"The greatest musical phenomenon since Mozart"
is how his concert partner Pablo Casals famously described Enescu. Those
who knew him certainly speak with awe about his prodigious capabilities,
and record companies such as Marco Polo, Olympia and EMI are paying
his music some serious attention. The two works on this disc give us
a chance to hear two sides of the coin – a fairly oft-recorded early
masterpiece which signalled a precocious talent, and a much later, far
more enigmatic piece that was coolly received and appeared to be a stylistic
mish-mash, but which deserves re-appraisal.
The Octet in C, written when the composer was
19, is an amazingly accomplished piece for a teenager (certainly comparable
to Mendelssohn’s Octet), and is well represented in the current
catalogue. However, this being Gidon Kremer and his punningly titled
ensemble, something had to be different. It appears that a colleague,
Leonid Desyatnikov, suggested the group expand the Octet’s original
scoring to create a fuller, more ‘orchestral’ texture, and this is the
version recorded here. It is something akin to what Schoenberg did with
Verklärte Nacht, and Kremer’s group make a strong case for
their approach. The extremely muscular, contrapuntal lines and effortless
flow of melody are already very effective in original octet form, in
fact sounding sonorous and very rich in the right performance, so I
suppose what Kremer is doing is giving us more of the same. The result
is undeniably effective. The work’s broad opening theme, a glorious
inspiration over throbbing unisons in the bass, emerges as even more
lush and romantic here, and at times sounds curiously like Tippett.
The development of the main theme, which is the backbone of the whole
piece in one way or another, is extremely inventive, and as the counterpoint
thickens and the theme’s treatment becomes ever more angular and complex,
one cannot help thinking of Schoenberg’s almost contemporary work. There
is passion, excitement, luminosity and a real individuality in every
movement, and all conceived on an epic scale. Kremer and his players
respond throughout with playing of great commitment, polish and flair.
The Piano Quintet, composed 40 years later,
is something of a curiosity. The booklet claims ‘first recording’, and
I certainly cannot trace a rival in the catalogue. It is referred to
as "a distant relative of both late Scriabin and mature Ravel",
and there is a certain heady, almost ‘perfumed’ quality that does seem
to hark back to a past generation of late Romantics. Themes are treated
in a languorous, improvisatory way that must have seemed terribly old-fashioned
at the time, but one can trace a rhapsodic style of writing that comes
quite clearly from the same pen as the Octet. Atonality hovers
on the fringes, but never takes hold, and the restlessness of much of
the writing seems to mirror a hidden sorrow (Enescu’s response to the
war?) as well as a more positive emotional passion (particularly the
finale) that is ultimately uplifting. Here again, Kremer leads a small
group whose playing uncovers every complex strand with unerring precision
and fervour, and they are helped enormously by the big-boned yet sensitive
contribution of the Lithuanian-born pianist Andrius Zlabys. This mysteriously
multi-dimensional piece is well worth getting to know.
Recording quality is demonstration worthy. There is
a rather convoluted booklet note entitled The Forgotten Legacy of
George Enescu by Julia Bederova that almost disappears up its own
prose, but does contain useful snippets for the more curious reader
to follow up. A stimulating release, and highly recommended.
Tony Haywood