This disc contains very fine performances indeed of Debussy’s
late sonatas, but technical faults render it impossible to recommend
without serious reservations. Two seconds of “dead”
silence have been inserted at two separate points between movements
that are meant to be linked, between the two “Danses”
for harp and strings and, less troubling, between the middle
and final movements of the Cello Sonata. As to the booklet,
apart from the odd translated word or phrase here and there,
its contents are accessible only to those who read French. Recording
details are not given, but the Indésens website tells
us that the sessions took place in 1997. (Most of the performers
were at or near the beginning of their careers when the disc
was originally issued on the Calliope label.) The “Danses”
are accompanied by the string ensemble La Follia, but no conductor
is named. On the other hand, a second pianist, Jean Koerner,
appears in the list of performers, but with no indication of
the pieces in which he plays. His name does not appear in the
disc details on the Indésens website, but YouTube carries
a recording of him playing the Debussy Rhapsody, with Guy Dangain,
the clarinettist on this disc, apparently recorded in 1981.
It is a great pity that such fine performances are carried on
a product so carelessly prepared.
The three sonatas were all composed in the final years of Debussy’s
life - the Violin Sonata was his last completed work - and were
part of a projected set of six left unfinished at the composer’s
death. The Cello Sonata receives an excellent performance here.
Jérôme Pernoo is a fine cellist with a nice singing
tone and plenty of technical skill at his command. It would
be idle to pretend that he has the commanding presence of Rostropovich,
lacking something of the intensity and imagination of that astonishing
player. I think we can be pretty sure that he is accompanied
by Elizabeth Rigollet, and she is very accomplished indeed,
but she cannot rival the extraordinary insight of Benjamin Britten
in that same legendary Decca performance. The present reading
is perfectly satisfying on its own terms, however, though it
is a pity that the cellist’s efforts are too often scuppered
by an unfavourable balance between the two instruments, a problem
particularly troublesome in the finale.
The performance of the Sonata for Flute, Viola and Harp is one
of the finest I have heard. The players choose a dangerously
slow principal tempo for the first movement, but such is their
concentration that it is brilliantly sustained. They are scrupulous
in their respect of the composer’s markings, with nothing
added, no attempt to make more - or less - of the music than
it is. Is there any music more fragile than this? “Musicien
Français” Debussy proudly proclaimed on the title
page of these sonatas, and the combination of fragility - which
has nothing to do with weakness - and indefinable Frenchness
is exactly what comes out in this performance. The recording
is very close, so close that it might have been difficult for
the players to create the right atmosphere of intimacy, whereas,
in fact, they triumph.
The performance of the Violin Sonata is just as satisfying.
There is a certain robustness about this work, even some high
spirits, that set it apart from the other two, but there is
an underlying melancholy too. (Elsa Siffert’s reference,
in her booklet essay, to Shostakovich, of all people, is puzzling.)
It is tempting to hear a valedictory mood in all three of these
works, but only the sonata for violin was composed after it
became clear that Debussy would not recover from the cancer
from which he was suffering. His last appearance in public was
to accompany Gaston Poulet in a performance of this work. It
is, perhaps, not quite so unified as the other two sonatas,
with not quite the same clarity of vision, but this is to make
judgement on an astonishing masterpiece, as all three are without
doubt amongst the finest works the composer produced, the purity
of his art distilled to perfection. Again, these performers
have perfectly understood and assimilated both the letter and
the spirit of the work.
Since my student days I have frequently returned, and always
with the greatest pleasure, to a series of French performances
of these masterpieces on Philips, with Grumiaux and Gendron
in the violin and cello works. I never expected to hear performances
that rivalled them, but these performances by a later generation
of French musicians can be recommended wholeheartedly. The rest
of the programme is minor Debussy, but minor Debussy is major
almost anybody else, and the performances of these other works
are fully worthy of their astonishing composer.
William Hedley