But with a twist. On Tuesday evening I heard Wolfgang Panhofer, cello, and Alfred Melichar, accordion, in a program of Vivaldi, Gubaidulina, Schubert, Verdi, Bischof, Kohn, and Piazzolla. Eclectic, to say the least. Cello and accordion? It was not quite as out of place as you might think. The accordion acted as an accompanying partner, much as a piano or an organ might.
Antonio Vivaldi (1678–1741) – Sonata in E Minor, RV 40; Largo, Allegro,
Largo, Allegro
Sofia Gubaidulina (1931–) – In Croce
Franz Schubert (1797–1828) –
Die schöne Müllerin, D. 795; Die Liebe Farbe, Trockne Blumen, Der Müller und
der Bach
Winterreise, D. 911; Irrlicht, Der stürmische Morgen, Der Leiermann
Die Forelle, D. 550
Giuseppe Verdi (1813–1902) – Messa da Requiem; Ingemisco
Rainer Bischof (1947–) – Cadenza (World Premiere)
Karl Kohn (1926–) – Canzonetta for accordion (US Premiere)
Astor Piazzolla (1921–1922) – Le Grand Tango
In the Vivaldi, I noticed a very full tone from the cello with a lighter, almost piano—or, more to the point, hurdy-gurdy—accompaniment. The second Largo movement had lyrical phrases (more so than the first Largo) and the final movement was Vivaldi at his jauntiest.
Ms. Gubaidulina’s very modern work reminded me more of cello and organ, with the accordion playing very close dissonant notes, half-step and whole-step juxtapositions, while the cello played mostly short phrases within a very small range with a swooping gesture to end the phrases. A frantic section followed where both instruments essentially shrieked, then the cellist strummed a single string and bounced the bow off of the strings over the equivalent of a pedal point (one sustained pitch for a long period of time) from the accordion.
Schubert’s songs were interesting to hear in this context, though I’m not familiar enough with either of the song cycles to really compare them to the original intent. It was also a little strange to hear them without all of the repeats, but without the strophic texts, it really wasn’t necessary. Of the three Winterreise songs, the first had a very effective diminuendo from the accordion at the end; the second was very brief, with a martial quality; and the third was quite melancholy.
Ingemisco finally gave me what I had been craving all along—a really singing tone from the cello and a more fully supportive sound from the accordion. Part of that was Verdi, I’m sure, but that fullness had been lacking earlier.
Cadenza requires a little bit of explanation. A cadenza is a brief solo at the end of a concerto movement that is sometimes improvised, sometimes hinted at by the composer, and sometimes truly composed. In this case, Mr. Panhofer will be playing a cello concerto by Arthur Honegger in Moscow in the near future. This cadenza (I’m not sure for which movement) was composed by Rainer Bischof for that occasion. Mr. Panhofer wisely chose to premiere the cadenza here rather than waiting for the concerto performance. It was certainly fiery and at several points he snapped the strings so hard that they thwacked against the fingerboard. I’m pretty sure that was the intent.
The Kohn Canzonetta was composed for Mr. Melichar and consisted of short phrases along with some more sustained, almost Romantic-feeling phrases and included “shakes” and “wheezes” as well as other varied accordion techniques.
Piazzolla’s tango was definitely dance-like, exploiting and exploring traditional phrases and then expanding them and expounding on them. This turned them into a very contemporary piece while not losing the tango’s historical feel and flare.
A note on the accordion—the style played was a button accordion, where there are not the usual (to me) piano-style keys.
http://tinyurl.com/owjz4r8
It seems to me that this increased the range of the right hand (melody hand) by quite a bit.
ConcertMeister
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