Of Prokofiev’s three chamber works for violin and piano, only the first sonata was originally conceived for the violin, and that work took eight years to complete. The second sonata was completed before the first, because it is a transcription, organized by David Oistrakh, of Prokofiev’s Flute Sonata. The Cinq mélodies were written in California in 1920 as vocalises for mezzosoprano, only to be turned into a popular violin work several years later, in Paris.

Prokofiev, the pianist, did not play the violin, which explains some of the enthusiasm for transcribing his earlier works. His slow progress on the first sonata seems in part to have been from political shock at Stalin’s great purge, launched shortly after Prokofiev’s return to Russia. In addition, the composer kept putting it aside for bigger commissions, such as the opera, War and Peace.

Even after the first public performance in 1946, Prokofiev continued to alter the score. He was unsatisfied with the sober performance by Oistrakh and Lev Oberin. Prokofiev kept inserting dynamic markings so that their interpretation (“like two old professors”) would not establish a standard. Yet at Prokofiev’s 1953 funeral, it was Oistrakh who played the first and third movements, which were deemed to be among the few pieces in the composer’s legacy which were not fundamentally happy and optimistic.

Franziska Pietsch is a German violinist, once a prodigy in the German Democratic Republic. She and Detlev Eisinger offer big-boned and fully engaged readings of these works. Prokofiev set the dark tone for the first sonata by describing the violin’s muted runs in the first and last movements as an “autumn evening wind blowing across a neglected cemetery grave.” Pietsch and Eisinger are appropriately disquieting, with dramatic gestures and technical assurance.

Alina Ibragimova and Steven Osborne recorded the same works for Hyperion in 2014, to much praise. Both recordings are quite excellent, but they differ in which Russian composer is imagined to be Prokofiev’s musical cousin. Ibragimova and Osborne place Prokofiev in proximity to Stravinsky’s aesthetic world, stressing the cool, detached neoclassical elements that exist in both sonatas. In contrast, Pietsch and Eisinger’s Prokofiev seems closer to Shostakovich, with anxiety never far beneath the surface. Their performances are less tightly controlled, more boisterous, urgent, and energetic. Thus the Andante of the first sonata soars serenely in Ibragamova’s hands, but unsettles a bit in Pietsch. The final Allegrissimo at times sounds merry for Ibragamova but darker and harsher for Pietsch. Both performances give enormous pleasure, but each is shaped by a different conception of the music.

The Cinq mélodies are more than filler, but are well-played but light-weight companions to the pair of violin sonatas.

The recording has a slightly cavernous, churchly sound. Why do music producers imagine that empty churches offer a happy location for recording chamber music? But as with many audio complaints, this one ceases to be an issue after listening for a few minutes and entering the sound-world of two outstanding performers. The music is recorded up close, with lots of power.

My Musicweb International colleague David Barker reviewed Volume 2 of this five-disc series in December 2015 (who knows, maybe even concurrently with the Swiss Trio recording the Variations presented here). If five discs seems a lot of space, it is because they are making their survey into Beethoven’s works for piano trio as comprehensive as possible, and including not only the Triple Concerto, but also the Trio, Op. 38, the original arrangement of the Septet, Op. 20. There is a lot going for Volume 3, not least the rather interesting premise that the Swiss Piano Trio (Schweizer Klaviertrio) has used Czerny’s Errinerungen an Beethoven (Reminiscences of Beethoven, Vienna, 1842) as an inspiration for their interpretations, particularly the chapter “On the correct performance of Beethoven’s complete works with piano accompaniment.”

Perhaps as an extension of this informed approach, the booklet notes on the works themselves are remarkably detailed. Such attention to detail extends to the performances themselves, all of them caught in a fabulous, perfectly-placed recording.

The Piano Trio, Op. 1/3, in Beethoven’s favourite C minor key, is a major four-movement statement which holds in place of a slow movement an “Andante cantabile con variazioni,” which actually here is the highlight of the performance. The five variations are expertly characterised, and they are not afraid of internalising. Sighing phrases are deliciously done; the group is not afraid of drama, also. And excellent programming, to boot, in that this prefigures the larger set of Variations to follow (Op. 44). The Menuetto has its more restless moments (deliberately coming across as a touch off-centre), but it has its beauties, also, not least the feather touch of pianist Martin Lucas Staub in the rapid upward-reaching gestures. The finale’s strong outbursts of energy are perfectly judged.

Beethoven’s Variation sets always hold much interest as well as delight, and Op. 44 is no exception. The E flat major theme is simple and bare-boned, given out in mezzo-staccato and in octaves, primed for exploration, and the succeeding 14 Variations include much eloquence from the present performers, not least from Sébastien Singer’s cello. Finally, the Piano Trio No. 6 of 1808, also in E flat. The skeletal Poco sostenuto opening is taken at a very flowing tempo, following Czerny, and enables the Allegro ma non troppo main body of the movement to emerge naturally. The allegro itself holds some lovely sighing gestures, while the second movement Allegretto holds some real grit. The ensuing Allegro ma no troppo is a dream, with a terrific sense of flow; the finale feels perfectly calculated here, from its baseline tempo through its exploration of the varying terrain. No mere throwaway finale, this movement balances the depth of the first movement. The Swiss Piano trio gives a remarkably satisfying account of this rewarding piece.

