Franz Schubert - Duo Sonata in A, Op. 162, D. 574, for Violin and Piano
Although Schubert was never a great instrumental virtuoso in the mold of Paganini or Liszt, he grew up in a family that loved music, and he performed from his earliest years as a singer, violinist, organist, and pianist. His schoolteacher father, an amateur cellist, organized family string quartet sessions in which the young Franz played the violin and viola, and he often performed the piano parts for his own songs and chamber works.
In 1816, at the age of 19, Schubert composed three sonatas for violin and piano (later published as "Sonatinas"), which demonstrated his hands-on knowledge of both instruments and the influence of Beethoven's works for that combination. The following summer, his lyrical sensibilities now in full flower, the 20-year-old Schubert wrote the exquisite "Duo" in A major for violin and piano. The entire work is an unbroken stream of graceful, beautifully crafted melody, reflecting his quintessential genius for song. Although the designation "Duo" was not appended to the A-Major sonata until its publication some 23 years after his death, the aptness of the title is justified by the continuous dialogue between the two instruments, particularly in the third and fourth movements.
The Allegro moderato begins with a strolling, dotted-rhythm piano figure over which the violin floats a sweet and constantly evolving melodic line. The piano contributes to the thematic dialogue, but the violin dominates the musical texture of this uncommonly lovely movement.
Taking a cue from Beethoven, Schubert follows the first movement with an exuberantly heroic Scherzo, featuring leaping intervals, brusque cross rhythms, and unexpected juxtapositions of forte and piano. A soft, sinuous chromatic violin scale announces the contrasting trio, which is characterized by a subtle dynamic range and trimly gliding intervals.
The piano fully establishes its musical partnership in the lyrical, 3/8 Andantino. Composed in the ABA form of one of his Lieder, Schubert provides a mellow "duet without words" in which the violin and piano contribute equally to the musical discourse.
The final Allegro vivace continues the melodic interweaving of the violin and piano parts. Cast as a whirling Viennese waltz, the movement brings Schubert's Duo Sonata to a buoyant conclusion.
Gaspar Cassadó - Suite for Solo Cello
Gaspar Cassadó was one of the foremost cellists of the 20th Century. A musician of great versatility, he appeared regularly as a soloist with the world's finest conductors and orchestras; performed chamber music with the most renowned musicians of the day; and produced a sizeable body of charming, well-crafted compositions and arrangements designed to showcase his own considerable talents as a cellist. His performance style and compositional oeuvre are often likened to those of the violinist Fritz Kreisler, who also wrote and performed his own concertos, showpieces, and charming recital encores that display the performer's wit, agility, and lighter side.
Born in Barcelona in 1897, Cassadó progressed quickly in his musical studies. In 1906 the emerging 21-year-old cellist Pablo Casals attended a performance by the nine-year-old prodigy and was so impressed that he invited him to become his first fulltime student. Cassadó eventually attained a scholarship from the city of Barcelona to move to Paris, where he studied for many years with Casals. Cassadó considered Casals to be his greatest musical influence and his "spiritual father."
While in Paris, Cassadó also pursued his studies in composition, working closely with such masters as Manuel de Falla and Maurice Ravel. Their stylistic influence can be heard in Cassadó's 1926 Suite for Solo Cello, which was inspired by Casals' legendary performances of the Bach cello suites. Up until the early 20th Century, Bach's six cello suites were not widely known to the listening public; they were regarded as cello teaching material not quite suitable for general consumption. Casals radically altered that perception, performing them often and serving as their staunch advocate. His performances served as a catalyst for a vast outpouring of 20th Century solo cello works by major composers as diverse as Zoltán Kodály, Max Reger, Paul Hindemith, Benjamin Britten, George Crumb, and Gaspar Cassadó.
Cassadó's Suite for Solo Cello combines the Baroque formalism and dance orientation of Bach's suites with his own native Spanish flair. The first movement begins, á la Bach, with a free preludium that evolves into a zarabanda, a dignified Spanish dance related to the Baroque sarabande. The movement quotes Zoltán Kodaly's Sonata for Cello Solo and, reflecting Cassadó's studies with Ravel, makes extensive use of the motive that begins the famous flute solo from the ballet Daphnis et Chloe.
