Ludwig van BEETHOVEN (1770-1827)
  Cello Sonata No. 1 in F major, Op. 5 No. 1 [24:30]
  Cello Sonata No. 2 in G minor, Op. 5 No. 2 [26:12]
  Cello Sonata No. 3 in A major, Op. 69 [28:10]
  Cello Sonata No. 4 in C major, Op. 102 No. 1 [15:33]
  Cello Sonata No. 5 in D major, Op 102 No. 2 [19:41]
  	  DuoLeonore (Maja Weber (cello); Per Lundberg (piano))
  rec. 9-12 December 2013, 27-30 January 2014 Ref. Kirche, Seon, Switzerland
  SOLO MUSICA SM210 [78:52 + 35:14]
	    In one respect cellists might appear to have the best deal 
          where Beethoven is concerned. Orchestral conductors have his epic nine 
          symphonies to contend with, pianists the monumental thirty-two piano 
          sonatas, and even violinists aren’t let off lightly with the composer’s 
          ten works with piano. So having just five sonatas for cello and piano 
          and a few sets of variations to play might, on paper, seem far more 
          attractive a proposition, and eminently more manageable to deal with.
          
          As far as recordings go, an average dealer’s catalogue will probably 
          include over forty CDs, ranging from complete sets of the Cello Sonatas, 
          the Sonatas and Variations together, some instances where the piano 
          is replaced by a fortepiano, to a number of individual discs featuring 
          just two or three selected sonatas at a time, or perhaps coupled with 
          a compatible work from another composer.
          
          Even discounting all the latter CDs above, it’s still a pretty 
          competitive and extensive market where sets of the Five Cello Sonatas 
          on their own are concerned. Not only that, but most, if not all the 
          great cellists for many decades, together with their choice of equally-talented 
          pianist, have all made their mark here, starting with one of the earliest, 
          yet arguably still one of the greatest collaborations ever, that of 
          Mstislav Rostropovich and Sviatoslav Richter back in the heady vinyl 
          days of 1963. This is followed very closely, both chronologically and 
          in depth of perception by Pierre Fournier and Wilhelm Kempff two years 
          later. Although the remit of this present review is not to come up with 
          the definitive all-time No. 1 choice, it would be wrong not to list 
          here some other fine recordings since the late 1960s, by Isserlis and 
          Levin, Casals and Horszowski, Du Pré and Barenboim, Muller-Schott and 
          Hewitt, Onczay and Jandó and Maisky and Argerich – and still more 
          besides.
          
          Duo Leonore – Maja Weber and Per Lundberg – has been playing 
          chamber music together for more than twenty years, mostly in piano quartets 
          and quintets, so the idea of forming a duo was a natural outcome. The 
          subsequent choice of name – Leonore – reflects the duo’s 
          feel for passion in artistic expression, something which Beethoven’s 
          music particularly exemplifies. For Weber and Lundberg, Leonore, heroine 
          of his opera Fidelio, seems the perfect antagonist and example.
          
          That their first CD release together should be the German master’s 
          Five Cello Sonatas comes, therefore, as no surprise in one respect. 
          Equally it's the boldest of choices, considering that there’s 
          more opposition out there already than perhaps for any other mainstream 
          works in the repertoire. Such opposition is arguably from all the greatest 
          exponents of their generation for the last fifty years or more.
          
          Performing the sonatas and especially the early ones on a modern concert-grand 
          piano can additionally throw up all sorts of balance problems that would 
          not have existed in Beethoven’s time. Playing them on a fortepiano 
          can bring the listener much closer to the sound-world the composer knew. 
          Indeed, following the practice of his time, Beethoven actually called 
          his cello-piano duos ‘Sonatas for Piano and Cello’, and 
          not the reverse. Even those pianists who are also soloists in their 
          own right, always seem to show sufficient deference to the cello soloist, 
          regarding the works as sonatas for piano and cello, but on at least 
          an equal footing. This tends, therefore, to negate, somewhat, any advantage 
          or indeed disadvantage of using a fortepiano.
          