A lovely release, one that shows the dynamism of thee works. Collectors will doubtless have their favourites in this repertoire, for many it will be the Beaux Arts Trio, although I hold a particular affection for Kempff with Szeryng and Fournier on DG in the two main Trios.

After the end of the Second World War, at a time when EMI’s Walter Legge was re-establishing continental European contacts, Paul Kletzki became a valued addition to the roster of the company’s artists. He directed a performance of Brahms’s Fourth Symphony with the Swiss Festival Orchestra – it’s better known today as the Lucerne Festival Orchestra – that was released on 78s and was something of a calling card for both orchestra, with which Legge was delighted, and, of course, conductor. The last day of that recording session, 7 September 1946, saw an additional event, namely an evening’s charity concert during when Kletzki and the orchestra reprised the Brahms they had just recorded and added two other pieces to form the release now issued by Audite.

His later Czech Philharmonic LP may be more familiar than the 78 but few Kletzki admirers would want to be without the ancillary pleasures of this live performance, notwithstanding its very close approximation to the 78 set. It’s a performance of architectural surety and expressive balance. Kletzki was not one for quirks or peculiarities and he invariably saw straight to the heart of things. Thus this reading is flexible but never rhythmically flabby, and whilst the string choirs don’t sing out, this may be as much to do with the rather constricted sound as anything else. The horns certainly sound on fine form – albeit there is a touch of distortion, especially noticeable in the second movement – and though the Lucerne winds can be a touch pinched tonally they are well balanced and generally personable-sounding. The Andante is nobly conceived, its narrative finely detailed, the scherzo propulsive. With a powerfully but musically convincing finale all that this really needs is slightly better engineering and a more open top, the better to capture the hall ambience. Otherwise, it reveals Kletzki, yet again, as a musician lacking grandiose pretentions but possessing the firmest architectural strengths.

Much the same goes for Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony which, whilst Kletzki jettisons the first movement repeat, is notably well-phrased and conceived in dramatic terms. There’s swish audible throughout but principally during the second movement where it becomes quite intrusive. I suspect that attempts to limit this have also taken some of the higher frequencies with it which accounts for the somewhat cramped sound. Nevertheless, the performance itself is deeply impressive, as is the intensity that Kletzki locates in the Leonore Overture No.3. There’s some chuffing here, too, and overload hints in forte outbursts.

These relatively minor distractions apart, Audite has done well to restore this concert. Documentation is first class.

Der norwegische Dirigent Eivind Aadland hat die Musik Griegs von Kindesbeinen an verinnerlicht. Mit dem Sinfonieorchester des Westdeutschen Rundfunks hat er für Audite eine vielfach ausgezeichnete Kompletteinspielung aller Orchesterwerke inklusive der Bühnenmusiken vorgelegt. Die fünf Hybrid-SACDs mit Mehrkanalspur liegen zum Teil auch auf hervorragenden Stereo-LPs vor.

Für seine beherzte Mischung aus "italienischer" Leidenschaft und "deutsch-österreichischem" Strukturbewusstsein steht ihre ausgefeilte Wiedergabe des Kopfsatzes des frühen Opus 18 Nr. 6.

[...] während sein Spätstil bisweilen zur Überpointierung neigte, sang „DiFiDi“ zu Beginn seiner Karriere noch wunderbar balanciert zwischen Klangschönheit und „Klartext“.

Das ausgewählte Finale ist ein kraftvolles Spiel der Farben und Rhythmen. Die in Ostberlin aufgewachsene Geigerin Franziska Pietsch hat bereits die Grieg-Sonaten für Audite produziert. Mit ihrem Klavierpartner Detlev Eisinger erfüllt sie auch Prokofieff-Werke mit tiefster Intensität.

[...] die Aufführung des so quirligen wie tragischen Werkes vom 21. September 1952 geriet zum Triumph – auf Tonträger ein kulturhistorisches Dokument ersten Ranges.
Der legendäre William Warfield mit der blutjungen Leontyne Price in den Titelrollen sowie dem grandiosen Cab Calloway als Sportin‘ Life setzen noch heute die Maßstäbe. Das RIAS-Unterhaltungsorchester unter Alexander Smallens bemüht sich beachtlich auch um die „Blue Notes“.

Im Jubiläumsjahr 1988 dirigierte er [Claudio Abbado] das Chamber Orchestra of Europe mit Toscaninis Premieren-Programm. Und vom 25. August ist uns das meisterhaft in alle Subtilität ausgehorchte Wagner-Werk vom Schweizer Rundfunk erhalten.

So vital und explosiv die Künstlerin Prokofieff abfeuert, so traumhaft und graziös findet sie den Weg in Schuberts zum Teil ja auch suchende, experimentelle Klangwelt.