|
|
alternatively
CD: MDT
AmazonUK
AmazonUS
Sound
Samples & Downloads |
Gabriel FAURÉ
(1845-1924)
Romance, Op. 69 (1894) [3:07]
Cello Sonata No. 1 in D minor, Op. 109 (1917) [19:25]
Elegy, Op. 24 (1880) [5:58]
Cello Sonata No. 2 in G minor, Op. 117 (1921) [16:31]
Serenade, Op. 98 (1908) [2:47]
Papillon, Op. 77 (1898) [2:44]
Berceuse, Op. 16 (1880) [3:13]
Piano Trio in D minor, Op. 44 (1880) [19:24]
Eric Le Sage (piano), François Salque (cello), Paul Meyer
(clarinet)
rec. March 2011, Auditorium MC2, Maison de la Culture de Grenoble.
DDD
ALPHA 600 [67:11]
|
|
This handsomely produced disc is the first of a five volume
series of the complete chamber music of Gabriel Fauré.
The pianist Eric Le Sage and cellist François Salque
play Fauré’s two cello sonatas and five of his
salon pieces. These artists are then joined by the clarinettist
Paul Meyer to perform the Trio, Op. 120, as a clarinet trio
rather than the piano trio format in which it is usually performed.
The liner-notes suggest that playing it in this instrumentation
points up Fauré’s kinship with the Germanic rather
than the French musical tradition. I found this an interesting
observation, given that his mood often recalls the more introspective
of Brahms’ late piano works. This generously-filled and
very well played disc shows the extent of Fauré’s
achievement as a chamber music composer, and the way his music
wears both romantic and modern masks.
The Romance, Op. 69, was originally written for cello and organ;
the piano version goes a step up-tempo, from Andante
to Andante quasi allegretto. This work is played with
great expertise by Salque and Le Sage, opening with a lovely
purr from the cello’s bass strings. Salque gets a chance
to show off his fine legato playing, and he and Le Sage perform
affectionately, without trying to make it sound more than the
very superior salon music that it is.
The first Sonata begins with the tempo marking of Allegro
deciso, in an unusually assertive vein for Fauré;
I was reminded of the Shostakovich Cello Sonata. The slow movement
features a searching theme for cello over sparse accompaniment.
The midsection winds upwards in chromatic steps in a manner
that is typical of Fauré’s melodies. The finale
moves from a tentative-sounding start to an almost mystical
level of exultation. Like most of Fauré’s later
style, there is a sense of continuous flow from ostinato semiquaver
figures; here it seems to anticipate minimalism. Salque and
Le Sage shape the phrases with great care and wide dynamic range;
they render the ceaseless shifts in feeling with the utmost
sensitivity.
The Second Cello Sonata is a less outgoing work than its predecessor.
It opens with a theme that has a characteristically narrow compass;
this movement - along with many other tracks - show Fauré’s
skill in elaborating small motifs into larger structures. The
second movement is a transcription of an early Chant funéraire
for wind band, and retains the repeated chordal accompaniment
characteristic of a funeral march. The finale begins with rapid,
rather Schumann-esque figures in the piano, while the second
subject is less extraverted. Salque and Le Sage give this work
a wonderfully responsive performance that shows their secure
and intuitive partnership.
While writing the Trio, Op. 120, in 1922, Fauré referred
to it as a trio for violin or clarinet, piano and cello. He
then appeared to abandon the alternative clarinet version, completing
the work the following year as a piano trio. Le Sage and Salque
feel that the original conception of the work justifies its
being performed as a clarinet trio, and they are joined for
this purpose by Paul Meyer. I felt that Meyer’s first
entry was tonally a little too bright; however, he soon blends
successfully with the other parts, and one becomes accustomed
to hearing a reed instrument in the ensemble. The first movement
is dominated by a theme based on the tonic arpeggio; it has
an economy that marks it as one of Fauré’s most
masterful. The slow movement opens in a typically not quite
untroubled mood; this develops into an intense episode in which
the clarinet and cello play, in unison, a lamenting theme that
winds upwards in remorseless chromatic steps. The finale is
more animated, with a questioning theme on clarinet and cello
drawing an answering fusillade of semiquavers from the piano.
This is contrasted with a chorale-like theme on the clarinet
and cello; the discussion of these episodes concludes with an
exultant coda. Meyer is a sensitive player who combines well
with Le Sage and Salque in this version of the Trio. I personally
prefer the original scoring of this Trio; even a player as good
as Meyer has to breathe occasionally, and this breaks the phrases
up more than a bow change on a violin. Nonetheless, this is
a very persuasive performance that shows a familiar masterpiece
in a new light.
Between the Second Cello Sonata and the Trio, Salque plays three
of Fauré’s shorter pieces for cello and piano:
the Serenade, Op. 98, Papillon, Op. 77, and the early Berceuse,
Op. 16. These little pieces all show Fauré’s skill
at creating atmosphere and spinning out melodies, and the performances
are admirable in every respect. Salque does not have a huge
sound, but produces it easily, with an attractively rich tone,
particularly on his lower strings. Credit should also go to
Le Sage for his skills as an accompanist, adroitly managing
Fauré’s continuous semiquaver writing so that it
never sounds monotonous. The recording is quite close, but free
from grunts or other extraneous noises; the sound picture has
natural warmth, and is well balanced.
Paul Tortelier and Eric Heidsieck recorded the Fauré
sonatas in the 1960s; these have become classic accounts. The
rapport between the two has the confidence of a long partnership,
and Tortelier sounds as if he has this music in his blood. After
hearing the Salque performances I noticed a more nasal and resinous
character to Tortelier’s sound, and felt that Salque produced
his upper register a little more easily. The timings are similar,
except for the finale of the first sonata, which Tortelier got
through in 5:24 as against 7:40 for Salque; this is probably
due to the latter observing a repeat which Tortelier did not.
Jean-Philippe Collard, Augustin Dumay and Frédéric
Lodéon recorded the Trio Op. 120 in 1976 or 1977 in its
familiar piano trio version. Their approach is more romantic,
even abandoned, than on the Alpha disc; the long crescendo in
the slow movement is taken very gradually. The finale in particular
draws some patches of unattractive tone from Dumay, and he and
Lodeon’s bow changes can be rather heavy. This performance
has a great deal of conviction, but with twenty-five recordings
currently available from Arkiv, there are probably smoother
sounding accounts to be had.
Guy Aron
|
|