Shostakovich’s First
Piano Trio may not be the stuff of acidic
sarcasm and barely controlled anger,
nor contain the deeply moving utterances
of his later chamber works, but it retains
enough of the composer’s personality
to remain a fascinating piece. Some
listeners in search of Shostakovich
may find the opening (and its reappearances)
too saccharine-sweet. Yet there is amply
contrasting material; things get markedly
more violent around one and a half minutes
in. It is almost a privilege to hear
the young Trio Wanderer (there’s a picture
of them on the back of the booklet)
enjoying themselves so obviously. This
is a superb group of musicians. Technique
is not an issue. Listen to Philips-Varjabédian’s
rapid articulation around 3’20, for
example. The bright piano treble register
fits in perfectly with the work’s Weltanschauung,
and Coq is a supremely musical pianist,
never playing simple accompaniments
routinely. Vastly enjoyable. I just
wish Gérard Condé’s booklet
notes were a bit better - the latter-labelled
themes and a blow-by-blow account of
what happens to them read awkwardly,
in the manner of ‘this happens, then
that happens, then what happened first
happens again ..’ etc.
Twenty-one years and
a world’s worth of experience separate
these two Shostakovich Trios. With the
Second we are immediately plunged into
a different universe. Hard to believe
the opening is on cello. It is so high
and so expertly controlled here - the
violin enters in a lower register. The
still feeling, the evocation of stasis,
the registral ‘hole’ that Shostakovich
creates when the piano enters, in its
bass register, all of this will feel
much more like home Shostakovich ground.
There is an undercurrent of anger bursting
to get out in this performance that
makes it all very harrowing and when
the anger does surface it is all the
more effective for the wait. References
to popular music styles appear, subsumed
under the Shostakovich umbrella. A word
in praise of Philips-Varjabédian
again - his top register is simply superb.
A Scherzo follows that,
despite the violinist’s sawing away,
needs more abandon than it gets here,
especially towards the end with the
‘squeezed note’ effects. Here notes
start quietly and crescendo through,
almost impatiently.
Dramatic piano chords
heralds the slow movement, leading to
more expressive passages that could
be even more so than we hear here. This
is a much deeper movement than this
performance will allow it to be. What’s
more, the finale sounds slow, and any
inherent irony is lost, although it
is nice to hear cellist, Raphaël
Pidoux, get carried away with his insistent
repetitions around the five-minute mark.
The close is particularly haunting -
a stately, ghostly procession that lingers
on unsettlingly after the music has
stopped.
Of course it is possible
to hear Shostakovich himself as pianist,
with David Oistrakh and Milos Sadlo,
and this must remain the reference point.
Recorded in Prague in 1946. The transfer
I used for comparison was Dante Lys
LYS369/70, ‘Shostakovich par lui-même’.
This account realises the multiple sides
of the composer with almost schizophrenic
accuracy, while exuding a continual
grim determination. And just listen
to how the three players let go completely
to the wild Scherzo! Or try the elegiac
Largo that seems to take on epic proportions
... and how throaty is Oistrakh’s lower
register. In comparison, it must be
admitted, the Trio Wanderer do
sound a rather pale imitation of the
real thing. Or some might argue that
the group is a prime representative
of modern ‘cleanliness but not depth’
in music-making in general.
The Copland is a wonderful
partner piece. The theme it is based
on is a Jewish song Copland heard at
a play at the Moscow Arts Theatre. The
song hails from Vitebsk village. The
work is subtitled, ‘Study on a Jewish
Theme’. The opening is remarkably astringent
from a young composer not yet thirty
when he wrote it. Perhaps there are
some traces of naivety in the insistent
repetitions of a rhythmic unit, but
the colouristic use of quarter-tones
is impressive. The appearance of identifiably
Copland passages comes as a shock. The
problem seems to be that the work has
ideas above its station, in that it
appears to strive for a bigger-boned
scoring and so frequently strains at
the leash; yet perhaps that is part
of its power. Certainly this work is
well worth investigating - the light
section around 6’30 is most appealing,
especially when given with such a feather-like
touch as here. It sits easily alongside
the main Shostakovich items.
Worth hearing, then,
especially as the disc works so well
as a programme.
Colin Clarke
Trio Wanderer (Vincent Coq, piano; Jean-Marc
Philips-Varjabédian, violin; Raphaël
Pidoux, cello). 