Although he was a student at the Paris Conservatoire at the same time as Debussy, studied with Massenet and Franck, won the Prix de Rome, and even succeeded Franck at the venerable post of organist at Sainte-Clotilde, the name of Gabriel Pierné is little remembered today, to say nothing of his compositions. Fortunately for listeners, the Canadian ensemble Trio Hochelaga has among its missions the revitalization of forgotten and underappreciated French compositions. Pierné's C minor trio certainly falls into their purview.
An attractive and intelligently annotated set, devoted to Fauré’s chamber music with piano; the sole drawback concerns generally astringent sound quality in these 1969/70 recordings. Pianist Jean Hubeau features in all but one of these performances. An uncommonly perceptive, adroit, and lucidly compelling artist, his readings of the large-scale piano quintets, Opp. 89 and 115, are superb. He is partnered by the Quatuor Via Nova, who contribute their own serenely idiomatic account of Fauré’s three-movement string quartet, Op. 121. Hubeau’s impressively understated pianism adds distinction to refined performances of the piano quartets, Opp. 15 and 45, and the particularly fine D minor Trio, Op. 120.
Faure may still not be the best known composer of chamber music, but this issue with two of his major works tells us yet again what a good one he was. The excellent craftsmanship we may take for granted, but although he did not wear his heart on his sleeve there is a real passion in this writing too, as the surging opening movement of the C minor Piano Quartet (written in his early thirties) reminds us.
Faure may still not be the best known composer of chamber music, but this issue with two of his major works tells us yet again what a good one he was. The excellent craftsmanship we may take for granted, but although he did not wear his heart on his sleeve there is a real passion in this writing too, as the surging opening movement of the C minor Piano Quartet (written in his early thirties) reminds us.
The two sonatas for cello and piano along with the D minor Piano Trio were among the last works that Fauré was to complete before his death in 1924 at the ripe old age of 79. Despite the many dire circumstances that filled the latter years of Fauré's life, and in light of his choice to score each of these pieces in dark, minor keys, all three compositions have many moments of complete joy. The two cello sonatas are performed by cellist Christian Poltéra and pianist Kathryn Stott. Both artists have an impeccable sense of line and flow and are able to spin out the long, wandering phrases Fauré lays down.
The music on this 2-disc set and its companion 'Vol 2' set is among the loveliest chamber music you can find anywhere, at least to my mind. Most people know Faure for his gentle 'Requiem,' but anyone wanting to explore the melody-rich world of late 19th-century French Romanticism can't go wrong with these recordings. All of this music is utterly non-flashy and breathtakingly beautiful, never cloying or oversweet like so many works of this period. Faure, an essentially old fashioned guy, was a consummate craftsman and an imaginative melodist.
For the fourth and penultimate volume of his Fauré series, Eric Le Sage has been joined by Alexandre Tharaud, Emmanuel Pahud, and François Salque, long-standing accomplices, in order to record these pieces for four hands. Recipient of numerous prizes both in France and abroad, this complete Fauré series is already asserting itself as a reference for the interpretation of Gabriel Fauré’s chamber music with piano.
The Fauré Quartet offers a very attractive pairing of Brahms’ Op. 25 & Op. 60 piano quartets. The Op. 25 (Piano Quartet No. 1) sounds so fully fleshed-out that you wonder why Schoenberg felt obliged to arrange it for orchestra. His complaint was that the piano played too loudly for him to hear the string instruments–not so in this performance. All instruments sound with clarity and detail, even with the pianist’s assertive and emotive playing. (The recording’s spacious acoustic and expertly judged balances may have much to do with this.) The Fauré’s performance emphasizes the music’s rich lyricism (particularly in the slow movement) but also its lively rhythms–most prominently in the wildly dancing finale, here done with impeccable style and engaging fervor.
Is there a better trio than the Florestan playing today? All three members are consummate artists, outstanding instrumentalists, and ensemble players to the manner born, but it’s the playing of pianist Susan Tomes that carries these performances to their greatest heights. Since the ensemble is perfectly judged by all concerned, it may seem unjust to single out the playing of one member for special comment, but such is the extreme sophistication, the extraordinary subtlety and the expressive range of this artist that I can see no alternative. The tonal control, the exquisite shaping of phrases, the rhythmical suppleness and structural backbone are of an order seldom encountered in the playing even of many famous soloists. But what renders her playing here still more remarkable is the exemplary precision with which it’s matched to the different sonorities and qualities of attack, so-called, of the string players. And what players they are. For all of the above this is not a pianist-dominated performance, except insofar as Schubert wrote the piece that way.