This fourth volume of MDG’s series brings together 
          the alpha and omega of Beethoven’s music for piano trio – the longest 
          and the shortest, the latest and the earliest, the best known and the 
          least known, the greatest and the slightest. You may prefer to have 
          your ‘Archduke’ coupled (more conventionally) with another ‘Ghost’, 
          perhaps, or (more enterprisingly) with its mighty Op 70 counterpart, 
          the E flat, Op 70/2. But this programme affords a fascinating insight 
          into the composer’s stylistic development, and the length and breadth 
          of his genius. 
        
 
        
Forgive me if I break with convention and make mention 
          at the outset of MDG’s outstandingly truthful recording, which is exemplary 
          in its presence, clarity, range and spaciousness. Although the microphones 
          are obviously fairly close to the players – we can easily ‘place’ individual 
          musicians; indeed we can almost feel them – the lovely acoustic 
          provides ample depth and ‘distance’. And the piano (it must be said) 
          is beautifully voiced: its sparkling highs are matched by resonantly 
          weighty lows. 
        
 
        
Trio Parnassus have nothing to fear from these levels 
          of hi-fidelity: they are a most musical team – a most musical 
          team, and a most musical team. I enjoyed their playing enormously: 
          in particular, the cellist’s fabulous singing tone is matched by a rich 
          and gorgeously full bass voice. Although my disappointments with these 
          performances are several in number, they are almost entirely trivial 
          in nature, and in large part come down to personal preference anyway. 
        
 
        
The first movement of the ‘Archduke’ does not drag, 
          as so often happens, mainly because its relaxed cantabile character 
          is (as it ought to be) identified as one of several components, and 
          not the over-arching mood. The group aren’t always in agreement about 
          matters of detail, it seems: the pianist’s slightly mannered rubato 
          into his statement of the second theme, for example, is not echoed in 
          his colleagues’ reply. And I thought their move into the recapitulation 
          rather straight-faced, if not clumsy: admittedly, this isn’t one of 
          Beethoven’s subtlest transitions, but with good (i.e. better) management 
          it can be made into a melting moment. 
        
 
        
The Scherzo is laid back but energetic – precisely 
          the qualities the music demands – and the slippery chromatic links are 
          well managed. 
        
 
        
Fortunately (but unusually) the slow movement is not 
          slow, in line with every indication that Beethoven gives us. I thought 
          the phrases might be made to ‘breathe’ more, with more finishing at 
          cadence points: but perhaps Beethoven’s gentle undulations should be 
          left to speak for themselves? The variations are nicely characterised, 
          their apparently increasing tempo the better for not starting 
          too slow. 
        
 
        
As for the sudden return to a slow tempo and the subsequent 
          meanderings as the door is gradually opened on the finale, I find these 
          a shade literal. This music can be playful, or it can be mysterious, 
          prompting the question "where on earth next…?" Again, it could 
          be said that Trio Parnassus don’t tell you what to think, but rather 
          leave everything out in the open. The comings and goings of the Rondo 
          itself are well captured and manipulated. 
        
 
        
WoO39 appears immature, certainly texturally, after 
          Op 97, but it really does postdate the ‘Archduke’. Written for a 10-year-old 
          pupil, the piano part is deliberately ‘easy’, but the simple dialogue 
          of voices is nevertheless a joy to hear. 
        
 
        
WoO38 is, by contrast, a very early work from his Bonn 
          years. There are three short movements, all them quick or quickish: 
          perhaps the slow movement is lost? Much of the material is charming, 
          and there are occasional daring modulations and unorthodox gearchanges 
          which tell you that a master-to-be is at the helm. 
        
 
        
Hess 48 is nothing more than a short-lived sketch on 
          a dotted rhythmic idea. It comes last on the disc – no grand finale, 
          this! – and I wonder how often we will want to give it our full attention 
          after hearing the masterpiece of nearly 30 years later. I suppose the 
          programming facility on our CD players (I must use it more often…) allows 
          you to do what you want, including rearranging things into chronological 
          sequence. But whatever you do, you get an awful lot of (superficially-) 
          similar-sounding B flat and E flat major here! 
        
 
        
        
Peter J Lawson