Gidon Kremer: Mieczyslaw Weinberg: Sonatas for Violin Solo
ECM

Certain names are synonymous with ECM, Manfred Eicher's, of course, and Arvo Pärt's, Keith Jarrett's, and Gidon Kremer's too—how fitting that one of the latter's best-known performances should be the defining one he and Jarrett gave Pärt's Fratres on 1984's Tabula Rasa. The sound of Kremer's violin is instantly recognizable, with his confident, razor-sharp attack having graced innumerable ECM releases. As much as he's championed the work of contemporary composers such as Pärt, Giya Kancheli, and Sofia Gubaidulina, he's also given his attention to Bach with the release of Sonatas and Partitas for Violin Solo.

Kremer's latest album, issued on the occasion of his seventy-fifth birthday, presents three sonatas by Mieczyslaw Weinberg (1919-96), the violinist's third release to focus on the Polish-Jewish composer's music after ones featuring chamber music and chamber symphonies. Playing a violin made in 1641, Kremer performs the pieces in reverse chronological order, with 1979's third followed by the second and first, written in 1967 and 1964, respectively. Adding to the material's appeal is the fact that the third, written in memory of the composer's father, is structured as a twenty-two-minute single movement (though distinct sections are discernible) while the second comprises seven short parts and the first five. Kremer's playing has never been more naked than in these solo performances, but his violin mastery is evident at every moment.

The Warsaw-born Weinberg fled Poland after the German invasion of WWII and eventually settled in Moscow at the suggestion of Shostakovich, who'd admired Weinberg's first symphony and became a close friend. Calling Weinberg prolific hardly does the term justice when his output numbers twenty-six symphonies, seventeen string quartets, seven operas, scores to sixty films, 200-plus songs, and more. Having produced such a voluminous body of work, it doesn't surprise that many of the works weren't performed during his lifetime. While his profile certainly doesn't rival Pärt's, Kancheli's, or Gubaidulina's, the attention Kremer's brought to his work has helped make him better-known and sparked new appreciation of his music. That Kremer would be drawn to the composer's three violin sonatas makes sense, considering their technical and expressive challenges.

The third opens the release with ferocious phrases, aggressive double-stops, and devilish melodic figures. As furious as the opening part is, the subsequent one dramatically departs from it for being a lyrical and tender ode played in the high register. After parts designed as respective portraits of his father and mother, a playful evocation of the composer's childhood follows, this one distinguished by staccato effects and rhythmic buoyancy; a transitional episode marked by double stops segues into a series of blazing trills and eloquent contemplation. The violinist never falters as he progresses through the sections, each one connecting to the next through the fervent conviction of the performance. It is, full stop, a bravura performance by Kremer, one that meets the many and considerable challenges of Weinberg's writing.

After the intensity of the third sonata, the brevity of the second's seven movements isn't unwelcome. Compared to the opening performance, the second sonata exudes a somewhat leisurely feel, as if the violinist has been ceded the luxury of time to work through it methodically and focus on one part at a time. That said, intense moments do arise, during “Intervals,” for example, with its double stops and large leaps in pitch. Contrasts are plentiful also: whereas the mercurial “Replies” and sinuous “Accompaniment” rapidly alternate between bowing, pizzicato, and strums, “Invocation” opts for emphatic double stops.

Unlike the two that came after it, the first sonata is structured more conventionally with movements designated “Andante,” “Allegretto,” and the like. It's no less compelling a creation, however, as the forceful opening movement shows. The “Andante” effectively spotlights the composer's lyrical side, Kremer's double stops again enlivening the performance. As if anticipating the sonatas that would follow it, the first gives each movement a dramatically different tone and style, with the playfulness of the “Allegretto,” for instance, unlike the stabbing attack driving the “Lento.”

June 2022