Stjepan Hauser is a young Croatian cellist. He and his pianist,
Yoko Misumi, are members of the Greenwich Trio. Their biographies
in the booklet reproduce the expected list of illustrious mentors
and prestigious concert appearances, but more telling than any
of that is the playing, which is consistently impressive.
The sonata by Boccherini reveals a cellist who produces a beautiful
sound, very clean and pure and with impeccable intonation. Phrasing
is musical and subtle and the player is equally at home in the
singing lines of the first movement and in the more rhythmic
second and third. The reading of the cello transcription of
Fauré’s beautiful song is slow indeed, very romantic with lots
of expressive rubato. The original is at once ecstatic, controlled
and cool, very French, but the present reading, the heart clearly
visible on the sleeve, transforms it into something quite different.
This is valid enough – it is a transcription, after all, not
the original – but once it was over I needed a dose of Gallic
restraint. Gérard Souzay, baritone, provided it. Rachmaninov’s
Vocalise usually provokes a similar reaction from me, but in
this case it’s clear at least that dreamy, long-breathed lines
and languorous atmosphere are what the composer intended. This
is therefore a very successful reading.
The recording venue and date of recording are not given, but
the contribution of Susanne and Richard – the recording team
– is generously acknowledged in the booklet, as is the page
turner and the “Coffee Shop next to the church”. The disc is
dedicated to the cellist’s parents. The booklet notes are very
lightweight and appear to have been written by a non-native
English speaker. The booklet as a whole would have benefitted
from a bit of editing and detailed proofreading. The recording
is close, with the player’s breathing very audible. This will
probably bother many listeners less than it does me, but there
are other extraneous noises too. The attack of the very first
note of the Boccherini, for example, is accompanied by a strange,
simultaneous creak which I’m still struggling to identify. The
second note too, and many notes thereafter, throughout the disc,
apparently associated with bow strokes. Is it from the player’s
chair?
Czech cellist-composer David Popper’s Hungarian Rhapsody is
creaky enough already not to need any help. Singing lines alternate
with technical fireworks, and the whole is dispatched by Hauser
with all the skill and bravura you could possibly want. He is
equally commanding in the fiendish second movement of Ligeti’s
solo sonata. Five years separate the two movements of this piece,
the first a mixture of arioso and sliding, pizzicato
chords, and the second, a Paganini-inspired virtuoso showpiece.
Each movement is satisfying on its own terms, but the years
that separate them were long enough, I fear, to prevent them
from melding into a convincing whole. Hauser is very fine in
this work, but comparing his performance to that of Emanuelle
Bertrand on a Harmonia Mundi disc from 1999, I find I prefer
it. She brings a greater sense of calm to the first movement,
the pizzicato chords more sonorous, and the near-absence of
extraneous noises is a real advantage. More contentious, perhaps,
is her way with the finale, preferring something altogether
more civilised than Hauser’s quite remarkable wildness. She
makes more, having more time to do so, of some of the strange
sonorities in this movement, and though each view is no doubt
as valid as the other, I find the work itself is more convincing
in Bertrand’s hands.
The major work in this recital is the Brahms, and it receives
a very fine performance indeed from these two young artists.
In the same key as the Fourth Symphony, the fugal finale comes
to a close, as does the finale of the later (and greater) work,
on an uncompromisingly desolate minor key cadence. Indeed, the
work is fairly sombre throughout, its gently light-hearted minuet
notwithstanding. The work was composed for an amateur cellist
friend of the composer, and singing tone and power in the lower
register are more important than technical prowess. The piano
part is another matter, and here Yoko Misumi comes into her
own at last. Her contribution is a very fine one, fully equal
to the standards of her partner, though she comes perilously
close to overwhelming him at a few points in the work. I compared
this performance to that of Natalie Clein, with Charles Owen
on EMI Classics for Pleasure, and found I had a similar reaction
to the two performances of the Ligeti. Broadly speaking, Natalie
Clein plays with rather more finesse – she is both more espressivo
and more legato in the opening bars, for example – but can’t
quite match up to the Croatian’s sheer power in the more heavily
scored passages. Again, both views seem valid, and this performance
of the Brahms is a most satisfying way of bringing this very
fine recital to a close.
William Hedley
Stjepan Hauser (cello); Yoko Misumi (piano) 
