layer of this SACD and was very satisfied with the results. As I’ve already indicated, Stephen Johnson’s essay is excellent.
This is a disc which will grace any Brahms collection.
John Quinn