The second movement is written in the form of a two-part sardana. Beginning with a characteristicly slow, introductory section (in classic saradanas the first tirada was danced with the arms down), the music soon breaks into an animatedly rustic dance in 2/4 (the second tirada was usually danced with the arms up). The jauntily rhythmic flavor of the movement makes this the most overtly "danceable" of the three.
Cassadó continues to honor antique Spanish folkdance styles by basing the final movement largely on the jota, a dance originally performed in colorful costumes and accompanied by castanets. The movement begins slowly with a ruminative intermezzo featuring lyrical, five-beat phrases. The intermezzo gradually gives way to the more vigorous, swinging jota. The movement alternates between the introspection of the intermezzo and the extroverted, flamenco-like jota, bringing the suite to a lively, Spanish-style conclusion.
Johannes Brahms - Trio in B Major, Op. 8, for Violin, Cello, and Piano
Johannes Brahms' Piano Trio, Opus 8, is in many respects a paradoxical work. Progressing from a radiant B major to a tragic B minor, the piece juxtaposes passages of luxurious warmth and optimism and music of turbulence and despair. It is also, in the version heard most often today, simultaneously one of Brahms' earliest and latest works.
He had already started composing the trio in 1853, when the great Hungarian violinist Joseph Joachim gave the 20-year-old Brahms a letter of introduction to Robert and Clara Schumann. Brahms' meeting with the Schumanns at their Düsseldorf home marked an important turning point in his life and career. The Schumanns received him with enormous enthusiasm and generosity. They invited him to stay with them for several weeks, initiating a close friendship that would last for the rest of their lives. Schumann wrote glowingly about the younger composer in his influential journal The New Leipzig Musical Times, and he introduced Brahms to the head of the prominent music publishing firm Breitkopf & Härtel. This greatly enhanced Brahms' prospects for a successful composing career.
The following February, while still working on the trio, Brahms received the distressing news of Robert Schumann's suicide attempt. He hastened back to Düsseldorf to comfort the Schumann family. It was under those dark circumstances that he completed the piece later that year. Perhaps this brush with tragedy associated with his mentor altered the emotional trajectory of the work, diverting it from its luminous B-major beginning and setting on the course towards its stormy B-minor conclusion.
Toward the end of his life Brahms, now the most respected of living composers, changed music publishers. Fritz Simrock bought the rights to all of Brahms' works from Breitkopf & Härtel for the purpose of publishing them in a new edition. Simrock offered Brahms the opportunity to revise some of his earliest works for the release of the new edition. Brahms, ever the perfectionist - he had burned his first twenty string quartets and postponed composing his first symphony until his mid-40s - decided to revisit his 35-year-old trio, Op. 8.
After performing the new version in 1890, Brahms wrote to a friend, saying, "Do you still remember the B major trio from our early days, and wouldn't you be curious to hear it now, as I have (instead of placing a wig on it!) taken the hair and combed and ordered it a bit...?" This was quite an understatement. In fact, he had shortened the overall length of the work by a third, substantially rewriting the middle sections of the first, third, and fourth movements. Only the Scherzo remained essentially unchanged from its original version. The final work seamlessly blends the impetuosity and passion of his youth with the technical assurance and architectural mastery of his maturity.
The first movement begins like a cello sonata, unleashing a glorious cello melody that continues for 23 measures before it is finally joined by the violin. The atmosphere of the movement is wise and reassuring, demonstrating that, even at an early age, his musical sensibilities were already well-formed and recognizably "Brahmsian."
The Scherzo begins in a stealthily portentous B minor. Compressed staccato phrases are interwoven with longer thematic threads that foreshadow surprises ahead. Sudden fortissimo outbursts crash through the texture, dissolving into delicate piano filigree and quiet passagework in the strings. The contrasting trio introduces a melody of expansive warmth and maturity.
The third movement alternates between solemn piano and string chorales, eventually blending the two into a sustained, meditative texture. The music then gives way to a long-lined, soulful cello solo. The solemn chorale textures return toward the end of the movement, now accompanied by ethereal ornaments in the right hand of the piano.
The final movement is a musical battle between hope and despair. A quietly agitated opening explodes into major-key passages of great exuberance and exultation. Finally, though, the music retreats back into agitation and concern, and the trio concludes in a burst of stormy, B-minor turbulence.
- Michael Parloff, 2009