MusicWeb International reviews album Epilogues
David McDade I MusicWeb International I July 6, 2023
It is a strange thing that three composers as different as Brahms, Saint-Saëns and Poulenc should each have turned to the clarinet late in their respective careers. It goes without saying almost that the sound of the clarinet provokes the idea of the autumnal shading into the wintry – or perhaps autumnal masterpieces such as the clarinet quintets of Mozart and Brahms have imprinted these associations in our minds? Either way, these ‘last thoughts’ are the theme of this lovely album. The title ‘Epilogues’ seems appropriate since all three works sit outside the main body of each composer’s work, reflecting on a life in a largely low key, somewhat nostalgic manner.
The major works are, of course, the two late clarinet sonatas by Brahms, products of his emergence from retirement inspired by the playing of Richard Mühlfeld. Whilst these two works have been recorded a lot, they have never quite acquired the popularity of the contemporaneous quintet for clarinet and strings. Musically, in their tightly organised structures and introverted moods they have more in common with the late piano pieces than either the quintet or Brahms’ orchestral output. They require careful handling from the performers. It is interesting to note that these two performers describe themselves as a Duo as these works are certainly not star vehicles for the clarinetist. The piano parts, typically for Brahms, are very extensive and much more than accompaniments. Not only do clarinet and piano need to play as one, they need to enter as one into the understated, sometimes elusive world of late Brahms.
For two works that are essentially lyrical in inspiration, it is surprising how many ugly, hard edged sounds have been visited upon them on record! I am happy to report that Shtrykov plays with a luscious, liquid tone of which I am sure Brahms would have approved. It probably helps that, unusually, the clarinetist is listed as the producer. The piano sound has a warm, muted quality that had me wondering if it was something other than the standard Steinway Model D (it is a Steinway D).
These are both excellent performances but that of the E flat sonata stands out for the performers’ ability to capture that sense of low October sunlight on varicoloured leaves: the sudden change of mood at the end of the first movement like someone suddenly recalling a past sadness; the gentle playfulness of the finale tempered with wistfulness.
As for the F minor sonata, too many performers go for a strident, heroic tone when that isn’t what this piece is about at all. It needs to be seen – as on this record – as the flip side of the E flat where the balance of tenderness and melancholy is reversed. Overweight the F minor and that delicate balance is destroyed. Shtrykov and Tanaka judge it just right. This is not a tragic piece of music.
After the autumnal light and shade of the Brahms, the Saint-Saëns brings a portrait of a much more contented old age. Motivated by a desire to expand the solo repertoire of less favoured instruments, this is a defiantly tonal work with the composer not just defying the dying of the light but also having no truck with modernism in 1921. A largely good humoured piece expertly written to show off the virtuosity of the clarinet, Saint-Saëns delivers considerable charm with just the right amount of sadness to leaven proceedings. It sounds like a sunny, crisp autumn morning in the hands of these performers with that liquid sound of Shtrykov’s perfectly matched to every run and arpeggio.
The Poulenc sonata has that characteristic fusion of gentle, dry humour and his own brand of worldly wise melancholy that only ever seems a short step from sentimentality. At this point in his career, Poulenc seemed to go out of his way to avoid grand gestures and big statements and so it is with this sonata. Whilst piano and clarinet scurry about a lot more than in either the Brahms or the Saint-Saëns, the underlying mood isn’t all that different. Inspired by the loss of his friend and fellow composer, Arthur Honegger, the sadness that underscores this work is of the kind when a person has reached the age where their friends start to pass away rather than the deep anguish of unexpected loss. Shtrykov and Tanaka sensibly place the emphasis on the sensitive, quieter, sadder elements of the music rather than the more capricious ones which anchors the piece. They understand too that, as Tanaka mentions in her excellent liner note, there is a certain Gallic insouciance even to Poulenc’s grief. Overstate it and it collapses like a soufflé too long out of the oven.
It may seem a little banal but the word I keep coming back to with this recording is ‘lovely’. It is of course beautifully played but there is a real affection behind the enterprise: affection for the composers and between the musicians.
David McDade