Miklós Perényi Recital at the Wigmore Hall
Johann Sebastian BACH (1685-1750)
Suite No. 3 in C major BWV 1009 for solo cello [22:57]
Benjamin BRITTEN (1913-1976)
Cello Sonata in C major Op. 65 [20:07]
Johannes BRAHMS (1833-1897)
Cello Sonata No.2 in F major Op.99 [25:58]
encore
Frédéric CHOPIN (1810-1849)
Cello Sonata in G minor Op.65 III: Largo [4:55]
Miklós Perényi (cello); Dénes Várjon (piano)
rec. live, Wigmore Hall, 27 January 2009. Stereo. DDD
WIGMORE HALL LIVE WHLIVE0035 [74:28]
Miklós Perényi is a scandalously underrated cellist. The sheer diversity of
his art, as represented on this CD, is breathtaking. There is a rare humanity
about his playing that comes, in part, from the fragility of his tone. He
is not the sort of cellist to paint his phrases in broad strokes, preferring
instead a delicate, studied tone. That is not to say that he lacks power -
both the Britten and the Brahms have sections of real intensity - but even
here the cello tone in suffused with a sense intimacy.
On first hearing this disc, I was convinced that there were tuning issues,
especially in the Bach. But listening more closely, that isn't the case at
all. It is rather that Perényi introduces such inflection into his playing:
the leading notes always hanker to resolve, transitional keys are always entirely
provisional, and quiet codas feel so belated you feel as if the movement is
already a distant memory before it even ends. And all of this is expressed
purely through the timbre of the cello; an incredible skill, and probably
unmatched by any living cellist.
As with all the releases in the Wigmore Hall Live series, this is first and
foremost a document of a live event. The hall's trademark resonant acoustic
is as much a star as the performers, and you can't help feeling an empathy
with the receptive audience as they applaud enthusiastically at the end of
each work.
The Bach Third Suite is given an idiosyncratic reading; a full set of the
suites played like this would probably feel a bit too subjective, but as a
concert-opener it is ideal. There are important aspects of this music that
Perényi clearly expresses, yet without any exaggeration: Bach's various two-part
textures, for example, where the cello plays phrases and responses consecutively
in different registers. These are given a real conversational feel, but the
subtlety of the approach comes through in the fact that Perényi does not sound
explicitly like two separate players, but then neither does he sound like
one. Rather he maintains that ambiguity, finally bringing the voices together
at the cadence with consummate skill. In the final Gigue he really gives the
music a rustic feel, more regional colour than Bach would have liked perhaps,
but a rousing and invigorating conclusion nonetheless.
The Britten Sonata is something of a rarity. It was written for Rostropovich,
but I'd imagine Slava doing something very different with it. Again, that
very human fragility of Perényi's tone is a real asset, especially when supported
by the security of his technique. For me, the most magical moment of this
performance is the pianissimo coda to the last movement, right up at the top
of the cello's artificial harmonics. He doesn't make it sound easy; it is
pained and intense playing. It is another case of the music sounding vulnerable,
but on close listening turning out the be note-perfect.
The Brahms is an intense work, too intense perhaps for Perényi's style. His
is a lighter reading than many. There's no harm in that I suppose, and there
is never any problem with the balance between the instruments. A good performance
from fellow Hungarian Dénes Várjon, by the way, but he is a modest accompanist,
and like all good accompanists, never steals the limelight.
The Brahms is well structured, and all those build-ups to climaxes are cogently
paced. The climaxes themselves aren't exactly earth-shattering – this is chamber
music played as chamber music – but in the intimacy of the Wigmore Hall, anything
more would seem excessive.
The Wigmore Hall Live label has done it again: they have produced a recording
of a live event that makes you really wish you'd been there. If you have been
to a recital at the venue, you'll know exactly what the atmosphere is like.
That atmosphere is elegantly captured, at least in part thanks to the way
the acoustic is represented. You'll kick yourself for having missed it, but
this is the next best thing.
Gavin Dixon
A recording of a live event that makes you really wish you'd been there