|
1 CD -
SK 68 252 - (p) 1996
|
|
VIVARTE - 60
CD Collection Vol. 2 - CD 7 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
String Sextets |
|
69' 41" |
|
|
|
|
|
Johannes BRAHMS
(1833-1897) |
|
|
|
String
Sextet No. 1 in B flat major, Op. 18 |
|
33' 25" |
|
- Allegro ma non
troppo
|
13' 14" |
|
1
|
-
Andante ma moderato
|
8' 12" |
|
2
|
-
Scherzo. Allegro molto - Trio.
Animato |
2' 56" |
|
3 |
-
Rondo. Poco allegretto e grazioso |
9' 03" |
|
4
|
String
Sextet No. 2 in G major, Op. 36
|
|
34'
07"
|
|
-
Allegro non troppo |
12' 52" |
|
5
|
-
Scherzo. Allegro non troppo -
(Trio). Presto giocoso |
6' 07" |
|
6
|
-
Adagio
|
8' 44" |
|
7 |
-
Poco allegro |
8' 24" |
|
8
|
|
|
|
|
L'Archibudelli |
|
- Vera Beths, violin
(Antonio Stradivari, Cremona, 1727) |
|
- Marilyn McDonald, violin
(Andrea Guarnieri, Cremona, 1670) |
|
- Jürgen Kussmaul, viola
(William Forster, London, 1785) |
|
- Guus Jeukendrup, viola
(Max Möller, Amsterdam, 1947) |
|
- Anner Bylsma, cello
(Gianfranco Pressenda, Turin, 1835) |
|
- Kenneth Slowik, cello
(Carlo antonio Testore, Milan, c.1750) |
|
|
|
|
|
Luogo
e data di registrazione |
|
Lutheran Church,
Haarlem (The Netherlands) - 9/12
June 1995 |
|
|
Registrazione: live
/ studio |
|
studio |
|
|
Producer /
Recording supervisor |
|
Wolf Erichson |
|
|
Recording Engineer
/ Editing
|
|
Markus Heiland
(Tritonus) |
|
|
Prima Edizione LP |
|
- |
|
|
Prima Edizione CD |
|
Sony / Vivarte - SK
68 252 - (1 CD) - durata 69' 41" -
(p) 1996 - DDD |
|
|
Cover Art
|
|
Garten mit
Sonnnenblumen by Gustav
Klimt (1862-1918) - Vienna,
Österreichische Galerie im
Belvédère |
|
|
Note |
|
-
|
|
|
|
|
The
string sextet as a genre
offers many splendid
sonorities, adding tenor
(viola II) and bass (cello II)
voices to the richness of the
string quartet. Yet this form
has attracted surprisingly few
composers. Although the
sextets of Dvorak, Gade, Raff,
Schoenberg, Spohr, Strauss and
Tchaikovsky have become
cornerstones of the chamber
repertoire, none has won such
widespread approbation as that
awarded the two sextets of
Johannes Brahms, Opp. 18 and
36.
Much has been made of the fact
that Brahms's sextets predate
his three surviving string
quartets, the first two of
which make up Op. 51, as if he
had been hesitant to challenge
the acknowledged masters of
the string quartet on their
own territory. Attention has
also been directed to certain
similarities between the
sextets and the two bucolic
orchestral Serenades, Opp. 11
and 16. While there are
certainly parallels to be
drawn, in the final analysis
the two sextets inhabit their
own world distinct not only
from the Serenades, but also
from Spohr's equally eloquent
Op. 140 sextet of 1848. Brahms
was probably acquainted with
it through his violinist
friend Joseph Joachim. Spohr's
sextet, the only one of the
above-cited sextets composed
before the Op. 18, might well
have suggested the genre to
Brahms.
“However,
if you don't like the
piece,
then
by all means send it
back to me.”
In a letter
written in November 1859 to
Clara Schumann announcing
completion of the second
Serenade, Brahms refers to a
string septet on which
he has embarked. But, by
September of the following
year, Brahms sent “the finished
sextet” to Joachim with a
rather typically
self-deprecatory note: “I'm
afraid that as I've tarried so
long over the piece, your
expectations will not have
been raised! But since God
makes all things possible, I
am sending you the parts,in
case the Rondo should strike
your fancy. If you don't have
any particular remarks to
make, and if it pleases you,
then let Deierberg copy them
out, charging it to my
account. I look forward to
being invited soon to a
rehearsal. However, if you
don't like the piece, then by
all means send it back to me.”
Joachim kept the work, and
premièred it in October 1860,
but not before making a number
of useful suggestions that
Brahms incorporated into the
final version, including
assigning the opening
statement of the first
movemerit's theme to the first
cello rather than to the first
violin. (The frequency with
which soaring melodies are
entrusted to the cello
throughout the two sextets
recalls not only Brahms's
predilection for that
instrument, already evident in
the opening of the Op. 8 Piano
Trio, but also the similar
writing in Schubert's C major
Quintet, which, despite its
slightly leaner scoring, may
well be their true spiritual
progenitor.)
The Sextet in B flat
major, Op. 18,
frequently called the most
accessible of Brahms's chamber
works, is, like the Serenades,
of markedly “Classical” design
but exhibits as well many of
its creator`s compositional
preoccupations. The first
movement's lyricism and the Ländler-like
dance rhythms of several of
its themes are patently
Schubertian, while the third
movement brings to mind the
Haydnesque Scherzo of the Op.
