Dmitri SHOSTAKOVICH (1906-1975)
Piano Concerto No 1 in C minor, Op.35 (1933)1 [22:37]
Piano Trio No 2 in E minor, Op 67 (1944)2 [27:15]
Piano Concerto No 2 in F, Op 102 (1957)1 [19:22]
Simon Trpčeski (piano), Janáček Philharmonic Orchestra/Cristian Macelaru1
rec. 12-14 August 2020, Dům kultury mesta Ostravy, Czech Republic 1
Simon Trpčeski (piano), Aleksandar Krapovski (violin), Alexander Somov
(cello)2
rec. 11-12 July 2020, National Music Academy, Sofia, Bulgaria2
Reviewed as downloaded from press preview.
LINN RECORDS CKD659
[69:38]
For an artist so deeply affected by the political climate around him, and
especially for one so able to capture the shifting tides of personal
fortune (or often rather misfortune) with notes on a stave, these three
works represent remarkable snapshots of the most turbulent decades of
Shostakovich’s life.
The first concerto, written shortly before Shostakovich’s first
denunciation in 1936, is everything one might expect from the young,
brilliant composer, filled with sardonic wit, musical quotations and
virtuoso sparkle. Trpčeski and Macelaru introduce a surprising degree of
chamber-like intimacy into the opening passages; the care with which the
first melody is coaxed from the piano and the restraint with which the
orchestra responds in turn is a world away from most extrovert accounts.
This is an interpretation which brings out more of the lyricism of the
Romantic era past than the individuality which Shostakovich pioneered; for
an excellent account of the latter approach, listen to Alexander Melnikov
with Teodor Currentzis and the Mahler Chamber Orchestra (Harmonia Mundi
HMC902104), the unashamedly brittle timbres and rhythms and abrupt tempo
changes taking individuality to an extreme, but to truly masterful effect.
The second movement, done well, is hauntingly beautiful. I mentioned
previously Trpčeski’s care over the tone he elicits from the Steinway
instrument, and that tone pays dividends here – most remarkable is the
weightlessness of the sound in the latter half of the movement,
complemented by the muted trumpet of Andrei Kavalinski in an almost
otherworldly duet. The interplay is excellent, with just that touch of
sympathetic give in tempo; under the superlative work of the two soloists,
one does just wish for a little more shaping from the orchestral
accompaniment. The final two movements exhibit more of the excellent solo
work as seen previously, and the wit and sparkle are certainly brought out,
but the difficulty is, as ever, in drawing the disparate elements of the
finale into a coherent narrative – a little more momentum and direction
would have been appreciated.
Onto the second item in this chronologically arranged disc, and the tone of
the Second Piano Trio clearly betrays the dark turn in the composer’s life
in the past decade, the horrors of the Second World War atop the
ever-present reminder of his own changing fortunes as Stalin tightened his
grip on the country. The opening lament in the cello’s harmonics are glassy
and eerie; as the other instruments join, the haunting beauty of the tune
in fugato, here always played with the utmost attention to tone and
balance, evokes a scene of desolation. As the momentum picks up through the
movement, unease is the unifying factor throughout passages of defiance and
despondency; the performance holds this in abundance whilst never
sacrificing tone.
Shostakovich’s scherzos contain some of his most original content, and the
key to their performance is not to be afraid of making the music sound ugly
– often this is precisely the intended effect and when the music is at its
most powerful. The abrasive and grating tone of the strings, coupled with
the brisk, almost unhinged tempo, sounds every bit the grotesque parody
that it should.
The third movement Passacaglia – beginning funereally, building to a deeply
disturbing climax, followed by a passage of terrifying desolation, this is
music which should not leave the listener settled. The latter section truly
stood out, and I found myself straining, clinging on to every dissonant
pianissimo chord, manipulated masterfully by the trio, each in tune with
each other and the precise balancing act required to evoke maximum
emotional devastation. The final movement, played attacca, begins with a
child-like tune, which is gradually twisted beyond recognition to a climax,
a furious recapitulation of the first movement theme. The listener hears
glimpses of past movements, alternating between rage, mourning and
exhaustion at breakneck speed, before a breakdown of an ending haunted by
the ghosts of the past. Listening to this work through leaves one drained;
if emotional effect is the standard by which music should be judged, this
is composition of the highest order; to say that this performance does the
work justice is high praise indeed.
The Second Piano Concerto, yet another decade on, is once again completely
different in temperament. Oft dismissed, indeed by the composer himself, as
being of ‘no redeeming artistic merit’, and ‘easy listening’ it may be, but
the piece provides a glimpse of Shostakovich’s humour; perhaps still not
entirely content, with the similarity between the first movement and the
Tocsin of the 11th Symphony a reminder of the looming storm
clouds of the Soviet invasion of Hungary, but certainly a shift in tone in
a post-Stalin world.
I prefer the more pointed approach of Melnikov in the first movement;
Trpčeski plays excellently but does not extract the same variety of colour
from the keyboard. However, his care over tone which permeates the rest of
this disc pays dividends in the second movement, where the air of dignified
nostalgia, combined with the grace of the melody, is deeply moving. The
final movement is a show of pianistic fireworks, festivities infused with a
healthy dose of wit – a parody of technical exercises, a joke for his son’s
graduation. Technical brilliance and said wit are certainly provided for in
this performance, with Macelaru and the Janáček Philharmonic bestowing
solid accompaniment throughout.
From these three very different portraits of an extraordinary composer the
trio stands out as an excellent performance of one of Shostakovich’s
finest, underappreciated works.
Colin C.F. Chow
Previous review ~
David McDade (Recording of the Month)