Wellington Town Hall
November 22 | Reviewed by Mark Dryburgh

THE VIOLINIST Julian Rachlin is a great violinist playing a great violin. His violin (on loan) was the favourite of Nicolo Paganini and worth millions of dollars. With such a violin you could expect a cautious approach but Rachlin played with unbridled passion.

The youthful performers appeared on stage with a brief announcement that the Mozart sonata would be first. This was an excellent change to the programme. Pianist Richard Hyung-Ki Joo, who is known for combining music and comedy, clearly suited playing Mozart. His playing has a clean accuracy and a lightness of character. With the piano providing comparable musical interest, the performers quickly developed communication that was full of character. Hyung-ki Joo would grin across to Rachlin and bounce along to lively sections. Compositionally, the sonata is Mozart at his most interesting. Written in deep mourning for his father’s death, the sonata has freedom of emotional expression far beyond most of his compositions. Particularly in the first movement (Molto Allegro) there is an economy in the writing that brings the listener in close to the melodic shapes. In the bright and rich tonal palette of A and E, the parts separate and join in a beautiful play of emotions. The second movement is pianistic with many plaintive shifts of mood and key. The thematic ideas expand endlessly in the development and still there is a stately balance to the Andante tempo. The move to the recapitulation carries a great release derived from distant keys.

The musical expression from the players suggests that they really identify with Mozart’s state at the time of writing. I theorize that it’s because they are the same age as Mozart was. I’ve never heard Mozart played so intimately, it warrants an explanation of some kind.

... And then the darkness of Shostakovich entered the hall ... Another highly sophisticated piece that is marked with the composer’s death. The opening of the Sonata (Op 147) is classic Shostakovich. Viola pizzicato sets up a brilliant syncopation with the piano that shapes the entire piece. Like in Bartok, there’s a sense of numerical wonder as rhythm and implied rhythm brutally propels chromatic shapes. The main twelve note theme appears like a meaningful code, a seed to the composer’s artistic pain. The Soviet system of the time, while recognising his worth, pressured Shostakovich throughout his life as their control was so pervasive. A deep uneasiness underlies an East European folk approach in the second movement which begins to stab it’s rhythm. The truth of this music is not without it’s humour. The performers relish the musical device of applying unlikely melodies to a stabbed-out mock march, while here it is heavily subverted. Certain motives relentlessly reappear like symbols of regime.

Rachlin relishes this piece with all its darkness, hunching forward in his black, red silk-lined jacket. Hyung-ki Joo plays less intensely, perhaps to balance with the quieter viola, however, there seems to be a gap between the players’ connection to the music. Rachlin’s abundance of passion is awesome. The viola has a full tone and I’m amazed throughout the concert by Rachlin's powerful presence and perfected intonation that draws out emotive features. At one point two lines appear at once on the viola and move together but with quite separate articulation, the effect is stunning.

The final Adagio movement is beautifully dark and references Beethoven’s moonlight sonata. A slow steady pulse characteristically drives the piece calmly to its conclusion, after a spirited solo the viola effectively diminuendos to nothing.

The second half of the programme begins with Poeme by Ernest Chausson; originally written for violin and orchestra and revised for violin and piano. Chausson was a French ‘impressionist’, his compositions are more brewding than those of Debussy and Ravel. Poeme is inspired by a story about magick used for facilitation of incestuous adultery. There are five sections that alternate two main themes. There is a wonderful sense of balance and refinement in the writing. Although being French-impressionistic in character, vaguely programmatic, the violin and piano are employed less sonically than by Debussy. However there are similarities such as the use of triple time melodic rhythm to create wistful phrases, the song of love that in the story casts a spell on the maiden. There are many brilliant flourishes of virtuosity for the players and striking touches of instrumentation. It really was magic as Rachlin delicately slides a whispery harmonic trill up from pitch.

The final piece by Cesar Franck suits the differing approaches of both players well. Cesar Franck, sporting fantastic chin-length side-burns was born in Gallic-speaking Northern Europe. He was a respected teacher; Chausson, one of his pupils. This Sonata in A is in four inter-related movements. The Gallic background of Franck comes through clearly in the up-beat lilting feel throughout the piece. The first movement is vaguely pastoral but with bursts of loud romantic piano. Towards the end of the second movement the violin and piano joined together in a well extended flourish. Both performers are moving freely by now and Rachlin often turns to the audience, rises and leans back as his melody peaks. The tone of his Guarnarius del Gesu violin is incredible. The piano shines beautifully in the subdued sections of the Fantasia movement.

The final movement is a grand summary of the previous material. A musical canon weaves over itself in a wonderful act of coincidence. There is an overwhelming sense of optimism to this final movement. Frequently the harmony abruptly shifts into a major key which creates momentum. What a great end to the programme! Rachlin and Hyung-li Joo really dazzle at the end of the piece. The Presto agitato tempo is agitated indeed, and they play fast as humanly possible only to ‘stop on a dime’ then launch into another fiery figure.

I thoroughly enjoyed this season finale concert. Rachlin stands in my mind as the most inspired violinist I’ve ever encountered; and what a year it’s been for chamber music!