11 Serenade. In the finale,
folksong elements enliven the
Classical rondo form. The
slow-movement variations rely
heavily on Baroque models,
with several clear references
to two of Brahms's favorite
variation sets, Bach's D minor
Chaconne for solo violin and
Beethovein's C minor
Variations for piano, Wo0 80.
“Free
but happy”
Like Op. 18,
the Sextet in G major,
Op. 36, may also
be considered retrospective,
though for entirely different
reasons. In the summer of 1858
Brahms was invited to
Göttingen by his fellow
composer Julius Otto Grimm.
There he met the young soprano
Agathe von Siebold, whose
“magical“ voice Joachim
compared to the sound of an
Amati violin. The relationship
developed over a two-month
period of regular contact, and
continued through letters, now
lost, described by Agathe as
“sources of the deepest and
purest joy,” to the point
that, by early 1859, some
declaration from Brahms was
expected. (The engagement ring
seen on Brahms`s hand in a
photo taken at Göttingen
during this period was never
publicly acknowledged.)
Pressed by Grimm and others,
Brahms wrote to his “Gathe” in
a letter she quoted in her
menioirs: “I love you! I must
see you again! But I cannot
wear fetters. Write to me
whether I am to come back, to
take you in my arms, to kiss
you and tell you that I love
you.” Stung by Brahms's view
of their love as burdensome
(she perhaps did not take
seriously enough his motto
“Frei aber froh” - free but
happy), she sent him in return
a letter of refusal. As a
result, the two never met
again, and each felt the wound
of the severance for some time
to come. It was ten years
before Agathe eventually
married, and only when she was
an old woman could she bring
herself to reply to the
greeting Brahms sent her
through Joachim. The composer,
for his part, though he
occasionally flirted in later
life, consciously suppressed
his feelings whenever he felt
them in danger of getting out
of hand, confessing that he
had “some cause to fear the
gentle sex.”
For Brahms,
release came during the
composition of the G major
sextet (1864/5), wherein, he
told the singer Josef
Gänsbacher, “I have freed
myself from my last love.”
The reference would have been
clear to anyone who, like
Brahms and the Schumanns,
relished musical ciphers, for
Agathe's name is invoked three
times at the lyrical climax of
the first movement's second
subject (D is substituted for
the otherwise unavailable T;
in German, B natural is H).
The G major Sextet was first
published in April 1866, and
later that same year received
its public première on October
11 in Boston, Massachusetts,
with a Zurich performance
following in mid-November.
“In
the brightness of
morning”
Notes on
the recording
The
instruments used here are
equipped with gut strings, as
they would have been in
Brahms's time, rather than
with the steel, or
nylon-and-steel, strings
almost ubiquitous today
Although the gradual
acceptance of steel strings
began in the early years of
our century, the title of
Siegfried Eberhardt's 1938 Recovery
or Ruin of the Art of Violin
Playing (The Steel
String, Enemy of Art)
makes it clear that the
transition was not
accomplished without a
struggle. Steel strings were
both more reliable and much
less expensive than their gut
counterparts,but, as Anton
Mingotti's 1949 study The
Law of Movement in the
Playing of String
Instruments concluded:
“There is no doubt that the
tone of the gut string,
correctly played, is superior
in every way to that of the
steel string, and that the
extraordinary effect which was
peculiar to perfect violin
playing has greatly
deteriorated with the use of
the steel string. [...] The
argument, frequently used,
that a prominent yiolinist
will get outstanding results
on steel strings is not
cogent; one can refute it by
saying that the effect would
still be substantially
enhanced if he used gut
strings.”
Just as instruments have
changed since Brahms`s lime,
so too have our perceptions of
his music. In particular, the
sextets are frequently
performed in an effusively
sentimental manner. In
preparing the present
recording, we chose instead to
rely on the description
provided by the influential
Viennese music critic Max
Kalbeck, a strong partisan and
personal friend of the
composer's, whose multi-volume
biography has served as a
cornerstone for all subsequent
Brahms scholarship: “[In the
Sextet Op.18,] the noclurnal
atmosphere and nighttime magic
of the Serenades is
transformed into the mood of
an early summer morning. No
Romantic fog hangs over the
sextet, and no shimmering
moonlight obliterates its
contours. No, it is as clear
as a brightly lit day, when
the sun, mirrored in the
diamond dew drops of a
thousand flowers, illuminates
every nook and cranny with its
happiest beams. The melodies
sound as if they were being
sung by a healthy, well-rested
voice, as if they breathed the
refreshing early morning air
of a promising young life.
Goethe's Ganymed, an
extremely musical poem,
proclaims (insofar as the
poet`s words can approach the
musicianis ecstasy) much the
same bliss: “How you glow upon
me, in the brightness of
morning, all around me, O
Spring, my lover!”
In 1865, Brahms himself
described the second sextet as
possessing “the same jovial
character" as the first. By
1929, however, the renowned
English writer on music Sir
Donald Tovey was lauding the
lìrst sextet for its
“pervading Olympian calm,
asserted in the opening and
maintained throughout at a
height which annihilates the
distinction between Classical
and Romantic, and
which is as far above
formality as it is above more
tempting foolishness,” while
calling the second “the most
ethereal of all Brahms's
larger works.”
It is Kalbeck's vision, rather
than Tovey's, that we seek to
realize.
©
1996 Kenneth Slowik
|
|
|