Talking Heads: Steven Isserlis

The cellist talks to The cellist talks to Ben Hogwood about his Wigmore Hall residency, celebrating the music of Fauré, and his new Boccherini album Music of the Angels.

For cellist Steven Isserlis, November 2024 is all about two composers. From the first day of the month he is taking up residence at London’s Wigmore Hall for a five-day exploration of the late chamber music of Gabriel Fauré, who died on 4 November 1924. He has given a valuable insight into his thoughts on the composer in an article just published for the Guardian newspaper, but was generous to spend some time answering specific questions about Fauré’s late music for Arcana.


Arcana: The Wigmore Hall concerts put Fauré (above) in context with his contemporaries
– how did you plan them? It’s especially good to see the music of Nadia
Boulanger, Saint-Saëns and Koechlin included.

Steven: Well, first came the idea of doing the complete (major) chamber music of Fauré for the centenary; then everything else had to be worked out around that. It took some time for the programmes to fall into place – and then I was amazed that the Wigmore said yes to all five of them!

How does Fauré’s writing for the cello develop through his works?

I don’t think of his cello writing as such developing – it’s more the musical content. His first work for cello was the Élégie, which is of course wonderful; but if you compare it to the most similar subsequent piece of his, the slow movement of the second sonata, you see how much more profound his music has become. Which is not to put down the Élégie – any more than saying that Beethoven’s last piano sonata in C minor, op 111, is on a higher level than the Pathétique sonata op 13, also in C minor, is a criticism of the Pathétique.

What are the challenges and ‘do nots’ of performing his music in an ensemble such as a piano quartet or quintet?

We just have to agree on our approach – but we do! I call our team – Joshua Bell, Irène Duval, Blythe Teh Engstroem, myself, Jeremy Denk, Connie Shih – Team Fauré. We’re all in love with his music!

Fauré’s late period has some similarities with that of Brahms. Would you say there is anything in common between their approach, late in life?

I suppose, in that there is a ‘new simplicity’; but I think there’s much more in common between late Fauré and late Beethoven. And not just because both men were profoundly deaf!

There is something very special about Fauré’s melodic writing, and the chromatic harmonies he uses. It must be a joy to play!

It is! So long as one understands the chromatic harmonies – one has to be absolutely sensitive to each change of tonal colour.

Would you say Fauré is a composer where repeated listening brings ever
greater rewards?

Well – yes, of course; but I’d say that of any great composer! But perhaps with Fauré’s late works in particular, familiarity with the style is especially helpful.


The other composer occupying Steven’s uppermost thoughts in the next month is Luigi Boccherini, with Hyperion releasing Music of the Angels, a generous anthology of the composer’s works for cello with members of the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment and harpsichordist Maggie Cole. The album explores the very different forms of Cello Concerto, Cello Sonata and String Quintet – where the composer adds an extra cello to the traditional string quartet line-up. Boccherini is a lesser-known light from the 18th century, and his cause has been close to Steven’s heart right through his recording career.

It’s great to see your Boccherini album. Was it most important for you to present the different types of work – concerto, quintet, sonata – in context?

Thank you! Again, the programme just worked out that way; but yes, I was happy to show different facets of Boccherini’s unique world.

You’ve been playing and recording the music of Boccherini for a good while – what was it that first attracted you to his music?

Well, my teacher Jane Cowan was a great Boccherini fan, which I’m sure influenced me. (She was also a great Fauré fan!) But I’ve always loved his elegance, the otherworldly beauty of his music, his gentle, kind musical soul.

At a guess, I think it might have been the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment’s first exposure to Boccherini. Did they enjoy it as much as you?

I think they MIGHT have done some of the symphonies; but I’m not sure. They were certainly lovely to work with – committed, enthusiastic and supportive.

You talk in your notes about the virtuosity Boccherini requires from his soloist – he must have been quite a player. Is it quite intimidating using such a high register of the cello to start with?

Yes! He’s among the most demanding composers for cello, because there’s nowhere one can hide. One can’t just add mounds of vibrato to mask the intonation, for instance. And one has to be able to shape the delicate curves of the music in a way that is naturally graceful; a challenge indeed.

