The business of expanding and contracting scores by Shostakovich
seems quite a healthy one. We’ve had string quartets made
into chamber concertos, Symphony no.15 reduced to a quintet
(DG 449 966-2, also with Kremer), and now the two great,
late sonatas for violin and viola having been blown up into
concertos with accompaniment by string orchestra and percussion.
Knowing and loving these pieces as I do in their original
form, I wasn’t prepared to be instantly wowed by the concept
or the execution – Kremer, Bashmet and Baltica were always
going to have to convince me, one way or another.
This world premiere recording of this orchestrated Violin
Sonata announces itself with one of Shostakovich’s
most open and sparing musical statements. With the piano
substituted for strings one has to get used to the difference – the
lack of attack, however gentle, which gives the piano that
wandering, searching quality against the solo violin. Zinman’s
strings are given some sostenuto flexibility, imitating
the sustaining pedal on a piano. I miss the contrast between
the sustained solo line and independently meandering piano,
but with the ear adjusting we are soon permitted some variety,
with subtle touches of the triangle, and some gentle rhythmic
emphasis through pizzicato in the lower strings. It didn’t
take long: about halfway and I was already forgetting my
mental A/B comparisons of the different versions. There
will always be a moment where recognition and expectation
becomes transplanted, and in the end the only danger is
losing sight of the origins of such a work.
Opinions will differ, but whatever your own personal conclusions,
there can be no doubting the musical commitment of the Kremerata
Baltica. Gidon Kremer is of course a master in this music,
defining the material in narrative terms, moving us with
chilling tears or urging us into action with passionate passagework
or rhythmic grit. The orchestra is a fairly sizeable 7.6.5.4.2.
line-up, but never sounds unwieldy in this piece. The second Allegretto movement
has some superb touches in the orchestration, with repeated
pizzicato chords highlighted by a tuned woodblock, and other
important moments similarly emphasised. There is no over-egging
of the pudding however, and the percussion is always servant
to the music. The final Largo has grand gestures which
suit orchestral treatment well. Again, my ear wanted those
probing piano notes which arrive to support the solo violin’s
pizzicati, but pizzicato lower strings in the orchestra will
do as well, and the subsequent passacaglia variations build
nicely. Simple string writing and restrained playing throw
up unexpectedly classical sounding chorale-like moments – if
it wasn’t Shostakovich it would be Frank Martin. A beautifully
atmospheric world is created to which you will want to return – guaranteed.
With the return of the passacaglia after the soloist’s cadenza
my only concern was that it might be too triumphant. The
empty soulfulness which Shostakovich preserves throughout
this piece soon returns however, as the grand theme deflates
and withdraws – introverted to the end.
Shostakovich’s last work, the Viola Sonata Op.147,
has fewer pianistic associations for me, but even so in the
opening I found myself occasionally disorientated by notes
which sustain rather than decay, and which emanate rather
than chime. I found myself missing the percussion as well,
and you realise what a clarifying effect it can have with
judicious use. There is a fair bit of low scrubbing going
on which doesn’t necessarily advance the cause of arrangements
of this kind. The second Allegretto movement fares
better, with some of the sharp, sardonic Shostakovich wit
becoming even more folk-like in a number of telling passages.
There are also some remarkable col legno effects,
and an almost invisible celesta part which adds some interesting
colour, without allowing it the true Shostakovich loneliness
which it might have gained from some more imaginative exposure.
The final movement is and emotionally draining journey, and
the already funereal mood is made even more lugubrious with
strings. The celesta is granted some more substance by contributing
to the ‘Moonlight Sonata’ paraphrase, and the sense of dissolution
is absolute, through the final C major chord and beyond.
The booklet notes by David Fanning have little to say on
the subject of the arrangements, going over the origins and
content of each piece pretty much as if there was nothing
really special going on. We are told that the original arrangement
of the Violin Sonata was made by violinist Michail
Zinman for his own use in 2005, with the percussion parts
being added later by Andrei Pushkarev. The Viola Sonata arrangement
by Rumanian-born violinist-composer Vladimir Mendelssohn
was completed in 1991. The logic of pairing these two arrangements
is clear, and indeed makes for a fascinating and worthwhile
coupling. The Violin Sonata arrangement is the star
discovery for me however, creating entirely new perspectives
on an already mighty masterpiece. These are live recordings,
though you probably wouldn’t guess it without being told.
There are one or two very minor ‘noises off’ in Op.147, but
with such extended and quiet music one would hardly expect
otherwise. The detail in the recording is very good, and
the playing is beyond exemplary. I’m not about to throw away
my Shlomo Mintz-Viktoria Postnikova recording of these pieces
(Erato), but this recording casts a fascinating new chiaroscuro
on some of Shostakovich’s most personal statements.
Dominy
Clements
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Gidon Kremer
(violin); Yuri Bashmet (viola); Andrei Pushkarev (percussion);
Kremerata Baltica/Gidon Kremer 
