The version of the sonata for solo violin, string orchestra and percussion goes back to the initiative of Sebastian Bohren. It was created by Andrei Pushkarev, percussionist in Gidon Kremer’s ‘Kremerata Baltica’, an accomplished arranger whose arrangements can be found in the reper- toire of numerous musicians. Pushkarev’s version follows the well-known orchestration of Shostakovich’s Violin Sonata op. 134 in the same instrumentation – albeit with vibraphone instead of xylophone – which he produced together with Michail Zinman in 2005 and which was also recorded by Sebastian Bohren in 2018.
The
players likewise bring the crucial Mozartian gift of simplicity and
lightness of touch (Ibragimova’s pure, sweet tone selectively warmed by
vibrato) to the mature sonatas that frame each of the two discs. It was
Mozart, with his genius for operatic-style dialogues, who first gave
violin and keyboard equal billing in his accompanied sonatas; and as in
their Beethoven sonata cycle (Wigmore Hall Live), Tiberghien and Ibragimova form a close, creative partnership, abetted by a perfect
recorded balance (in most recordings I know the violin tends to
dominate). ‘Every phrase tingles,’ I jotted down frivolously as I
listened to the opening Allegro of the G major Sonata, K301, truly con
spirito, as Mozart asks, and combining a subtle flexibility with an
impish glee in the buffo repartee.
Tiberghien and Ibragimova take
the opening Allegro of the E minor Sonata, K304, quite broadly,
emphasising elegiac resignation over passionate agitation. But their
concentrated intensity is compelling both here and in the withdrawn—yet
never wilting—minuet. Especially memorable are Ibragimova’s chaste
thread of tone in the dreamlike E major Trio, and Tiberghien’s
questioning hesitancy when the plaintive Minuet theme returns, an octave
lower, after the Trio.
In the G major Sonata, K379, rapidly
composed for a Viennese concert mounted by Archbishop Colloredo just
before Mozart jumped ship, Tiberghien and Ibragimova are aptly spacious
in the rhapsodic introductory Adagio (how eloquently Tiberghien makes
the keyboard sing here), and balance grace and fire in the tense G minor
Allegro. In the variation finale their basic tempo sounds implausibly
jaunty for Mozart’s prescribed Andantino cantabile, though objections
fade with Tiberghien’s exquisite voicing of the contrapuntal strands in
the first variation. I enjoyed the latest of the sonatas, K481,
unreservedly, whether in the players’ exuberant give-and-take in the
outer movements or their rapt, innig Adagio, where Ibragimova sustains
and shades her dulcet lines like a thoroughbred lyric soprano. Having
begun this review in grudging mode, I’ll end in the hope that these
delightful, inventive performances presage a complete series of Mozart’s
mature violin sonatas, with or without a smattering of childhood works. (Gramophone)