Above: pianist Juho Pohjonen
Author: Oberon
Tuesday January 14th, 2020 - Continuing the celebration of their 50th season, Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center tonight programmed music from the Czech, French, and German schools, played to perfection by as assemblage of prestigious artists.
Josef Suk's Elegie for Piano, Violin, and Cello, Op. 23 (1902) was originally scored for solo violin, solo cello, string quartet, harmonium and harp. A shorter version, for piano trio, was performed tonight. Pianist Juho Pohjonen, a master of evocative music-making, was joined by Adam Barnett-Hart (violin) and Jan Vogler (cello). Following a peaceful opening passage from the piano, the violin sings a sweet, sad melody on high. This is taken up by the alto voice of the cello. A sublime melding of the three instruments ensues, interrupted by a burst of passion. With calm restored, Mr. Barnett returns to the opening theme as Mr. Vogler's cello comments; then, they switch roles. Near the end, some ominous rumblings stir from Mr. Pohjonen's left hand, but all ends peacefully. It's a truly beautiful piece, and the playing was captivating.
Leoš Janáček's Sonata for Violin and Piano (1914-15), played this evening by Mssrs. Barnett-Hart and Pohjonen, was the composer's "response to war". In its opening movement, Janáček establishes a restless atmosphere wherein melodic fragments are tossed back and forth between violin and piano; mood swings and rhythmical gestures abound. By contrast, a love of homeland finds expression in the Ballada, with its shimmering piano setting the tone and its lyrical main theme spun out with heavenly clarity by the violin. The music takes on a quiet intensity, turning ethereal with delicate piano textures supporting a cantabile for violin. Passion and subtlety intersect, and then Mr. Barnett-Hart's violin ascends to the stratosphere.
The zippy, folksy Scherzo has a gypsy-like lilt; a melodic breakdown follows until some soft pizzicati bring a sort of da capo. The sonata's finale attempts a return to lyricism, led by the piano, but the violin's short, urgent slashings prevent the mood from developing. To finish, the violin rises yet again to the heights.
Above, The Escher Quartet: Brook Speltz, Pierre Lapointe, Brendan Speltz, and Adam Barnett-Hart
The Escher Quartet have recently undergone a personnel change, with violinist Brendan Speltz (brother of cellist Brook Speltz) joining. It is a pleasure to report that the Escher's signature blend has been preserved; their playing of the Debussy tonight was simply spectacular.
Claude Debussy's Quartet in G-minor for Strings, Op. 10 is the composer's only work for string quartet. He completed it in 1893, when he was 31 years old. How amazing this music must have seemed at its premiere, and how fresh it can still sound to us today in the hands and bows of the Eschers.
From note one, it was clear we were in for a most engaging performance of the Debussy tonight; the integration of the four voices filled me with delight. Melodic motifs afforded each of the players the opportunity to display their tonal allure whilst the harmonies, so abundant in this score, were so appealing in their clarity and warmth. A special tip of the hat to Brook Speltz for the musical magic of his playing in the opening movement.
Debussy established his second movement in a swarm of guitar-like pizzicati, relished by the Eschers before moving on to a more lyrical flow, both subtle and vibrant. I cannot begin to convey the...happiness...I felt in listening to this music tonight.
Brendan Speltz introduced the Andantino with pliant expressiveness; violist Pierre Lapointe takes up the theme, and then the almost painfully lovely harmonies arise, evoking thoughts of past loves and of present desires. Music has seldom seemed so personal. Mr. Lapointe's viola sings wistfully, and from Brook Speltz's cello this romantic dream is sustained. Just when it seems that the emotions have reached their peak, Mr. Barnett-Hart's ravishing violin sound carries us higher still.
The cello again casts a spell as the final movement opens, and the viola sounds moody. Thru a series of harmonic transformations, and the ebb and flow of passion, this remarkable quartet sails to its finish. A wave of unbridled enthusiasm broke forth in the hall even as the last note was hanging on the air: the Eschers were hailed as the musical heroes they are.
Following this extraordinary performance, I spent the interval trying to decide if the return of symptoms of a cold I have been battling should induce me to head home. I was especially concerned that a coughing fit might spoil everyone's evening in the course of the dauntingly long Quartet No. 2 in A-major for Piano, Violin, Viola, and Cello, Op. 26, by Johannes Brahms, which was to follow. I had just heard this piece two days previously and found it rather long-winded. But a quartet of favorite artists were to be playing the Brahms tonight; that, and my charming concert companion, persuaded me to stay.
Mr. Pohjonen can take a great deal of the credit for sustaining me thru this prolonged, uneven work with his breathtaking artistry. His colleagues - Danbi Um (violin), Richard O'Neill (viola), and Jan Vogler (cello) - played marvelously as well, with such polish and vitality that I soon ceased to even think about my "illness" and simply embraced the music and the playing of it, feeling very connected and alive. Only in the final movement, in which I think Brahms tends to ramble, did I begin to fade a bit. A large-scale and vigorous ovation greeted the players at the end, and was much merited.
~ Oberon