          Many CD collections may already include a set of the Cello Sonatas, 
          so the task facing Duo Leonore is either to convince those existing 
          owners perhaps to try another, chronologically-newer examination of 
          the works, or to entice new collectors to choose Duo Leonore’s 
          set over the rest of the opposition – quite a daunting proposition 
          either way.
          
          Returning briefly to the opening paragraph, unlike the symphonies, piano 
          or violin sonatas, there is just no way that all the works in their 
          respective genres could ever be programmed at one single sitting, with 
          just one interval. The Cello Sonatas can be programmed in this way, 
          and there is a real difference in including just one or two in a recital, 
          than all five as a dedicated single-work event. Collectively they represent 
          each of Beethoven’s three major creative periods – in fact 
          rather like a biopic of his life, through his music.
          
          So one key point in appraising any set of all five sonatas is to feel 
          that both players can present each work within its historical context 
          in Beethoven’s creative life, as well as part of an organically-developing 
          process – in a sense rather like tackling Beethoven’s three 
          piano sonatas in his favourite key of C minor (Op. 10 No. 1 – 
          Op. 13 (Pathétique) – Op. 111); yes, the tonality might be the 
          same, but Op. 13 and particularly Op. 111 are light-years apart.
          
          A second and very important point is that the playing from both performers 
          should seek to create that same sense of evolution. It should reflect 
          the stamina needed to play all five works in one programme, even where 
          the recording might be achieved over a number of days – the kind 
          of vital continuity to be expected in any feature film, if credibility 
          is to be maintained.
          
          Finally there must be a real sense of wanting to record all five Sonatas 
          for their intrinsic value and musical integrity, rather than it just 
          being a mountain that any self-respecting climber would feel obliged 
          to have under his belt.
          
          Just put on the start of Sonata No. 1 in F major – a 
          work written at a time when the composer was forging a career for himself 
          as a virtuoso pianist in 1796, when he was just 25 years old, and not 
          yet suffering from the deafness that would later transform his whole 
          existence. There’s not yet a great deal here in this short slow 
          introduction to make you sit back and take notice, but as the ensuing 
          Allegro kicks in, things definitely start to happen from both 
          players. This and the second sonata are real concert-pieces, full of 
          novel instrumental effects for the time and clearly still more orientated 
          towards the piano, which is surely happy to get the lion’s share 
          of the virtuoso action, leaving the cello contented to investigate some 
          high registers at time. Things really take off, though, with the first 
          sonata’s exhilarating Rondo-Finale, and nowhere more 
          so than in its short and rapid conclusion.
          
          Once again Sonata No. 2 in G minor opens with a slow introductory 
          movement, this time far more substantial than its predecessor, but where 
          Weber and Lundberg easily hold the listener’s attention throughout, 
          until the following Allegro starts. Here they wisely conserve 
          their efforts so that, when the closing rondo begins, it by no means 
          appears an anti-climax, despite its simple, yet rustic main theme.
          
          The Sonata No. 3 in A major is a different animal altogether, 
          which Beethoven worked on between 1806 and 1808, by which time his deafness 
          was acute, if not quite complete. In his Heiligenstadt Testament, written 
          in 1802, the composer admitted he had harboured suicidal thoughts, yet 
          this sonata, in common with several other pieces from the same period, 
          seems unnervingly positive in attitude, the work radiating serenity, 
          humour and joy from the very first bar; shades of Schubert come to mind 
          here when in a similar mind-set some few years later. For the first 
          time cello and piano appear on equal terms, and here Beethoven has ensured 
          that each theme fits both instruments like a glove – in fact the 
          emergence of an essentially new genre. That is not to say that virtuosity 
          is never far away. The pair perfectly recreate the gruff humour of the 
          second-movement before giving a quite sublime reading of the short but 
          emotionally-charged Adagio cantabile, arguably one of many 
          little jewels on the CD. This leads seamlessly into the crisply-articulated 
          finale, where bravura moments are finely contrasted with those of gentle 
          repose, before reaching the joyous conclusion.
          