Would you say his music is an ideal ‘next step’ for lovers of Haydn and Mozart?

I think that he’s very different from either Mozart or Haydn – roughly contemporaneous, yes, but another personality entirely. In a way, I think he’s more analogous to Domenico Scarlatti – not because they’re that similar, but because they were both Italians who spent much of their lives in Spain where, relatively cut off from the centre of European musical life, they created their entirely individual compositional worlds.

How does Boccherini’s cello writing contrast with that of Haydn?

Very different! Both can make the cello sing, true; but Haydn uses virtuosity for purposes of excitement, whereas Boccherini uses it much more subtly – usually for lightness and delicacy, frequently evoking birdsong.

With your Boccherini album set for release, are you inclined to record the Fauré trio, quartets and quintets?

Actually, yes; we were originally set to record straight after the festival; but we decided that that would be just too much. So nowthe plan is to record at least the late chamber works (which is the Fauré most in need of advocacy, I feel) next summer in the US. We hope…”

You can book the last remaining tickets for Steven Isserlis and friends’ Fauré residency at the Wigmore Hall website, and explore purchase options for the new Boccherini album Music of the Angels at the Hyperion website. The Wigmore Hall are streaming the Fauré concerts live from their YouTube site

Published post no.2,344 – Sunday 27 October 2024

In concert – Quatuor Danel: Shostakovich & Weinberg #6 @ Wigmore Hall

Quatuor Danel [Marc Danel & Gilles Millet (violins), Vlad Bogdanas (viola), Yovan Markovitch (cello)]

Weinberg String Quartet no.9 in F# minor Op.80 (1963)
Weinberg String Quartet no.10 in A minor Op.85 (1964)
Shostakovich String Quartet no.9 in E flat major Op.117 (1964)

Wigmore Hall, London
Wednesday 16 October 2024

by Richard Whitehouse Photo (c) Marco Borggreve

Quatuor Danel reached the effective mid-point of its Shostakovich and Weinberg cycle with this programme featuring two of the latter composer’s lesser if still absorbing string quartets alongside one from the former that has come belatedly to be held among his most revealing.

Coming soon after his Fifth Symphony (arguably the finest of this cycle), the Ninth Quartet finds Weinberg at something of a stylistic crossroads with those essentials of his subsequent phase almost within reach. It opens with an Allegro which is among his most visceral in any medium – the Danel (rightly) giving full rein to a seething energy, barely held in check, then to which the Allegretto functions as a shock absorber given its intermezzo-like speculations. The ensuing Andante ventures further towards that secretive and often confessional intimacy central to its composer’s thinking henceforth, though here its introspection is mitigated by a finale which unfolds almost as a synthesis of what went before – the Danel duly mindful of a gradual momentum that does not bring resolution as evade the issue with a nonchalant shrug.

Barely a year on, the Tenth Quartet has the same four-movement and 25-minute dimensions but is otherwise a very different proposition. Here the initial movement is an Adagio whose rhetorical fervency has turned in on itself well before the end, leaving an Allegro to provide oblique continuity with its simmering intensity that never quite risks outright confrontation. If the Adagio that follows promises such, its gestures prove too brittle and short-winded to sustain a more expansive movement – the intensity soon making way for a final Allegretto that sounds intent on avoiding closure with its succession of fugitive interactions, elegantly articulated here, whose lilting gait ultimately alights on the tardiest of cadences. As with its predecessor, any bringing of the work emotionally full circle is conspicuous by its absence.

Now that a first movement has been realized and performed, it is clear what Shostakovich had intended as his Ninth Quartet would have been very different from what emerged – the trenchant while slightly foursquare manner of that earlier effort replaced by the undulating lyricism of a Moderato as methodically sets out all those salient motifs for what follows. Its equivocation was ideally conveyed here – no less than the elegiac character of its successor, then a central movement of a liveliness increasingly waylaid by questioning and self-doubt.

