Franz SCHUBERT (1797-1828)
Sonatas arranged for violin and guitar
Sonata in A minor, “Arpeggione”, D821 (arr. Jacob Kellermann) [23:40]
Sonata (Duo) in A major, D574 (arr. Jacob Kellermann) [23:28]
Sonatina (Sonata) in D major, D384 (arr. Mats Bergström) [13:12]
Duo KeMi
rec. October 2016, Råsunda church, Solna, Sweden
BIS BIS-2375 SACD [61:22]
Schubert sonatas on the guitar? It’s to this disc’s credit that the performers waste no time building spurious arguments for why their approach might be justified on a historical basis. Guitarist Jacob Kellermann settles for the, doubtless true, statement that “the world Schubert lived in breathed guitar”: it was around in all the middle class circles that Schubert moved in, and so he must have known it and been shaped by its influence on his social circles.
You, too, will enjoy this disc a lot more if you jettison all historical concerns and enjoy it for what it is: lovely music well played, and to hell with authenticity. For some, that will be a problem, and I’ll admit that, initially, it was for me too. Bluntly, a lot of this music doesn’t sound much like Schubert. The major difference is that the combination of guitar and violin sounds much more domestic than we’re used to when we encounter this music in the concert hall. Of course, there’s an element of that in all of Schubert’s chamber music, written for the Schubertiade salon rather than the paying audience. That feeling is squared in these arrangements, though, and it takes a bit of tuning into.
It’s particularly pronounced in the Arpeggione sonata, the best known work on the disc. Having a guitarist play the piano line unavoidably reduces its scale and makes it a little thin at first hearing. Kellermann’s playing is excellent throughout, and he keeps the line commendably, but you lose most of the big chords and that takes some adjustment. Daniel Migdal plays his violin equally well, but here the adjustment is amplified for those of us used to hearing the sonata played on a cello, let alone an actual arpeggione. The higher register gives the music a whole different colour, but it’s well done, not least thanks to Migdal’s discrete use of vibrato. The combination works especially well in the slow movement, where the domesticity of the sound fits the music like a very snug glove; and, surprisingly, hearing the finale on a violin comes as close to gypsy music as Brahms ever managed.
The D574 Sonata (Duo) is lovely but doesn’t sound like Schubert! That’s not necessarily a bad thing, though. In fact, there’s an improvisatory quality to the playing that, I thought, worked very well, and gave the music a new lease of life. There is, throughout, a lovely sense of to-and-fro, with Migdal and Kellermann listening to one another intently and responding to one another’s lines. That’s particularly true in the faster movements, but it also characterises the meltingly sweet slow movement.
The Sonatina is simpler and more direct than either of the preceding works, and it’s also the first time they play someone else’s arrangement, but there is a unique directness to their communication, and the highly singable melodies come across very well.
Definitely a Schubert recital with a difference, then, but an interesting novelty nonetheless. It helps that the recorded sound is excellent, and the booklet notes contain worthwhile contributions from both musicians.
Simon Thompson
