Nach dem weltweiten Erfolg der fünf Klavierkonzerte von Camille Saint-Saëns in...

Richard Franck was born in 1858, son of Eduard Franck, also a composer of distinction although neither of their names are well known now. Over the past few years the German record label Audite has devoted several issues to the music of both father and son, with the help of their descendants – the latter playing an important role, as I believe much of the music of Eduard Franck (a seemingly modest man, despite his exceptional gifts) remains in manuscript and he displayed little interest in having it published. If one wanted an example of hereditary genius these two composers would appear to be an a good one: admittedly both were rather conservative for their respective times, eschewing the more modern musical developments followed by their contemporaries but they share an apparently limitless fund of beautiful melody, an exquisite hand at scoring and what seems to be an innate gift for creating satisfying musical structures, logical but not lacking in imagination; for all their respect for the received tradition, nothing I have heard by either composer sounds stale or trite.

If you haven't heard any of Richard Franck's music, the radiant piano quartet in A major could well be the ideal place to start. A substantial work in four movements, it contains music of rapt lyricism – the opening ‘Allegro’ is a predominantly congenial piece, its flowing opening melody suspended over a lilting rhythm in the piano; this gently dancing quality and rhythm will inform much of the consummately crafted sonata form movement that follows. It precedes an exquisite ‘adagio’, whose primary theme resonates in the mind long after the work has finished playing – harp-like accompanying figuration in the piano and pizzicato strings lends this luminous movement a decided song-like quality, one that is maintained even in the contrasting central section with its somewhat archaic sounding fugal writing. It all really is quite magical in its effect. In place of a scherzo there is a gentle allegretto in which the spirit of the ballroom is not far away. It is succeeded by an impassioned ‘allegro’ finale, the exuberance of which occasionally subsides into more romantically inclined secondary material. Of all the works I have heard by Richard Franck, I have to say that this wonderfully conceived and executed piano quartet is the one that draws me back most often.

His second piano quartet, in E major, is a strikingly contrasted work in scale and structure if not in idiom. Indeed, it occupies a similar sound world to its predecessor though there is more ardour here and, perhaps, less radiance; the soaring primary theme emerges from dark hued opening bars in the bass registers of the instruments; the contrasts of light and shade are more pronounced through the short course of this work. It is that conciseness of expression that marks this quartet out as so different to the earlier work – the whole piece lasts a mere 8'48" and is in one movement, though the tempo markings suggest that the traditional four-part series is contained within its span*: the final allegro section acts as a sort of recapitulation of the material presented at the start of the work. It was certainly well-received by the critics in Franck's lifetime, the liner notes quoting two contemporary reviews of performances – “Full of energy, temperament and refinement, the perfectly realised conception of this interesting work was communicated to us.”**

The disc concludes with three fantasies for solo piano, originally conceived independently but grouped together for publication as his opus 28. The set is headed by a quotation from Goethe and the individual pieces each bear a poetical superscription too. Franck was renowned for his mastery of the piano and his performances drew praise; it shows in these fantasies, which he performed himself in public and which contain passages fair set to trip up the unwary concert pianist. They demand sensitivity as well as technical ability if their über-Romantic sensibilities are to be given their due for none of these works are empty display-pieces. Bernhard Frograscher proves himself to be well up to the task in hand on both fronts.

He is just one of four musicians here who all deliver pretty much perfect renditions of Franck's music; throughout they display both their sensitivity to and their affection for the composer's sophisticated but always warm-hearted writing. The sound quality is equally fine, which all adds up to a winning combination.

Heartily recommended and fully deserving of the full five stars on all counts – if I could award extra stars I would.
--------
* The tempo markings are: Allegro – Adagio – Allegro – Allegro.
** Casseler Allgemeine Zeitung, 21 January 1905.

No, this is not Cesar Franck, nor even a relative, nor, unfortunately, is his music nearly as effective as that of the French master. This disc of two piano trios is presumably a reasonably representative sample, since what little fame he achieved was in the genre of chamber music. Apt parallels are with the German chamber-music titans of the early and middle 19th century. These trios feature melodies that are pleasant, if somewhat four-square and predictable, and his harmonic palette is rather tame and pedantic. Occasionally, the melodic content aims higher, such as in the principal tune in the slow movement of the E-Minor Trio. Unfortunately an oddly pedestrian piano accompaniment dulls its effect. The Scherzo of the same trio is one of stronger movements, with a simple but effective ascending melodic trajectory that bears some kinship with Mendelssohn, a contemporary and mentor. A rare moment of genuine novelty occurs in the opening of the finale, which consists of an extended passage of unaccompanied violin, an unusual texture indeed in a trio.

