Take 3
Francis Poulenc (1899-1963)
L’Invitation au château, FP. 138 – selections (1947)
Bagatelle in D minor for violin and piano, FP. 60c (1932)
Clarinet Sonata, FP. 184 (1962)
Paul Schoenfield (b. 1947)
Trio for clarinet, violin and piano (1990)
Béla Bartók (1881-1945)
Burlesque for violin and piano, Op. 8c, No. 2 (1911) (arr. William Urai)
Contrasts for violin, clarinet and piano, Sz. 111 (1938)
Şerban Nichifor (b. 1954)
Klezmer Dance (2010)
Patricia Kopatchinskaja (violin), Reto Bieri (clarinet), Polina Leschenko (piano),
Ilya Gringolts (violin, Nichifor), Ruslan Lutsyk (double bass, Nichifor)
rec. 2020, Radio SRF, Studio Zürich, Zürich, Switzerland
Alpha Classics 772 [67]
The predecessor of this disc, Take Two (I have not heard it), featured a wide variety of composers, from Orlando Gibbons to Heinz Holliger. Violinist Patricia Kopatchinskaja designed and spearheaded the programme; clarinettist Reto Bieri appeared on three tracks. This issue may be thought of as a companion volume. The range is much smaller: everything comes from the 20th and 21st century. The musicians seem to be having the time of their lives, and are happy to share the fun with us listeners – not that there are no serious reasons to appreciate their music-making.
The thread that holds the whole thing together is the selection from Poulenc’s incidental music to Jean Anouilh’s comedy L’Invitation au château. The numbers act as brief refreshers between the major works on the programme. It makes good sense to treat individually all these morceaux, whether they be a waltz, tango, tarantella or whatever. They are delicious gems, performed here in the style of café or salon music. On an earlier disc (review), Poulenc’s pieces were presented as a three-act suite; I found little cohesion, and they seemed to be taken too seriously. On this programme, Kopatchinskaja, Bieri and pianist Polina Leschenko appear to be enjoying themselves immensely in everything they play, and that is irresistible for the listener.
Of the more substantial pieces on the disc, I find the performers most convincing in Poulenc.
They play their hearts out in the late Clarinet Sonata. The recording is very close and in-your-face. They treat the first movement with much extroversion and variation in tempo. I really like Bieri’s reedy tone. It may lack a bit of the warmth of some other musicians, such as Karl Leister with the Ensemble Wien-Berlin on DG, but compensates in virtuosity. The musicians also bring out the sadness of the slow movement very well, and take the finale at a lick that sounds like terrific fun. In Poulenc’s much earlier, very short Bagatelle, the piano commences noisily with pounding chords, followed by aggressive violin. As Kopatchinskaja and Leschenko play it, however, it is entertaining and really dances.
Another major work here, Paul Schoenfield’s challenging and volatile Trio, gets remarkable treatment by Bieri, Kopatchinskaja and Leschenko. It contains the Jewish folk characteristics, typical of Schoenfield, The four movements are Frehlakh (wild and klezmer-influenced), March (dark and serious), Nigun (beautifully pensive and sensuous, a real contrast to the others), and Kozatske (rhythmic and infectious, very much in the klezmer tradition).
The other key work on the disc, most likely to attract attention, is Bartók’s Contrasts. There have been numerous recordings of this masterpiece since its premiere by Joseph Szigeti, Benny Goodman, and the composer. None I have heard – including one by violinist Annar Follesø, clarinetist Björn Nyman and pianist Christian Ihle Hadland (review) – treat it how these artists do. At times, they distort the work almost beyond recognition, but this is certainly virtuosic. Perhaps they are attempting to take the piece back to its Hungarian folk roots. If so, I think they are only partially successful.
Kopatchinskaja begins the work with a stray plunk, and continues with exaggerated pizzicato. Bieri’s employment of rubato is also exaggerated. It is exciting for sure, but all rather eccentric. On the other hand, I found much to like in the slow movement, a fine example of Bartók’s “night music”. They create a spooky mood, which they build to a huge climax. It is quite effective, and anticipates Ligeti’s music. Then they go bonkers in the finale, apparently to see how fast and vehement they can play. I am glad I heard it once, but will not listen to it often when I want to hear this great piece.
Bartók’s brief Burlesque has been arranged for violin and piano from the piano original. It is more familiar, I would imagine, in his orchestration as Slightly Tipsy, the fourth number of his popular Hungarian Sketches.
The programme concludes with the zaniest of all the selections here, the short Klezmer Dance by Romanian composer and cellist Şerban Nichifor (new to me). The performers are obviously having a ball by talking, “coughing” and warming up before they start to play. The piece is scored for the trio plus a second violin and double bass. This Jewish dance becomes faster and faster, and concludes with a percussive bang that sounds like a shot. Weird, for sure, but an effective encore.
This disc, a must at least for all fans of Kopatchinskaja and company, provides plenty of entertainment. I only wish there was an accompanying video to enhance one’s enjoyment of their antics. Typically, the booklet tells little about the works. Instead, there is a personal note by each of the three artists, including Leschenko’s on growing tomatoes!
Leslie Wright
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