Schumann Cello

It is good to be reminded of du Pré’s vivid, intense and joyful music-making” wrote Gramophone of this pairing of cello concertos by Schumann and Saint-Saëns. “The Schumann has that kind of spontaneous freedom of line that made her account of the Elgar so famous. Her delicacy of response in the slow movement is matched by a romantic flair which carries the outer movements along so admirably. Barenboim directs a sympathetic accompaniment, following her subtle manipulation of rubato with complete understanding.

As one of the world's cello stars, Truls Mørk is sure to garner extravagant praise for this CD of Schumann's Concerto in A minor, Bloch's Schelomo, and Bruch's Kol Nidrei, all three essential vehicles for any cello virtuoso. However, there are two weaknesses in his playing that need addressing. First, and most noticeable, Mørk is too loose in his tempi and rhythms, almost to the point of amorphousness. His licentious rubato is most alarming in Schumann's Concerto, which really needs a rigorously shaped solo to hold the piece together; and even though Schelomo is patently more rhapsodic and Kol Nidrei more freely lyrical, Mørk pushes his freedom too far, almost as if his love for producing a gorgeous sound makes him forget the bar lines.

As one of the world's cello stars, Truls Mørk is sure to garner extravagant praise for this CD of Schumann's Concerto in A minor, Bloch's Schelomo, and Bruch's Kol Nidrei, all three essential vehicles for any cello virtuoso. However, there are two weaknesses in his playing that need addressing. First, and most noticeable, Mørk is too loose in his tempi and rhythms, almost to the point of amorphousness. His licentious rubato is most alarming in Schumann's Concerto, which really needs a rigorously shaped solo to hold the piece together; and even though Schelomo is patently more rhapsodic and Kol Nidrei more freely lyrical, Mørk pushes his freedom too far, almost as if his love for producing a gorgeous sound makes him forget the bar lines.

Philippe Herreweghe directs these Schumann concertos with severity and urgency, with an impact that’s particularly strong in the opening movement of the A minor piano concerto. The soloist is Andreas Staier, who plays a mid-19th century J.B. Streicher instrument. But it’s not just the use of period instruments (this is certainly the kind of piano Schumann would have known) that proves so fascinating here; rather, it’s the minutely detailed way in which soloist and conductor interact during this performance. Note, for instance, how astutely Herreweghe’s wind players articulate the sorrowful first subject group after the soloist’s opening salvo, a passage that sets the tone for all that follows.

Clara… Clara Wieck, who became Clara Schumann after marrying Robert in 1840, was a precocious and exceptional pianist. Starting recitals at the age of ten, she possessed a powerful technique and deep expressive capacity that she showcased in tours across Europe. After tense years, because Frédéric Wieck, her father and Robert’s teacher, deterred their rush to get married, when the union finally brought them familial happiness, it also brought numerous children, for which Clara’s career, although not stopped entirely, was limited considerably. Admired by Chopin, Liszt, and Mendelssohn as a performer, and more than admired, she was revered (and loved) by Brahms. As a composer, she wasn’t formally ambitious but she did display fine sensitivity and delicate inspiration. Her works always revolved around the piano, an instrument for which she cultivated brief forms typical of the romantic awakening, such as impromptus, waltzes, caprices, nocturnes, romances, and fantasies, and she also composed for the piano accompanying the voice (Lieder) and in various chamber formations, even with an orchestra.