Smetana, Martinu, Eben: Trios (Hyperion)
Rating: * * * * *
Dohnanyi, Janacek: Violin Sonatas (Hyperion)
Rating: * * * * *
Verdict: Thoughtful collections of chamber music from Eastern Europe intrigue.
Violinist Anthony Marwood leads us into the world of Smetana on the Florestan Trio's new disc of Czech Trios just as irresistibly as he guided us through Ross Harris' new Violin Concerto at the NZSO's Made in New Zealand celebrations last month.
On CD, Marwood's emotional engagement with Smetana's opening melody gears us up for one of the most passionate of all piano trios, inspired by the composer's tragic loss of his 4-year-old daughter.
The shattering contrasts of this work register vividly with the Florestans. A storming Finale melts into nostalgic interludes - imagine someone had left a door of some faded salon ajar - at their most tantalising when Susan Tomes' rippling piano could be channelling a Chopin Nocturne, Czech-style.
The three musicians savour the contrapuntal thrust and spiky goings-on of the five miniatures that make up Martinu's 1930 Piano Trio but the most gripping performance is left till last.
Czech composer Peter Eben died just three years ago and his 1986 Piano Trio explores unexpected tactics in having strings and piano almost working in their own space and time - inspired, in a roundabout way, by Eben's own chamber music experiences, playing alongside his violinist father and cellist brother, on a wooden-framed domestic piano.
The opening drammatico movement lives up to Eben's directive and a lento which effortlessly combines serene piano chorale and sprightly Bartokian dances in the strings, reveals why the Florestans are at the very top of their field.
Hungarian composer Erno Dohnanyi (1877-1960) was four years Bartok's senior and survived him by 15, yet Hagai Shaham and Arnon Erez's glowing account of his 1921 Sonata, on their new Hyperion album, reveals a score of rich Brahmsian intent.
When Dohnanyi nods to his Slavic heritage, in the three pieces from Ruralia Hungarica, Shaham's hot-blooded performance reveals the gypsy in their collective soul.
Janacek's Violin Sonata, a much darker score reflecting the early years of World War I, registers with an intimacy benefiting from the same close microphone that betrays perhaps a little too much of Shaham's breathing in the same composer's shorter pieces.
