Alexander Scriabin (1872-1915) was born just one year
before fellow pianist-composer, Rachmaninov, with whom he also studied at the
Moscow Conservatory. Of course
Rachmaninov outlived Scriabin by many years, but also Scriabin’s music quickly
went in a much more dissonant and individual direction than the ostensibly more
accessible and tonal music of his contemporary.
Scriabin was fascinated by synesthesia (where people ‘see’ sounds as
colours, for example). Whilst it is
unlikely that he was actually synesthetic himself, it had a strong influence on
his harmonic theory, together with a fascination with mysticism and
theosophy. Consequently, his music can
be hard to make immediate sense of, but then as his ten Piano Sonatas demonstrate, once you join his soundworld, there is
much to reward your attention. Peter Donohoe remarkably performs all
ten sonatas in a single concert (well over two hours of music). There is a lot to be said for hearing all ten
in sequence, as they amply demonstrate the composer’s progression through the
21 years of their composition, and the building complexity of his style draws
you in. In the first four sonatas, he
alternated between a four-movement structure and his more favoured two-movement
form of a slow/fast combination. From
the fifth sonata onwards, he used a single movement, although often still
following that slow/fast pattern. The
first sonata was written when he was 20, when he had damaged his right hand
from over-practising virtuosic works, and thought it was the end of his
performing career. It is moody and dark,
with a funeral march as its finale, already looking forward from its
Chopinesque roots. A freer second
sonata, inspired by his first sight of the sea in Latvia, is followed by the
deeper, soul-searching third, with its chromatic lines and turbulent mood. The Wagnerian harmonies of the fourth are
almost jazz-like and improvisatory in places, and the fifth has an incredibly
passionate climax, with hammering chords.
By the sixth sonata, conventional tonality is almost gone, and the
mysterious harmonies are deeply unsettling – even Scriabin found it
‘frightening’ and wouldn’t play it in public.
The ‘White Mass’ nickname of the seventh builds on the combination of
weighty textures, contrasted with extensive use of rippling trills. The eighth is more anxious than overtly
turbulent, which Donohoe brings out well, with some almost skittish, impetuous
passages, before disappearing away to nothing. The ninth, ‘Black Mass’, is full
of ‘satanic’ tri-tones and chromatic scales, whereas the final sonata, which he
described as his ‘sonata of insects’, is full of light and radiance. This two-disc set is rounded off by one of
Scriabin’s last works from the year before his death. ‘Vers la Flamme’ is his representation of
rising heat, growing from nothing to brilliance, with the heat of the sun
eventually destroying the world. So, a
mammoth range here, and Donohoe takes us on a wild journey through these highly
individual works. The weight of his
playing, particularly in the rapturous seventh, as well as his anxious filigree
in the eighth, and the full-on romantic flourishes of the fourth and fifth amply
demonstrate his phenomenal range. The
virtuosic command on show here is almost forgotten as the depth of his
performances of these dark and complex works engulfs you.
German
mezzo-soprano Gerhild Romberger,
together with pianist Alfredo Perl,
has recorded three of Gustav Mahler’s (1860-1911) most well-known song
cycles. Most of the songs present here
are better known in their orchestrated versions, so it is good to hear them in
this form. One might assume the piano
versions came first, but in fact some were written after the orchestrated
versions. Here we have the Rückert-Lieder, the Kindertotenlieder (also with texts by
Friedrich Rückert), and the Lieder eines
fahrenden Gesellen (‘Songs of a Wayfarer’).
Romberger has a rich mezzo voice, well suited for Mahler, and can
regularly be heard in performances of the symphonies, appearing several times
at the Proms. Her full tones are
demonstrated in ‘Blicke mir nicht in die Lieder’ from the Rückert-Lieder, yet
in the first of this set, ‘Liebst du um Schönheit’, his private piece for Alma
and the only one he didn’t orchestrate himself, the tender lifts to the high
notes have great poise. Romberger gives
a heartfelt performance of ‘Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen’, although perhaps
a little over controlled for this desperate plea. The ‘Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen’ have
strong links with the first symphony, the rustic ‘Ging heut morgen…’ and the melancholic
‘Die zwei blauen Augen’ both appearing there.
However, it is in the third song here, ‘Ich hab’ ein glühend Messer’,
that Romberger gives full vent, with wild anguish and high drama. In the heartfelt Kindertotenlieder, which
draw on some of the 428 poems Rückert wrote following the death of his two
children, Romberger again shows great control in the rising lines of ‘Nun seh’
ich wohl’, and pianist Perl has the opportunity to shine in the first song of
the cycle. Overall, this is a commanding
set, and Romberger and Perl present a strong argument for these pared down
versions of Mahler’s finest songs.
The Doric String Quartet has released their
second CD of String Quartets by Franz Schubert (1797-1828). Following on from the success of the
first, they remain in the later reaches of Schubert’s string quartet output, pairing
the wonderful ‘Quartettsatz’, D703, a
single movement of his projected but unfinished twelfth quartet, with his final
String Quartet in G major, D887. In the Quartettsatz, the Dorics open with
glassy determination, giving this miniature masterpiece great clarity and
energy. The final String Quartet in
contrast comes it at over fifty minutes, and is a mighty challenge. Again, the Dorics attack this with high
energy, intensity and precision throughout.
There is high drama here, and despite the G major key, Schubert shifts
between major and minor right at the start, highlighting the conflicting moods
that run throughout the work. The Dorics
give the frequent tremolandi an edge of anxiety, and the slow movement is dark
and mournful. It is only in the Trio of
the Scherzo that follows that there is any sense of calm, and the players
relish the successive duet writing here.
But the finale dashes all this to one side, and in its relentless race
to the finish, the players never lose attention to detail, whilst maintaining
impressive intensity and energy to the last.
Catch them in the Brighton Festival, playing Haydn, Brahms & Adams
(26 May).
Schubert, F. 2017. String Quartet in G major, String Quartet in C minor 'Quartettsatz'.
(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, April 2017)
(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, April 2017)
