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If cover photos are
any indication of what is contained inside a recording, the one
for this release is a good one. Alexandre Rabinovich wears a smile
as wide as the Cheshire Cat's, and Martha Argerich is laughing as
though someone just told her an incredibly funny joke. Looking at
that photo, we almost want to laugh ourselves. That sense of warmth
and high-spirits is equally strong in these spirited recordings.
 Argerich
has always been more comfortable playing chamber or two-piano music
than as a soloist, but many of her recordings with Rabinovich have
lacked a sense of repose. Even in slow movements, there has always
been a sense that the music had to be kept moving, with little time
or inclination to smell the flowers. There is still some of that
quality in these sonatas, but less so than usual, the result being
the musical equivalent of sunlight streaming through a meadow of
high grass and wildflowers.
The Sonata in D
major, K. 448, has been a personal favorite of mine since hearing
it many years ago in the Sean Connery film The Great Train Robbery.
The music's sense of hijinks perfectly matched the general tone
of the film, and a good performance carries along a highly contagious
sense of good humor.
Argerich and Rabinovich
become caught up in the infectiousness of this piece, and then some,
playing the outer movements as such a brisk clip that it seems like
they literally can't stop themselves from running through a musical
game of tag. The metaphor is apt, because there is a childlike sense
of innocence and playfulness that runs deeply through this performance.
Though the tempi are fast, nothing is unduly rushed, and the liveliness
only adds to the general excitement.
In between these two
jeux d'infants we have a meltingly tender Andante that,
while taken at a slightly faster clip than usual, is charming in
its simple beauty and gossamer in its lightness. With a delicate
sense of give-and-take between the two players and exquisite phrasing,
this is the type of playing that flows as gently and naturally as
a conversation with a close friend - one on which you feel yourself
surreptitiously eavesdropping by listening to it, but a tête-à-tête
you never want to end.
The Andante and
Five Variations, K. 501, starts like a child who is shy around
strangers but becomes loquacious enough when the first variation
begins. Variations one through three increase in exuberance as they
progress. The fourth variation casts a shadow of minor-key sadness,
but the fifth returns to the good humor of the first three variations
in regal style, quietly recapitulating the beginning of the piece
before ending softly. Again, Argerich and Rabinovich are in fine
style, capturing the moods of each variation and turn of phrase
with nimbleness and uncanny accuracy.
The Sonata in C
major, K. 521, is played less hurriedly than the D major Sonata
but with no less charm. An opening fanfare of some seriousness gives
way in the Allegro to a vivacious scene, with a panoply of
various moods walking through like characters on stage. A generally
unassuming Andante gives way in its central episode to an
ardent duet between distraught lovers, and the recapitulation carries
some tinges of sadness from that exchange. The Allegretto,
one of Mozart's musical jokes, is achingly funny. Proceeding calmly,
or seeming to, the music tries keeping a straight face despite some
witty, tragic and madcap episodes, including a false ending of scampering
runs up and down the keyboard, only to subside into measured composure
before repeating the trick to conclude the work.
Throughout this comedy
of manners, Argerich and Rabinovich clearly relish every twist and
turn, every musical wink and nudge. They not only perform this play
before our ears, but slyly comment on it as it unfolds, keeping
us just clearly enough in-the-know to let us in on the jokes, the
intrigue and the drama at large, but not enough to spoil our good
time.
 With
the Sonata in D major, K. 381, we are back to the joyous
Mozart of K. 448, scurrying light-hearted across the keyboard in
the Allegro with only a couple of brief minor-key modulations casting
any clouds on the horizon. The Andante is another sunlit
meadow of spring flowers, while the Allegro molto is a dance
as energetic as one any country fiddler or village band would play.
While not as memorable
as K. 448, this sonata is still highly enjoyable, and Argerich and
Rabinovich make the most of it. They sail breezingly through the
Allegro, though not as fleet-fingered as in K. 448, giving
us time to savor some delicious turns of phrase and the general
delight of their music-making. They make the Adagio into
something truly special, slowing down deliciously at 3:10 and 5:55,
savoring the beauty of this movement as though it were some romantic
interlude. For the Allegro molto, they really kick up their
heels; you can easily imagine them having the time of their lives
on the dance floor while this music is playing.
This is probably one
of the most pleasurable recordings Argerich has made, with or without
Rabinovich. While you can usually expect many things from her performances,
unconditional bliss is not usually one of them. Seventy minutes
of it is downright intoxicating. For anyone who loves Mozart or
excellent piano playing, this disc is a must, and one that I would
definitely want with me if marooned on a desert island. After hearing
it, you can definitely tell why those two people on the cover look
so happy.
JONATHAN
YUNGKANS
recommends that listeners exercise caution after hearing this disc
if they drive, operate machinery or come face-to-face with a grumpy
boss. He may not know what he's missing. It's his loss.
822:
2.11.2000 ©Jonathan Yungkans
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