From here, a second Adagio veers between inward musing and explosive pizzicato outbursts as provoked impassioned responses. The emotional ante duly upped, the final Allegro surges forth with new-found energy and purpose – taking in a truculent, folk-tinged episode before breaking off for a return to those pizzicato exchanges. Performances of this work often lose focus at this juncture, but the Danel brooked no compromise as the movement fairly hurtled to a close of manic defiance in what was a notable instance of music ‘playing’ its musicians.

Quite a performance with which to end this latest instalment of the Danel’s dual odyssey but, as has become usual, an encore was forthcoming: the Polka from the ballet The Golden Age affording a sardonic postlude with the insouciance of an earlier, not necessarily ‘golden’ age.

You can hear the music from the concert below, in recordings made by Quatuor Danel -including their most recent cycle of the Shostakovich quartets on Accentus:

For more information on the next concert in the series, visit the Wigmore Hall website. You can click on the names for more on composer Mieczysław Weinberg and Quatuor Danel themselves.

Published post no.2,236 – Saturday 19 October 2024

In Concert – Alina Ibragimova & Cédric Tiberghien @ Wigmore Hall: Janáček, Enescu, Barry & Beethoven

Alina Ibragimova (violin), Cédric Tiberghien (piano)

Janáček Violin Sonata in G sharp minor JW VII/7 (1913-15, rev. 1916-22)
Enescu Violin Sonata no.3 in A minor Op.25 ‘Dans le caractère populaire roumain’ (1926)
Barry Triorchic Blues (1990, rev. 1992)
Beethoven Violin Sonata no.9 in A major Op.47 ‘Kreutzer’ (1802-03)

Wigmore Hall, London
Saturday 28 September 2024

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

The duo of Alina Ibragimova and Cédric Tiberghien has offered some memorable recitals at Wigmore Hall during the past few seasons, with this evening’s typically diverse programme ranging over almost two centuries of compositions for the combination of violin and piano.

A first half of complementary opposites began with the Violin Sonata by Janáček. Ensuring cohesion across its four highly contrasted movements is no easy task, but the present artists succeeded admirably in this respect. Thus, the opening Con moto had an edgy ambivalence which was allayed in the Ballada – its relative repose and expressive warmth infused with a nostalgia as likely reflects the composer’s youth (and may indeed derive from one of those long-lost sonatas written while studying in Leipzig and Vienna 35 years earlier). Despite its marking, the Allegretto is a tensile scherzo whose frequently combative interplay was much in evidence here; the final Adagio then pivoting between stark plangency and a heightened eloquence which subsided into an ending whose muted regret was unmistakably to the fore.

Whatever the conceptual or aesthetic gulf between them, Enescu’s Third Sonata followed on with some inevitability. This was inspired by and recreates without quoting traditional music, as its subtitle duly indicates, and Ibragimova was alive to the musing inwardness of an initial Moderato whose ‘malinconico’ consistently undercuts any formal or expressive resolution up to a close where the songful and dance-like themes disperse into silence. The highlight was a central Andante of sustained though unforced intensity, its improvisatory aspect a stern test of coordination violinist and pianist met head-on. Almost as compelling, the final Allegro lacked a degree of inevitability in its unfolding – Tiberghien’s superbly articulated pianism less than implacable at the close, for all that Ibragimova conveyed its ominous ecstasy in full measure.

Beginning life as a test-piece for solo piano and adapted for numerous media, Triorchic Blues is Gerald Barry at his most uninhibited and would have made an ideal encore in this context – but its ever more scintillating opposition of instruments was not out of place after the interval.

This second half ended with the grandest of Beethoven’s violin sonatas, its ‘Kreutzer’ subtitle misleading yet indicative of this music’s inherent virtuosity. Ibragimova and Tiberghien made an impressive cycle of these works for the Wigmore’s own label, so it was surprising to find them at slightly below their best here. Not in the central Andante con variazioni, its judicious fusion of slow movement and scherzo rendered with unfailing poise and an acute sense of the profundity drawn out of so unassuming a theme. Yet, after its suitably arresting introduction, the first movement lacked drama – the duo playing down its rhetoric not least in a less than impulsive coda. The relentless tarantella-rhythm that underpins the finale felt similarly reined in with, again, too little of an emotional frisson as this music vividly reinforces the home-key.

