Maurice Ravel: Sonate posthume (1897), Tzigane (1924). George Enescu: Impressions d’enfance op. 28 (1940), Violin Sonata No. 3 op. 25 “In the Romanian Folk Character” (1926). Leonidas Kavakos, Péter Nagy. ECM New Series 1824 B0001485-02 (US edition), 476 053-2 (European edition) (2003) 028947605324:
Recorded March 2002, Radio Studio DRS, Zürich, Switzerland
Masterful readings of Enescu’s two masterful compositions
Originally posted on Amazon.com, 15 July 2007, slightly modified for repost
I thought I was fairly knowledgeable in the music of George Enescu, and I had multiple versions of his Violin and Piano Sonatas, including of course his famous 3rd, “Dans le caractère populaire roumain” (in the Romanian Folk Character), one of the composer’s great masterpieces and one of the finest pieces written in the medium in the first 50 years of the 20th century. However, I had never encountered his “Impressions d’Enfance” (Impressions from Childhood) Op. 28 before chancing on this disc. Possibly from its title I had surmised that it was an unsubstantial, trifling piece, maybe of pedagogical intent – and I must not have been the only one to think so, as it had been quite seldom recorded, much less than the 3rd Sonata. It is Gidon Kremer‘s 1996 recording on Teldec 0630-13597-2 (with works of Bartok and Erwin Schulhoff, link will open new tab to my review) that seems to have given the composition a new lease on life. Prior to that, I’ve located only one recording, from 1979, by Stefan and Valentin Gheorghiu – hardly accessible back then, as it was published by the label Electrecord in Communist Romania… It was reissued to CD by the same label, 2 CDs Electrecord EDC 660/661 (2005) 5948205012655.
Anyway, those of us who may have neglected the work based on assumptions, were all erring. It is an absolute masterpiece, of equal stature with the 3rd Sonata. Composed in 1940, in a time of war, and first performed by Enescu himself and Dinu Lipatti at the piano (too bad no recording seems to have been made of that, unlike the Second and Third Violin Sonatas, recorded in 1943 and made available in 1990 on a 2-CD set from Philips “Legendary Classics” series, 426 100-2 barcode 028942610026), “Impressions d’Enfance” is a nostalgic and comforting reflection of the ageing composer (he was turning 60 then) on his childhood, and especially a conjuration of his memories from the famous Gipsy fiddler Nicolas Chioru. It is a suite of 10 pieces playing without break, with evocative titles – “The Strolling Fiddler”, The Old Beggar”, “Brooklet at the Far End of the Garden”, “Bird in Cage and Cuckoo Clock on the Wall”, Lullaby”, “Cricket”, “Moon through the Window Panes”, “Wind in the Fireplace”, “Storm Outside, in the Night”, “Rising Sun” – and the music is descriptive, but it is much more than that: Enesco puts to full use a wide array of incredible Gipsy-inspired violin effects, trills, sul ponticello and ricochet bowing, harmonics, ornate melismatas, while the piano part is thick and showered with grace notes, glissandos and arpeggios, giving it a very “aquatic” texture. Special highlights are “The Strolling fiddler”, appropriately written for unaccompanied violin, first rhapsodic then finishing like a Bach sonata, the “Bird in Cage” with its incredible high-pitched trills and glissandos, the Cricket sound played with saltando bowing, the “Wind in the Fireplace” with its “quasi sul ponticello un poco flautato, non vibrato” playing. It is a journey through the afternoon, evening and night, ending with the rising morning sun in an exultant D major.
Well, since discovering the piece, I’ve caught up, and those who’ve already encountered the Greek violinist Leonidas Kavakos (for instance from his recording of Sibelius’ Violin Concerto and the Concerto’s original version on BIS-CD-500 barcode 7318590005002, link to listing on Discogs.com) will not be surprised that he has an edge over most of the (fine) existing competition – which includes Patrick Bismuth on ZigZag Territories Zebra Collection ZZT 2010801 (link will open new tab to my review), Philippe Graffin on Avie AV2059, and Mihaela Martin on BIS CD-1216 barcode 7318590012161 (review pending) – except perhaps over Kremer (see link above). Not only does Kavakos command an admirable purity of tone and show precise attention to the myriad details of dynamics and tempo, he puts them at the service of wonderful poetry (his old beggar and bird in the cage exude a heart-rending nostalgia and sadness) and sonic imagination (his cricket must be heard to be believed. He doesn’t just play “saltando” as Enesco instructs but – like Kremer – adds to that a pinched sound that brings wonderful color and character). Only in the “Brooklet” do I find that he and Nagy are markedly less evocative than Kremer and Maisenberg, whose eerie harmonics and hazy piano ripples work wonders, and the sul ponticello effect of the “Wind in the Fireplace”, as fine as it is, is simply no match to the eerie and terrifying sounds Kremer pulls out of his fiddle. Kavakos finds in pianist Péter Nagy an equal partner. But ECM must be chided for not cuing the various movements of the suite, making it sometimes difficult, without a score, to know when the new evocation starts.
Kavakos and Nagy also turn out a fine reading of the Third sonata, marked by its very spacious pacing (compare Kavakos to Enescu himself, in his 1943 recording with Dinu Lipatti referenced above, or to Yehudi Menuhin‘s premiere recording of the piece in 1936, EMI Références 5 65962 2: 9:39 to respectively 7:24 and 7:58 in the 1st movement, 9:41 to 7:26 and 8:21 in the 2nd). The approach highlights the brooding and quasi neurasthenic side of the first movement, even in its more playful moments. Kavakos’ non vibrato harmonics in the second movement have a mesmerizing, other-worldly quality and the broad tempo makes the music a moving meditation (but not quite the hauntingly obsessive nightmare evoked by Ami Flammer and Jean-Claude Pennetier, at an even slower tempo, in their 1988 recording for the small French label Thésis, THC 82017 barcode 3345280820175, review pending), though the center part, with its virtuoso Gispsy high-pitched chirping, has plenty of dash. Kavakos’ tone remains admirably fleshy even in the big climaxes, here and in the finale. The latter, taken at a basic tempo very similar to Enescu’s own, has the strong pulse and appropriate flavor of a Rumanian rustic dance. Throughout Kavakos displays admirable imagination in his rendition of the myriad articulation and expression details minutely written down by Enescu.
This reading may not display the same kind of daring personality as Sherban Lupu (1985, Continuum CCD 1003 with Solo Violin Sonatas of Bartok and Ysaye, no barcode, review pending), Patrick Bismuth (see link above) or Patricia Kopatchinskaja (“Rapsodia”, on Naïve V 5193 barcode 822186051931, my review on Amazon.com pending repost) but neither does it have their excesses. Though stylistically situated on an opposite pole, it is in its own way as classically poised as the superb 1967 account of Isaac Stern (in “Isaac Stern A Life In Music” vol. 27 with Sonatas of Franck and Debussy, Sony SMK 64 532).
The inclusion of Ravel’s Tzigane as a filler makes sense stylistically, even if it doesn’t amount to a program as coherent as Mihaela Martin’s all-Enescu recording on Bis (she adds the Second Violin-Piano Sonata, see link above). Kavakos plays Tzigane with big tone, passion and expression but also discipline – many fiddlers get so carried away with the Gypsy niceties of Tzigane that they forget the importance of that quality, and that it is the prim Ravel who wrote the piece, not a Gipsy. On headphones though Kavakos’ breathing is a minor nuisance in the introductory cadenza. I have no particular insight on the interpretation of Ravel’s youthful Violin Sonata, and I’ll just take it as a welcome bonus to the whole disc.
See my Enescu introductory page for discographic tips and links.