Johannes BRAHMS (1833-1897)
Sonata in F minor for Clarinet and Piano, Op.120 No.1 (1894) [21:56]
Sonata in E flat minor for Clarinet and Piano, Op.120 No.2 (1894) [21:59]
Daniel KESSNER (b.1946)
Dances for Clarinet and Guitar (1997) [12:13]
Mitchell Lurie (clarinet); Leona Lurie (piano) - Brahms
Richard Lesser (clarinet); Jordan Charnofsky (piano) - Kessner
rec. 1972 (Brahms), 2000 (Kessner)
CRYSTAL RECORDS CD301 [56:14]
I have my own private impression about Brahms. You may find
it weird but here it is. I see him as an elephant that once had this Zen
dream of turning into a butterfly. He woke up and decided to do it for real.
The elephant spent all day on meadows, watching butterflies, copying their
moves, dancing with them. And towards the end of his life he could do practically
everything they did. Maybe he even learnt to fly, gracefully waving his big
ears. At least, his soul did.
There is no better supporting example for this view of Brahms than his two
last chamber pieces, the gentle Clarinet Sonatas Op.120. Their lazy mellowness,
hushed pastel tones, generous melodies can serve as a definition of "autumnal
music". Many sincere thanks to clarinetist Richard Mühlfeld of Meiningen
for inspiring the composer to create them, as well as the Clarinet Trio and
the sublime Clarinet Quintet.
To serve these masterpieces well, one must have a perfect blend of the two
voices, and the perfect intonational control of the clarinet. One needs also
a sense of forward momentum: calm must not turn into boring! Yet one should
savor the serene tranquility of the quiet moments. One needs the feeling of
the overall structure and the ability to project this feeling to listeners.
And we have all of this in the recording by Mitchell and Leona Lurie. The piano
may be a bit subdued: this recording is the clarinet's celebration. The instrument
gleams and shines like a magnificent fairy-tale king. This is one of those
performances where the music seems to flow through your body, like vital cosmic
energy. Every corner is round, every note is polished and carefully attached.
The First Sonata's Andante is sweet and silky. The Second Sonata's Allegro
appassionato is not hard-driven and does not stick out of the structure,
as it does in some other recordings. And even when our elephant starts fooling
around, as in the exuberant final movements, the texture is still clear and
accurate. It is like watching two ballroom dancers spin together with perfect
technique, never stomping on each other's toes.
There is only one moment, in the first clarinet's entry of the First Sonata's
finale, where its voice is suddenly shrill. But then, it is less than a second.
I could wish for a more spacious recording of the piano sound, and for a more
articulated presence of the piano's lower register. But for 1972 it's not bad
at all.
The recording of the Brahms sonatas was issued on an LP, but it was too short-timed
for a full CD. So the producer added a fill-up, another work for clarinet,
this time paired with a guitar. The clarinetist is one of Lurie's former pupils,
Richard Lesser. He was the principal clarinet of the Israel Philharmonic for
35 years. He is paired here with a fine guitarist Jordan Charnofsky. Another
former pupil of Mitchell Lurie is the composer, Daniel Kessner. Although at
some point he changed from clarinet to flute, and is now a well-known flautist,
his intimate knowledge of clarinet is evident. Dances for Clarinet and Guitar,
written exactly one hundred years after Brahms' death, are modern and yet lyrical,
very listenable yet not "easy listening music". The four parts of
the suite hold so well together that they could be named a "Sonata" as
well.
In the opening Sicilienne, the two instruments seem to have divided
the duties: while the clarinet sings, the guitar does the dancing. The music
is slow, with mysterious glimmering and a sense of a slowly moving pendulum.
The dancers move in circles, rising on their toes and pausing. One of the themes
will reappear in other movements, changing disguises on the way: look for it! Balkan
Dance is energetic and concentrated. The steady punctuation of the pulse
is gripping. Kessner's Sarabande weaves spacious, transparent veils
over slow arpeggiated steps. The last movement is Fire Dance, and Kessner
describes it as "someone dancing on a bed of hot coals". There is
a Rite-of-Springish rhythmic urgency and rough, jarring honks.
I sometimes felt that the musical content was thin with much space being covered
by few ideas. But this can be OK for dances, and maybe that's why it's not
a "Sonata". Also, there is a hypnotic effect I can't deny. The music
holds its values and remains interesting on repeated listening. It explores
well the timbral combinations of clarinet and guitar. The performers are first
class; their playing is assured and imaginative. The guitar is full-voiced.
Finally, the recording quality is just excellent, presenting the two instruments
in full 3-D.
Oleg Ledeniov