Despite the appeal and popularity of Bloch’s Schelomo, his 
three solo cello suites have not been widely recorded. They were written
 late in the composer’s life, in 1956-57, after he had retired from 
teaching at the University of California, Berkeley, and were inspired by
 the Canadian cellist Zara Nelsova. Unfortunately, Nelsova, who worked 
closely with Bloch in the years after the end of the Second World War, 
left no recording of the pieces. The German cellist Peter Bruns recorded
 them in 1997, on a disc that also included key cello works from earlier
 in the composer’s career, including From Jewish Life and Baal Shem, 
when Bloch was self-consciously interested in discovering within himself
 what it meant to be a Jewish composer.
The late-in-life solo 
suites are very different in tone from those earlier works, more 
meditative and introspective, and while listeners will easily detect 
similar melodic contours to the music Bloch was writing in his Jewish 
Cycle works, these suites lack the long, ardent lines of Schelomo,
 though none of its expressive power. Cellist Natalie Clein keeps the 
expressive range within autumnal parameters: melancholy, lightly 
fretful, inward and dignified. Whereas Bruns is more forcefully 
rhetorical and demonstrative, Clein plays intimately, as if for herself 
alone. But there is nothing hermetic about her approach. Gently, 
insistently, quietly, she draws the listener into Bloch’s music and the 
results are thoroughly absorbing.
Rather than pair these 
relatively short works—made up of four or five movements each, most 
lasting only a few minutes—with other works by Bloch, Clein couples them
 with Dallapiccola’s 1945 Ciaccona, Intermezzo e Adagio, thorny 
but powerful, written at the same time as he was working on his 
tremendously bleak opera Il prigioniero, and Ligeti’s 1948-53 
two-movement Sonata for solo cello. Clein is every bit as commanding in 
the formidably difficult Dallapiccola as she is retiring in the Bloch, 
and her performance of the Adagio theme in the Ligeti is four minutes of
 pure, concentrated beauty. This lovely disc reveals the cello as a kind
 of private sketch pad, or journal, capturing big emotions on a small 
scale, with a poetic concentration in sharp contrast to the larger, more
 furious musical gestures of the post-war moment. (Gramophone)

 
 
 
 
 
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