In the D-Major Trio, the influences shift to Schumann and perhaps early Brahms. Harmonies are bit more advanced, yet still conservative for the era during which he composed. Melodies are more compact than in the earlier trio, and phrase lengths a measure less predictable. The slow movement has a moment or two of harmonic daring, but there is no follow-through that allows them dramatic weight. Again, the melodies are attractive but adorned with strangely dreary piano accompaniment. The frolicsome last movement bears the imprint of some of Brahms's rustic finales.

While there are many passages that are mildly effective, the trios as a whole are hampered by excessive length, a trait he perhaps borrowed from Schubert but could not manage nearly as well. Even in a first hearing, the ear is aware of unaltered repetitions and cookie-cutter structures.

It is hard to find fault with the view of this music heard through the fingers of the three musicians. They sound as though they have lived with the trios for more than just a recording session or two, and consistently play with sensitivity and insight. Their ensemble is secure and tightly integrated for the most part, though intonation from the strings is sometimes wanting, including a curious tendency to shrink leading tones to nearly the size of a quarter tone.

Those who have had their fill of the standard Romantic chamber music repertoire may wish to give Eduard Franck's music a listen. It certainly makes for pleasant, uncomplicated listening, but if you're looking for an unsung hero of the 19th century, you will most likely need to continue your search.

Neustadt an der Weinstraße – von Berlin aus nicht gerade ein Katzensprung....

Neustadt an der Weinstraße – von Berlin aus nicht gerade ein Katzensprung....

Neustadt an der Weinstraße – von Berlin aus nicht gerade ein Katzensprung....

Neustadt an der Weinstraße – von Berlin aus nicht gerade ein Katzensprung....

Neustadt an der Weinstraße – von Berlin aus nicht gerade ein Katzensprung....

Die wenigsten Leser werden Hideyo Harada auf dem Schirm haben. Die japanische...

Was auch immer das Schumann-Jahr uns an neuen Aufnahmen noch bescheren wird: Dieser dritten Audite-Produktion mit Hideyo Harada wird ein Platz im künstlerischen Spitzenfeld kaum streitig zu machen sein. Natürlich gibt es im Katalog schon viele überzeugende Interpretationen von Schumanns Klavierwerken. Aber nur ganz wenige Aufzeichnungen vereinen auf so gewinnende, ja atemberaubende Weise, was eine CD für die berühmte einsame Insel empfiehlt: makellose Texttreue, hervorragende pianistische Realisierung und sinngebende Interpretation. Und dies bei sehr gutem, natürlich brillantem State-of-the-Art-Klang.

Nur wer im Falle Schumanns romantischen und genialischen Überschwang für unverzichtbar hält, wird bei Harada nicht voll auf seine Kosten kommen. Aber es geht eben auch anders: Die in Deutschland lebende Japanerin ist eine Pianistin der klassisch klaren Umrisse (und einer inzwischen hervorragenden Pianissimo-Kultur), die aber die Werke fabelhaft auszuhören versteht und manuell in der Lage ist, ihre Vorstellungen perfekt zu realisieren – sogar die berüchtigt heikle Sprung-Coda des Mittelsatzes der Fantasie ist konturiert bewältigt. Dabei erspart sie sich und ihren Hörern alle konventionellen Vortragsgesten wie aufgesetzte Rubati oder zusammenhanglos hervorgehobene Melodietöne und Mittelstimmen, mit denen Klavierspieler so gern „auf Romantik“ machen. Harada spielt nur, was die Noten hergeben, dies aber mit aller Entschiedenheit und viel Fantasie. So gelingt es ihr, die bekannt „schwierigen“, versickernden Stellen in den Ecksätzen der C-Dur-Fantasie oder ähnlich heikle Passagen der„Kreisleriana“ wie selbstverständlich mit Leben zu erfüllen: eine fabelhaft erhellende Darstellung.