Guest
Sometimes things are just beautiful, you know? You can say a lot about them, but the most salient musical fact is that the first note makes you stop breathing, and when the work ends you’re not sure if you ever let that breath go. So it is with these two arrangements of Chopin’s 25.7 for Cello and Piano. Most days of the week I like Glazunov’s a little more, but they both work perfectly on their own terms, despite how different they are. Glazunov changes things up a fair bit – since the cello now takes over the LH the piano gets an entirely new LH, which neatly anticipates the dotted motif you hear in the cello at 1:07 (the first occurrence of the motif is at 0:35). The piano also gets to echo a beautiful motif in the cello (1:21), although I think the decision by Gabetta/Chamayou to leave this out at 2:59 is entirely justified – it makes the harmonic change and the subsequent pause so much more effective. Glazunov also significantly simplifies the rapid LH runs originally for the piano when the move into the cello, which gives those runs a cleaner and more forceful melodic shape. But the most magnificent change Glazunov makes is the expansion of the registral space at 3:23, as the piano’s melody leaps up and becomes fortified in octaves, while the cello is left to reign the bass. It’s such a simple but powerful effect – have two instruments occupy a similar range, and then pull them apart suddenly. Franchomme’s changes are much more modest – in fact for large parts his arrangement is essentially identical to Chopin’s original, except that the cello takes over the LH. But this too produces wonderful results – the rumbling LH scales are almost exactly preserved (except at 7:18, where Franchomme has to tread water around a low C for a bit to compress the scalar range into something manageable for the cello) and heighten tension very well. And at one point I think Franchomme clearly outdoes Glazunov – that’s in the dreamlike passage at 7:30, which is also the bit I love most in the original etude. Glazunov opts to use this passage (2:07) to have the cello gradually rise above the piano semiquaver melody; a lovely and rather playful manipulation of register. But Franchomme nails the actual feeling of the passage, to my ear. He gives the descending semiquaver line to the cello, while the piano takes the upper melody. And here, he actually does give the piano new notes deep in the bass, which add a richness almost like a pizzicato reverberation. So in the end: a more reverberant, “wide-open” arrangement with the Glazunov, and a bleaker (but no less emotionally intense) intimacy from Franchomme. The gorgeous playing here is in line with these qualities – Gabetta is consistently lyrical, with semiquaver passages that build in momentum before cresting; Weilerstein is (especially in the quiet sections) much more parlando (“spoken”), with more time for gaps, tapers, and portamenti between notes – you can almost hear the tip of the bow navigating the strings. Gabetta’s tone is warm, natural; Weilerstein is more piercing, her vibrato faster and more plaintive. 0:00 (Glazunov) – Gabetta/Chamayou 5:13 (Franchomme) – Weilerstein/Barnatan