          Beethoven’s ‘late’ period is generally considered 
          to have begun around 1815, meaning that the final two sonatas on the 
          CD – Op. 102 Nos. 1 and 2 – would be among the first pieces 
          in this final group of masterpieces. They are both significantly shorter 
          than their predecessors, since everything is now far more concentrated, 
          and where mere gesture is kept to a bare minimum. Thematically, for 
          example, in the Sonata No. 4 in C major, virtually the whole 
          sonata develops organically from the unpretentious two-bar phrase that 
          opens the work. The key reverts to C major – often considered 
          a ‘basic’ key because of the absence of necessary accidents, 
          but one which sits perfectly with the cello, its two bottom open strings 
          being C and G respectively – the tonic (1st note) and 
          dominant (5th note) of the C major scale. If the challenge 
          of the first two sonatas was virtuosity, the third homogeneity, then 
          perhaps the fourth and fifth would be intellectual approach, and especially 
          so in the respective finales, where counterpoint is much more to the 
          fore, along with some strangely enigmatic moments at times.
          
          In the Sonata No. 5 in D major, Beethoven returns to the earlier 
          three-movement design, and, for the first time, writes a full-length 
          slow movement, and one which must surely rank amongst the best of its 
          kind in the repertoire. Here the players show great spiritual empathy 
          with the music in a truly lovely performance which never once loses 
          momentum, ending quite sublimely, before launching into the fugal finale. 
          Despite the academic nature of the beast, Weber and Lundberg can clearly 
          be heard enjoying every note, while finely pointing and dynamically 
          balancing each fugal entry or reference – great erudition allied 
          with an over-arching sense of performance, all culminating in a taut 
          yet succinctly-argued close.
          
          So does this new release by Duo Leonore actually hit the spot – 
          or each of three spots, to be more precise, mentioned above?
          
          It certainly ticks all the boxes as far as presenting each of the Five 
          Sonatas as part of a developing musical context, rather than as mere 
          separate pieces. The playing and artistic approach audibly reflect the 
          period of the composer’s life when each work first appeared.
          
          Secondly there is a clear sense that even if these five works weren’t 
          recorded in one sitting – effectively there’s over a month’s 
          gap between each three-day recording session – the players have 
          skilfully appeared to ‘age’ each performance to achieve 
          this effect. It should also be noted here that while the superb playing 
          from both performers is virtually faultless throughout, if there is, 
          for example, the very tiniest occasional intonation blemish, this has 
          been left in the performance, but never obtrusive enough to trouble 
          the listener. This helps to create, in effect, all the advantages of 
          a ‘live’ performance, but equally without any of its disadvantages 
          – something which gives a unique cutting-edge to what we hear.
          
          As for the final point, whether it be in the spirited youthfulness of 
          the first two sonatas, the considered maturity of the third work, or 
          the quite individual sound-world and overall conception of the final 
          two sonatas, there can be absolutely no doubt that Weber and Lundberg 
          are simply enjoying every minute of what they’re doing. This is 
          irrespective of the emotional, intellectual or purely physical demands 
          of the music at the time.
          
          We will all have our favourite exponents for each musical genre we listen 
          to and in many cases these will perhaps be artists we have grown up 
          knowing over many years. Consequently if you already have your favourite 
          pairing of Beethoven’s Cello Sonatas, you may or may not be tempted 
          to add this contemporary new take to your collection. If you’ve 
          yet to commit to a version for yourself, you could certainly do no better 
          than making this version by Duo Leonore your first choice. It may not 
          be quite up there at the very pinnacle – remember, it’s 
          competing with a virtual Who’s Who of Cellists over many years 
          - but equally it can’t be very far from the summit either.
          
          The recording is simply first-rate, with Steinway Grand and Stradivari 
          Cello Bonamy Dobree (1717) captured to absolute perfection right across 
          the full dynamic and pitch range. The extensive booklet is comprehensive, 
          though perhaps more anecdotal and factual than analytical and academic.
          
          In every respect a highly-desirable new look at Beethoven’s definitive 
          works for cello and piano, and something which very definitely whets 
          the appetite for more to come from this highly-accomplished and dynamic 
          duo. It is also available on a double vinyl.
          
           
          Philip R Buttall