This CD has been in
my collection for some time. The accounts
it offers of Enescu’s two cello sonatas
show commitment to and much enthusiasm
for the music. If one were to go by
opus numbers alone one might think the
two sonatas had been composed in close
proximity – not so. Enescu more than
once paired works of the same type under
the same opus number, even if their
composition was separated by many years.
Unusually, this disc presents the second
sonata as the first to be heard.
This release is notable
for offering the world premiere recording
of the Nocturne and Saltarello,
a short work, known to have been performed
during the first recital of Enescu’s
compositions in Paris during 1897. The
score was long thought lost, but it
came to light again in 1994. Such was
the energy of Enescu’s creative mind
that his many shorter chamber compositions
carry as much to engage both performer
and listener alike that they are worthy
of wider attention than they often receive.
This Nocturne and Saltarello
definitely belongs in that category,
along with a clutch of other works featuring
solo violin, a Concert Allegro
for harp and Cantabile e Presto
for flute and piano (both 1904), Légende
for trumpet and piano (1905) and the
Concert Piece for viola and piano
(1906).
Listening to the Nocturne
you can hear some of Enescu’s mature
musical approaches in the early stages
of their development. Richly lyrical,
this is music that has distinct influences
left by the French compositional school
– he studied under Massenet and knew
Fauré, Ravel amongst others –
yet a youthful love of Brahms also seems
not too distant from his mind. The Saltarello
is made to contrast well in the playing
of de Groote and Spanoghe: they pick
up the tempo and invest it with much
bite and attack. Although folk elements
may be evident in the writing, they
are of Enescu’s making rather than from
authentic sources, and he utilizes them
with a deftly cultured touch.
The first sonata’s
opening movement – marked allegro
molto moderato – is a mixture of
unison playing and closely argued chorale
and fugal writing that betray yet again
a combination of French and Brahmsian
influences. The players bring out the
drive behind the music - derived from
a repeated three-note sequence (F-G-A
flat) - to good effect, and further
succeed in contrasting this with more
introspective passages that also are
founded on the same material. The allegretto
scherzando second movement is full
of inner musical flow between the instruments.
Memories of a Viennese scherzo from
Enescu’s years at the Conservatoire
obviously pervade the music, and the
major-minor harmonics are most delicately
handled. Likewise Brahmsian in character,
the feeling continues into the third
movement. The ruminative quality of
the music is evident in Spanoghe’s deep,
rich cello tone; for the most part de
Groote holds the piano part under a
veil of restraint. The work’s presto
finale is largely classical in form,
with the instruments playing against
each other in a manner that appropriately
draws upon elements from the preceding
movements and builds to a formidably
energetic conclusion. A strength of
this performance is that the music is
performed at a genuine presto tempo
whilst finding inner space for reflective
elements as a seamless part of the whole.
The second sonata,
written 37 years after the first, works
along a very different basis of structure
and enquiry, as its concerns are less
to do with form than with variation
of tonal colour. Indeed, the structure
only begins to come clear some way in,
such is the inventiveness with which
Enescu treats mood as a thematic device.
The first movement’s internal contrasts
are broadly painted with boldness of
line and feeling for nuance; Spanoghe
often observing the minute differences
in tonal shading that Enescu requires.
De Groote is hardly less subtle in his
handling of the piano part. The second
movement is suitably agitato,
following the marked indication, but
it evolves through long lines with emotion
held in restraint to balance passages
of more effusive character.
The third and fourth
movements come as close as Enescu’s
third violin sonata to expressing his
feeling for Romanian folk music, even
though the melodies he employs are his
own. The third movement clearly carries
the atmosphere of a doina in
it; a doina being a melancholic
melody with roots in both speech and
song. Enescu transforms this into a
passage of high art. The final movement,
marked à la roumaine – allegro
sciolto, relies on both Lydian and
pentatonic melodies. It incorporates
glissandi and quarter-tones in the cello
part, whilst the piano is asked to play
‘rustico’ to imitate the sound of a
Romanian ţambal.
As was noted with the earlier works
Enescu’s romantic leanings are also
on display, but here they are firmly
within his own musical language. Spanoghe
and de Groote might not approach the
music with as much instinct as some
– Ilea and Licoreţ on Olympia/Electrecord
or Aneculaesei (see review link below)
– but they are respectful of Enescu’s
many demands and seek to get inside
his idiom with some success.
The sound is full and
forward, though not too much so. The
liner notes are generally informative,
but Fauré is called a "younger
musician", which is clearly inaccurate.
This is a disc that
contains persuasive accounts of all
three works and shows much dedication
to Enescu’s music. Were I after a single
recording of the sonatas for my library
any already mentioned would give pleasure.
Cello sonatas these might be, but it
is unwise to neglect the piano’s contribution
to the whole. The sheer variety of tone
that Donald Sulzen’s instrument brings
to Arte Nova’s budget price release
would make it my first choice, despite
de Groote’s highly nuanced sense of
touch on this Talent disc.
Evan Dickerson
Review of another CD featuring Enescu’s
cello sonatas:
http://www.musicweb-international.com/classrev/2006/Jun06/Enescu_Cello_541149909022.htm
for
details 
Viviane Spanoghe (cello)
