SCHUMANN: Violin Sonatas = Violin Sonata Nos 1, 2, & 3 – Alina Ibragimova, violin/ Cédric Tiberghien, piano – Hyperion CDA68354 (1/31/25) (71:49)[Distr. by PIAS]****:
Violin Sonata No. 1 in A Minor, Op. 105
Violin Sonata No. 2 in D Minor, Op 121
Violin Sonata No. 3 in A minor, WoO 27
The early 1850s in the town of Düsseldorf, Germany proved especially fertile both for Robert and Clara Schumann, their creativity enhanced by the presence of young composer Johannes Brahms and violinist Joseph Joachim. Add to this venerable mix the assistance of violinist Ferdinand David and concertmaster Wilhelm Joseph von Wasielewski, and the stage had been set for the two violin sonatas by Robert Schumann that evince a grand intensity of expression. Often performing Beethoven’s “Kreutzer Sonata” in A with Clara Schumann at the keyboard, Ferdinand David, the principal inspirator for Mendelssohn’s famous E Minor Concerto, encouraged Robert to compose additional scores for the violin-piano duo, especially since Schumann’s Fantasy-Pieces, Op. 75 revealed his capacity for drea6m-scape sensibility that tests the limits of conventional, classical structures.
Recorded at Henry Wood Hall, London, 13-16 December 2023, collaborators Ibragimova and Tiberghien embark on startling and passionate accounts of the Schumann violin sonatas. The Op. 105 Sonata in A Minor’s first movement presents a virtual, pitched battle between A minor and F major, with incursions into D minor, with consistent rhetoric in 16th notes. The sound of Ibragimova’s 1570 Amati instrument has many opportunities to sail luxuriously, especially as she holds the G -string for the melodic opening, and Tiberghien’s keyboard enters six pitches higher. The severe tension the two instrumentalists maintain refuses to relent, even in those few respites in F major that might recall former bliss. The second movement, Intermezzo (Allegretto), in F major, bears a countrified ethos, somewhat whimsical in the manner of Schumann’s many fantasy-pieces, again dallying between F major and A minor. The last movement, Lebhaft, refuses to abandon its A minor focus, proceeding canonically and 16th flurries in the two instruments, relentless, with jerky shifts to a lyrical mode and passing by the opening melody of movement one towards the sweeping, uncompromising coda.
Schumann’s disenchantment with his First Sonata impelled him to compose (for Ferdinand David) No. 2 in D Minor, a “Grand Sonata for Violin and Pianoforte,” in his own words. The frenzied sensibility of the opening movement, Ziemlich langsam – Lebhaft, has violinist Ibragimova in a spasmodically rhapsodic mode, an expansive mood that Clara Schumann found, as paraphrased, “original depth of unequaled magnificence.” The consistently dark tenor of the work emanates from the scoring of the violin part to its middle registers, withholding from us the soaring tone of which Ibragimova’s Amati is capable. The violin and keyboard often double each other’s voices, so the “symphonic” nature of the texture resonates with a brutal authority.
The second movement, Sehr lebhaft, assumes a martial tone in B minor, interrupted by episodes of lyric recollection. Both instrumentalists proceed in aggressive, full-toned chords before breaking off into that dreamscape atmosphere that so often defines Schumann’s fantasy-pieces. Before this shimmering, potent music ends, it anticipates the third movement, Leise, lebhaft, by modulating into G major. This music opens with Ibragimova’s etched pizzicatos, introducing an extended serenade of unusual beauty and enchantment. Double stops from Ibragimova and rich block chords from Tiberghien fill out a richly exotic texture that, too, has its moment of martial authority before the mood of nostalgic reminiscence returns. These are among the most exquisite passages in the entire album, so savor this movement well.
The last movement, Bewegt, simmers in the driven ethos that marks Schumann’s dark, late work, when incipient madness hovers. The urgent progress will eventually achieve a hard-won D major, perhaps a grudging concession to the emotional balance that would soon elude the composer’s mental powers.
The so-called “F-A-E Sonata” of 1853 derived from Schumann’s affection for violinist Joseph Joachim, and he assigned fellow composers Albert Dietrich (1829-1908) and Johannes Brahms movements one and three, while he contributed the second and fourth movements. Since Joachim had adopted a motto, Frei aber einsam, free but lonely, Schumann insisted that each of the four movements should contain this pattern, especially as Schumann relished musical cryptograms. The seven-minute Dietrich movement, Zeimlich langsam – Lebhaft, evolves in sonata form, sturdy and resolute, sentimentally lyrical, with moments of flashy, impetuous virtuosity.
The Brahms Scherzo appeared separately in 1906, the complete F-A-E score having been withheld from publication until 1935. After a brisk series of martial chords, the music becomes an irregular waltz that the impudent first theme interrupts without really disturbing its melodic content. In ternary form, the aggression returns to close the movement with resolve. The last movement belongs to Robert Schumann, in one of his assertive moods that manages to permit a degree of wistfully playful and canonic reflection. Whether the music qualifies as among Schumann’s maerchen, his story-telling marches, becomes a matter of taste. At the musical debut, Joachim was challenged to name the composer of the respective movements, which he did easily.
The level of musical collaboration throughout this disc has remained peerless, the recorded production once more the courtesy of Andrew Keener.
—Gary Lemco
