
Moog’s view of these pieces is the loving result of countless
performances and long reflection on the music: his pacing and phrasing
feel absolutely natural, and rubato sounds inevitably right. Moog
relishes the music’s broad intervals with heartfelt portamentos.
Although he keeps mostly to the higher, ‘clarinet’ version of both
sonatas, he does make an exception for the beginning of the F minor
piece – the warmth of the C and G strings is too good to lose! Moog’s
tone may not be as immediately seductive as, say, William Primrose’s
or Yuri Bashmet’s but its sinewy quality fits the music’s
autumnal mood like the proverbial glove. Hashiba is a thoughtful partner
throughout.
In a booklet interview, Mönkemeyer claims to play the E flat major Sonata ‘from the clarinet part’ but of course he does no such
thing: some telltale double-stops and the odd changed pitch point to the
usual viola part, albeit restored (mostly) to the original, higher
octave. Conversely, Mönkemeyer keeps to the traditional, ‘low’ version
of the F minor Sonata, which suits the piece’s tragic hue but results in
anticlimactic octave drops. Mönkemeyer’s tempos are consistently on the
broad side and, combined with his suavely sweet trademark tone (and a
more resonant acoustic than in Moog’s more closely balanced recording),
they make for a very different, to my ears more mannered experience.
Youn is a stimulatingly proactive collaborator. Mönkemeyer’s coupling of
the Hungarian Dances is lightweight in comparison with Moog’s, who
includes Fuchs’s very Brahmsian Sonata and Kiel’s rarely recorded
Romances, redolent of late Schumann. (Carlos Maráa Solare)
Comentarios
Publicar un comentario