I could be wrong but
I can find no evidence that any of Raff’s
five violin sonatas were recorded before
the advent of CDs. For violin fanciers
Raff meant morceaux and beyond the Cavatina
was a vista of unplayed folios. It’s
useful therefore to consider Tudor’s
pioneering work in the Raff discography
and to reflect that they have brought
us violin concertos, quartets and cello
concertos amongst other rare things.
Here we have three of the violin sonatas,
to join the Op.99 sonata on Tudor 7109.
He certainly had a
gift for elegant lyricism, forged from
a Schumannesque fire, combined with
more-than-requisite technical assurance.
The E minor of 1853-54 is a solidly
Romantic work adhering to prerequisites
of form and formal sentiment. What it
lacks is true distinction, though one
can admire the witty scherzo with its
cloudy moments of wistfulness. The slow
movement is marked Nicht zu langsam
and that’s true enough; rich in tracery
and reverie but for much of its length
stubbornly superficial and aloof. In
the finale we confront a recurring problem;
a disparate and unresolved attitude
toward direction and at eight minutes
in length it does ramble, notwithstanding
the piano’s fugal passage.
The Fourth in G minor
is the so-called Chromatic Sonata, a
one movement, multi-sectioned concertante
piece which is altogether more harmonically
diverting than its earlier disc mate.
Songful for the violin and powerfully
written for the piano; the ingredients
make for engaging listening, even if
the debts to the High Romantics of the
German school are avoidable and even
if, in the end, thematic memorability
proves over-stated.
The Third Sonata is,
like the First, another big four-movement
work. It’s written in standard sonata
form and fuses intimacy with some strenuous
passagework. Raff is at his finest in
the trio where his trademark lyrical
muse is at its most developed – which
is useful because his slow movement
is once again rather gestural and sporting
a rather self-conscious sense of dramatic
projection. He fails to resolve the
classic finale dilemma, settling instead
for a jovial sense of high spirits;
some strongly projected contrasts might
have worked better.
The recording level
and balance are just and throughout
both Daskalakis and Ishay prove devoted
servants. Adept though they are I can
imagine that a greater sense of tonal
involvement could have turned corners
with greater passion and incision. Sometimes
things are a touch too well mannered
and there was certainly some room for
the kind of expressive gestures that
might have given these works a greater
sense of cavalier freedom. Too much
sugar can kill a Cavatina but a little
sweetener here wouldn’t have gone amiss.
Jonathan Woolf
Ariadne
Daskalakis (violin) 
