It is small wonder that so many pianists have chosen to include
in their repertoire, and record, Janáček’s piano music.
There is something hugely expressive and deeply emotional about
it that pianists obviously relate to and relish the opportunity
to convey. The sonata 1.X.1905, also known by its subtitle From
the Street, was written as a direct result of an incident
in which Janáček himself was involved. On that day there
was a demonstration in Brno - capital of Moravia, now the Czech
Republic, but then part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire - by
some German speakers and their supporters. This was against
the proposed establishment of a Czech university in the town
and, naturally, there was a counter demonstration. During this
demonstration a young Czech joiner Frantiek Pavlík, was
bayoneted by Austrian troops. Janáček, who observed this
from the town’s meeting house and later attended Pavlík’s funeral,
along with 10,000 others, was so moved by the event that he
felt compelled to express his horror in music which had its
premičre in January 1906.
We are lucky that the pianist who gave that premičre had the
presence of mind to keep a copy of it since Janáček was
dissatisfied and threw it into the Vltava river, having previously
burned a third movement prior to its first performance. Something
I believe is key to interpreting the Janáček works on this
disc is the correct pace and tempo and knowing just how long
a pause to leave on occasions. In the sonata Ivana Gavric has
these aspects absolutely nailed making her performance nigh
on perfect. In his piano music Janáček shows his mastery
at reflecting the most heart-wrenching despair and all pervasive
sadness. When the pianist is able to convey that too the experience
is truly profound. This is an example of just that. The final
note of Death which represents the moment when that occurs
is really telling, being cut off from the completion of the
phrase. Janáček’s On an overgrown path gradually
grew, firstly following a request from fellow music teacher
Josef Vávra for ‘the most beautiful Slavonic melodies harmonized
in an easy style’. Janáček responded with an offer of six
pieces he described as ‘moods’. These were written for harmonium
and only later transcribed for piano. The six pieces were later
given titles . Apart from the Piu mosso, which was not
published in his lifetime but later became the first of the
three pieces making up his Paralipomena, they remain
as parts of the cycle of ten pieces known as On an overgrown
path (Book One). The first five are descriptive of childhood
memories. The next four represent his crushing grief at the
death of his daughter Olga aged 21 in 1903. Janáček wrote
to a musicologist friend about number 8 Unutterable anguish,
saying ‘perhaps you will sense the weeping in it’. It is testimony
to his ability to describe such emotions in music that you certainly
can sense the tears. The tenth piece, which he had written before
his daughter’s death, is entitled The Barn Owl has not flown
away. It is inspired by a Moravian folk tale which says
that if a barn owl - in another recording it’s translated as
a tawny owl! - perches outside a window and screeches, but cannot
be driven away, then someone in the house will die. On my Supraphon
vinyl record of Ivan Klánský playing these pieces the translation
is perhaps more descriptive as The bird of ill omen lingers.
In any event it is a tragically apt piece with which to end
the section portraying this terrible event in his life.
As with the sonata Gavric has the pace absolutely correct and
the spaces between notes are finely measured. This makes for
a quite thrilling musical experience and helps confirm these
short pieces as sublime works for the piano, especially so in
this case.
Following what is a really emotional, not to say harrowing,
listen to the pieces describing Janŕček’s unbearable anguish
at the loss of his daughter Ravel’s Valses nobles et sentimentales
come as a relief. Gavric shows she can reflect light as well
as darkness though her forte is quite clearly most powerfully
expressed in a sombre sound-world. It is interesting that these
Valses were published in 1911 the same year Janŕček
brought out his first completed book of On an overgrown path.
Indeed Prokofiev began writing his second piano sonata only
a year later. Gavric cleverly highlights the similarities between
the works all of which require a subtlety in timing which she
brings with consummate ease. Ravel was born 21 years after Janŕček
and Prokofiev 16 years after Ravel. This shows in their more
modern approach to their compositions. Despite the dates they
were published being almost identical Janŕček’s writing
clearly belongs to the previous century. Ravel’s more experimental
sound is of the new 20th century. Prokofiev’s
belongs firmly in the 20th century and could easily
have been composed at least twenty or more years later. It is
very modern in its sound. Prokofiev was a mere 21 when he wrote
it, shortly after his first piano concerto was premičred. The
playing here is again beautifully paced and with the necessary
power. The first movement is particularly impressive as is the
slow movement which is full of gentle delicacy superbly phrased.
The last is a real whirlwind of cascading notes which make the
abrupt end really telling. I hope she explores his music further.
The whole disc is a real joy which I expect to go back to very
often. I shall be looking out most keenly for Ivana Gavric’s
next disc and if it’s anything like as good as this one it’ll
be well worth waiting for!
Steve Arloff