Aside from the human 
                voice it is doubtful that any instrument 
                is more often featured in classical 
                music than the violin. Certainly it 
                is unparalleled in its expressive range. 
                Thus, throughout the centuries it has 
                been utilized by nearly every composer 
                of note to convey every emotion in any 
                style. For better or worse though, the 
                violin’s sweetness and lyrical qualities 
                became less featured, especially as 
                a solo instrument. By the twentieth 
                century the works of men such as Webern 
                and Crumb expounded upon the dissonant 
                and grating qualities that the instrument 
                can produce. In the meantime, as so 
                much had been written for lyrical violin, 
                many composers turned to the viola and 
                cello for solo instruments. As a result, 
                the music for solo violin written in 
                the past century was often distant or 
                relentlessly avant-garde. 
              
 
              
Not everyone abandoned 
                the violin as a lyrical instrument, 
                however, as this collection featuring 
                the artistry of Maria Bachman shows. 
                This music is reminiscent of the music 
                of the Romantic era in its lyricism 
                and vitality. It does not revert to 
                Brahms or Chopin for its harmonic structure, 
                but it does reach back to them for its 
                expressivity. Clearly this was the musical 
                vocabulary that Bachman and her accompanist 
                Jon Klibonoff were seeking. 
              
 
              
We start with the four-movement 
                Sonata for Violin and Piano by John 
                Corigliano. This is a challenging work 
                for both performers, and here is played 
                very well. It is hearkens to the more 
                serious works of Bernstein, with a neo-romantic 
                sensitivity to melody coupled with an 
                impressionist or post-impressionist 
                chord vocabulary. It is frequently a 
                highly energetic work, though occasionally 
                collapsing in an expression of exhaustion 
                for a quick breather before launching 
                itself into another rhapsodic blast. 
                Throughout the fourth movement the violin 
                even sounds as if it is laughing like 
                a child at play while the piano plays 
                the part of a happy but more concerned 
                and responsible parent. It feels as 
                if the accompaniment is trying to lead 
                the way, but seemingly leading from 
                behind. The interplay of the instruments 
                is quite fun, and it feels as if the 
                musicians are truly "in tune" 
                with each other emotionally in addition 
                to sonically. 
              
 
              
This then leads directly 
                to the album’s title track, Fratres. 
                Interestingly, this is the only work 
                which the liner notes neglect to discuss 
                at length. In fact, the notes do not 
                even give a year of composition for 
                the eleven-minute work. The piece is, 
                however, probably the most intriguing 
                on the collection. The violin opens 
                with a truly virtuosic statement, running 
                up and down the fingerboard and across 
                the strings at an amazing rate. The 
                piano then enters with a stately, perhaps 
                morose mood to contrast with the violin’s 
                exuberance. As the piece progresses 
                the violin is then utilized differently 
                for other contrasts to the much more 
                simple and elegant piano part. There 
                are slow sections filled with double-stops 
                or plucked musical thoughts. As the 
                work concludes the violin returns to 
                its traditional bowed use, but extends 
                its range to its outer extreme. As the 
                violin reaches higher, the piano descends, 
                until finally both instruments are out 
                of range and energy, and the music ceases 
                to be. Fratres is not a commonly performed 
                work in the West, though it is highly 
                regarded in Russia and Poland. It has 
                been performed in a variety of arrangements 
                for different instruments and ensembles. 
                This is an exquisite arrangement that 
                should perhaps become more generally 
                familiar. 
              
 
              
Following Fratres is 
                another Sonata for Violin and Piano, 
                this one by Paul Moravec, commissioned 
                specifically for Bachman and Klibonoff 
                by the Philadelphia Network for New 
                Music. The three movement sonata was 
                recorded first on the initial release 
                of this album. Each movement is intentionally 
                distinct from the other two: the first 
                soaring melodic over an intense and 
                active piano base, the second contemplative 
                and introspective, the finale an enthusiastic 
                and volatile combination of instruments 
                in a realm of shifting meters and asymmetric 
                progressions. Unlike their treatment 
                of Fratres, here the liner notes are 
                especially interesting. They quote the 
                composer directly as he describes the 
                movements and their relation to one 
                another, and his impression of the artists 
                for whom the piece was written. 
              
 
              
The fourth piece was 
                also debuted on this recording. Albert 
                Glinsky’s "Toccata-Scherzo" 
                is a rapid-fire tour de force, with 
                the violin and piano both tossing off 
                blistering, virtuosic runs. Alternately 
                they will then join together for a change 
                in pace, almost as if they are rebuilding 
                their steam before another press of 
                the accelerator, and another utterly 
                impressive string of runs. The piece 
                is about the length of a pop song, which 
                is perfect for this type of circus-acrobatics. 
                Were it longer, it would become tiresome 
                as the listener became dulled to the 
                pace. As it stands, it is quite impressive 
                and very well performed. 
              
 
              
The final work on the 
                disc is Olivier Messiaen’s "Praise 
                to the Immortality of Jesus". It 
                is the only piece here by a composer 
                who is no longer alive, and also the 
                only one which is part of a larger whole 
                not presented on this CD. The original 
                piece was written as a quartet in 1940 
                for violin, piano, cello, and clarinet 
                under the title Quatuor pour la fin 
                du temps (Quartet for the end 
                of time). The concluding movement 
                was intended to be a duet though, and 
                was named independently of the whole. 
                That is the piece presented here. It 
                is deeply reverential with a somber, 
                mechanistic piano that could easily 
                symbolize the heartbeat of an old man. 
                The violin emotes expressively, and 
                reaches slowly toward the highest pitches 
                of the instrument. By the end the violin 
                has reached the realm of the barely 
                audible, and the piano slowly fades 
                away, finally stopping as the violin 
                holds a single stratospheric note out 
                of time until that too dies away. 
              
 
              
It is understandable 
                why this would be considered a BMG Classic. 
                Bachman and Klibonoff consistently display 
                both mechanical and artistic brilliance. 
                While the works are not necessarily 
                mainstays of popular instrumental music 
                today, they are consistently very good. 
                The album is far more than simply listenable. 
                It will appeal both to casual fans of 
                classical music and to more adventurous 
                ears wishing to explore the music of 
                the past twenty years. 
              
 
              
Patrick Gary