Sharon Bezaly and Ronald Brautigam are two of the brightest
stars in the musical firmament, so BIS are indeed fortunate
to have them on their roster of artists. Bezaly first came to
my attention in Seascapes, but has since caught my ear
in a number of recitals, among them Nordic
Spell and From
A to Z. Paradoxically, hers is a powerful yet unassuming
talent, whereas Brautigam – whose Beethoven sonata series continues
apace – strikes me as a much bigger, more forceful musical personality.
That said, he scales the Mendelssohn piano concertos most beautifully
(review)
qualities I was looking for here as well.
At first glance it’s quite an eclectic selection, but that’s
no bad thing. All too often programmes clustered around broadly
similar repertoire (stylistically at least) are apt to pall
after a while. But three-quarters of a century and several musical
traditions separate the pieces by Carl Reinecke and Francis
Poulenc; the latter’s Sonata gets this disc off to a
promising start. The ‘rolling boil’ of the flute’s opening phrases
– not to mention the seemingly effortless trills – are well
matched by Brautigam’s nicely nuanced pianism. There are no
really extreme dynamics here – well, not unless one counts the
mercurial Presto giocoso – and that, along with
BIS’s warm, well-balanced recording, makes for a most relaxing
listen.
A hugely encouraging start, and a riposte to all those acid
audiophiles who insist that non-DSD Super Audio CDs recorded
at lower bit rates are a compromise too far. Indeed, one would
be hard-pressed to find a better blend of sonic virtues than
those on show here. Swiss composer Frank Martin’s Ballade
is a case in point, the restless murmur of piano and flute at
the start superbly captured. Bezaly’s range and control at both
frequency extremes is just remarkable; high notes are firm and
clear, the lower registers wonderfully liquid, especially in
the solo passage that begins at 3:06. There’s a pleasing sense
of proportion too, and one feels this really is a marriage of
true minds, Brautigam scaling the music’s more rugged terrain
with ease.
Predictably perhaps, Carl Reinecke’s ‘Undine’ sonata
has all the evanescent charm one expects from such fare. And
no, predictable does not mean humdrum; Bezaly conjures up the
lightest, loveliest sounds, building a rainbow bridge under
which the piano part flows most agreeably. But it’s the third
movement, marked Andante tranquillo, where Brautigam
seems to get the upper hand. As seductive as the flute playing
undoubtedly is, I found myself following the pianist more carefully
than before. And just listen to those giddy upward spirals in
the final movement, Brautigam bringing the music back to earth
with a mix of passion and power. As for the restraint and repose
of the closing bars, it’s most sensitively done. No, it isn’t
great music, but when it’s played this well who could possibly
complain?
The soloists shadow each other to great effect in the Martinů
Sonata, a work whose carapace conceals a surprisingly
lyrical centre. Brautigam and Bezaly are very well matched in
the animated first Allegro, the latter’s tone characterised
by an appealing breathiness in the lower registers. As flute
recordings go, this recital really does capture the velvet and
steel duality of the instrument most effectively. Indeed, I
can see this being used as a demonstration disc, especially
when it comes to the long, sustained phrases that round off
the Adagio. As for the piece itself, those who don’t
know it will engage with its easygoing, yet entirely individual,
character. Another nugget in this most desirable pot, and a
piece I will return to with great pleasure.
But it’s Messiaen’s Le merle noir (the blackbird) that’s
the most inspired choice here. For a composer who rejoiced in
the monumental it’s good to be reminded that he is every bit
as persuasive in miniature. And just as Hopkins delighted in
the wonders of The Windhover, so Messiaen’s blackbird
soars and sings above an undergrowth of dark, fleeting dissonances,
Bezaly despatching those microtones and flourishes with great
skill and confidence. Outwardly Le merle noir might seem
a tad austere, but even those who don’t usually warm to Messiaen’s
cooler idiom will surely respond positively to this miraculous
miniature.
So, another imaginative, well-executed offering from BIS. I
have yet to hear the first volume in the series, but if the
present disc is anything to go by it should be on the wish-list
of all those who enjoy the genre. It’s certainly on mine.
Dan Morgan
Sharon Bezaly (flute) 
