{"product_id":"complete-cello-sonatas-3","title":"COMPLETE CELLO SONATAS","description":"For British listeners, the name of Reinecke is likely to evoke                     Stanford’s recollection - after an uninspiring period                     of study with him - that “of all the dry musicians I have                     ever known, he was the most desiccated”. Scandinavians                     will remember that Grieg thought no better of the man and that                     for Svendsen, “not only is he envious and bloodless …                     he is also in the highest degree \u003ci\u003evillainous\u003c\/i\u003e”. Yet                     many musicians sought him out during his long reign at the Leipzig                     Gewandhaus (1860-1895), including Sullivan, Bruch, Delius and                     the three just mentioned, while Elgar travelled to Leipzig in                     1882 to hear him conduct. \u003cbr\u003e                      \u003cbr\u003e                    If this all suggests a plodding academic, the “Undine”                     Sonata for flute and piano, the one work by Reinecke that remains                     at least on the fringe of the repertoire, is neither academic                     nor lacking in fantasy. A disc containing the First Symphony,                     the Violin Concerto and some smaller pieces suggested to me                     that further examination of Reinecke would be never less than                     pleasant, if hardly thrilling. Maybe thrilling would be too                     strong a word for these cello sonatas too, but they do suggest                     he was more inspired in chamber music than in larger orchestral                     pieces. \u003cbr\u003e                      \u003cbr\u003e                      In some ways the first sonata is the most attractive of all.                     Its ballad-like opening theme immediately catches the attention                     and the second theme is not only well contrasted, it is introduced                     in a very remote tonality indeed. What is striking about this                     movement is the mastery with which it combines free-flowing,                     rhapsodic feeling with tight formal control. Though Reinecke                     is said to have looked back to Mendelssohn and Schumann for                     his models, and certainly rejected Liszt and Wagner, his music                     combines romantic spirit with an intuitive sense of form. Here,                     at least, he was able to make his own personal fusion of classical                     ideals and romantic freedom. The second movement also contains                     a number of quite contrasting ideas and the finale has much                     surging passion. \u003cbr\u003e                      \u003cbr\u003e                    The claims of the second sonata are not to be underestimated,                     either. After a short but brooding introduction the first movement                     leads off with a pithy, expressive idea that revolved in my                     head for some days afterwards. Again, Reinecke’s formal                     control is tight even while the effect is of free rhapsody.                     The themes tend not to appear and reappear in the expected places                     and tonalities, and are inclined to undergo transformations                     just where an exact recapitulation might seem in sight. The                     second movement is marked “Quasi fantasia” and has                     much soaring romantic melody. The finale starts with a catchy                     tune but is inclined to chase its own tail a bit too much for                     its own good. This, admittedly, is a common failing among 19\u003csup\u003eth\u003c\/sup\u003e                     century finales when not written by Brahms. \u003cbr\u003e                      \u003cbr\u003e                    Altogether, it may be said that, if Reinecke did not revolutionize                     sonata forms, he nevertheless evolved an intuitively inventive                     way of reinterpreting received formal wisdom. The interesting                     thing is that exactly the same thing could be said about his                     grudging pupil Stanford’s chamber music, even down to                     a tendency to write finales that chase their own tail. One is                     bound to wonder if Reinecke’s music did not have a greater                     influence on Stanford than he later cared to admit, having been                     so disappointed by the man himself. Also common to both composers                     is a complete equality between the two partners, with plenty                     of challenging material for both players and a continual melodic                     interplay that must make Reinecke’s chamber music rewarding                     to perform. Ultimately, I suppose this music inhabits smiling                     valleys and pleasant domestic surroundings rather than soar                     above the mountain peaks, but we can surely find a place for                     music that does this so attractively. \u003cbr\u003e                        \u003cbr\u003e                    The third sonata arouses more ambivalent reactions. Dedicated                     “to the shade of Brahms”, who had just died, its                     formal mastery will not be questioned. Furthermore, while in                     one sense it occupies harmonic ground solidly rooted in Schumann,                     its restless modulations look ahead to the world of Reger. It                     is a bitter, even vehement work by a composer whose art was                     by then left high and dry by musical progress. The only problem                     is that Reinecke’s easy flow of melodic inspiration seems                     to have dried up. The themes are clear-cut and functional, but                     neither the composer’s masterly development of them, nor                     these performers’ imagination and conviction, can hide                     the fact that the cupboard is a little bare. Only the second                     theme of the finale recalls the warmth of earlier years. Nevertheless,                     as often with late works by composers clinging to the style                     of their youth in the teeth of what they perceive as ugly modernism,                     the sense of isolation and disillusionment can be moving in                     themselves. Here, too, the case of Stanford is an obvious parallel.                     \u003cbr\u003e                      \u003cbr\u003e                    Manuel Fischer-Dieskau, just in case you’ve been wondering,                     is the great baritone’s son. It would seem that interventionism,                     as an interpretative creed, runs in the family. But, like his                     father at his best, MF-D knows how to intervene in a way that                     brings the music to life, and he extracts the maximum range                     of expression from these scores. The Canadian pianist Connie                     Shih has an easy technical command and a well-rounded tone in                     the heavier moments. She and the cellist seem in full agreement                     over how to play this music. They leave me wondering why the                     first two sonatas, at least, never made it into the not very                     large repertoire of romantic cello sonatas. \u003cbr\u003e                      \u003cbr\u003e                    Cellists reading these words may be wondering where they can                     get the scores. They will be delighted to find that the IMSLP-Petrucci                     Library, a great Internet resource, apparently offers all three                     for free download. They will be a bit less delighted when they                     find that the file of no.1 is missing pages 4-15, jumping from                     the first page of the first movement to the last page of the                     second, so you get only the finale complete. Also, there’s                     not a cello part, instead there’s an alternative violin                     part. The second sonata is complete but the piano part of no.3                     lacks the last page, or maybe the last two. In compensation                     you get pages 10 and 11 twice. I used to think that people who                     do things for love not money do them properly, but on this showing                     even some who work for love are as slap-happy as any half-hearted                     employee anxious for the next coffee break. Granted, one shouldn’t                     look a gift-horse in the mouth, but we may reasonably check                     that it has all four legs. \u003cbr\u003e                        \u003cbr\u003e                    None of this little grumble, obviously, affects the value of                     this finely recorded and excellently annotated disc of three                     cello sonatas well worth investigating. The name of Reinecke                     is beginning to come alive for me. \u003cbr\u003e                      \u003cbr\u003e                    -- Christopher Howell, MusicWeb International","brand":"MDG","offers":[{"title":"CD","offer_id":49608058208536,"sku":"760623166124","price":23.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0687\/4346\/3192\/files\/1899725.jpg?v=1777758000","url":"https:\/\/hbdirect.com\/products\/complete-cello-sonatas-3","provider":"HBDirect","version":"1.0","type":"link"}