What was never in doubt was their quality of playing individually and collectively, making one anticipate future recitals by these artists which will hopefully find them exploring more of that extraordinary corpus of music for violin and piano of the early and mid-20th century.

For more on the Autumn season visit the Wigmore Hall website. For more on the artists, click on the names Alina Ibragimova (violin), Cédric Tiberghien (piano), and click here for more on composer Gerald Barry

Published post no.2,316 – Sunday 22 September 2024

In Concert – Leila Josefowicz & John Novacek @ Wigmore Hall: Debussy, Szymanowski, Bray & Stravinsky

Leila Josefowicz (violin, above), John Novacek (piano, below)

Debussy Violin Sonata in G minor L140 (1916-17)
Szymanowski 3 Myths Op.30 (1915)
Bray Mriya (2023) [Wigmore Hall commission: World premiere]
Stravinsky Divertimento from Le Baiser de la fée (1928, arr. 1934, rev. 1949)

Wigmore Hall, London
Saturday 21 September 2024

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse

Long among the more adventurous violinists from her generation, this latest Wigmore recital found Leila Josefowicz focussing on music traversing the boundary between Impressionism and neo-Classicism, together with a recent piece such as conveyed a meaningful relevance.

It might not be such a good idea to launch a recital with Debussy’s Violin Sonata, as this last and conceptually most fluid of its composer’s late chamber works is essentially a culmination rather than starting-point. Having rather harried its opening Allegro, Josefowicz brought keen imagination to its Intermède which none the less lacked that fantasy and lightness intended. Most convincing was its finale, the headlong succession of ideas deftly propelled to a payoff not merely decisive but of all-round conclusiveness – whatever Debussy may have intended.

Whereas this piece was admired but initially found relatively few exponents, Szymanowski’s Myths was early recognized as a milestone in its medium and has latterly regained that initial eminence. Josefowicz duly recognized these innovative qualities with an impulsive yet never wayward take on La fontaine d’Arethuse, its capriciousness finding an ideal complement in the simmering emotion and alluring poise of Narcisse – self-aware rather self-regarding as to expression – or increasingly recalcitrant playfulness of Dryades et Pan with its teasingly delayed – even almost avoided – close. Just occasionally, Josefowicz’s snatching at a rhythmic gesture denied the music its high-flown eloquence but, overall, this proved a perceptive and involving account where her interaction with John Novacek’s attentive pianism was absolute.

Those who hear the Szymanowski as a ‘sonata malgré-lui’ might feel likewise about Mriya by Charlotte Bray, which tonight had its first hearing. Its Ukrainian title variously implying ‘dream, vision, ambition and vow’, this four-movement work charted a course of terror but also resolve. The first of these infused its disparate while distinctive ideas with a momentum as merged directly into the feline capering of its successor; after which, a slower movement offered a measure of sustained if hardly serene calm, before the finale once again marshalled its disjunct gestures towards a culmination which was pointedly withheld. A symbol, perhaps, of the Ukrainian people’s struggle as is far from reaching closure let alone victory? Whatever the case, this is absorbing and deeply felt music that received a suitably committed response.

From here to Stravinsky’s Divertimento from The Fairy’s Kiss was some conceptual leap. One of several such adaptations its composer made during its career as a duo-recitalist with Samuel Dushkin, this takes in most of the ballet’s initial two-thirds – the Sinfonia by turns pensive and restive, while the rumbustious Danses suisses was irresistibly despatched. The Scherzo exuded a capering charm and the Pas de Deux moved effortlessly from its soulful Adagio, via nimble Variation, to an initially dextrous then increasingly uproarious Coda.

This recital ended in a wholly different aesthetic world from which it began, but Josefowicz’s acuity could not be gainsaid. ‘Uproarious’ was also the watchword of the encore – Novacek’s Intoxication Rag, arranged by Itzhak Perlman no less and rendered with appropriate abandon.

For more on the Autumn season visit the Wigmore Hall website – and for more on the artists, click on the names Leila Josefowicz and John Novacek

Published post no.2,309 – Sunday 22 September 2024

Wigmore Hall news – A season-long celebration of Fauré begins this September

Véronique Gens (soprano), Fleur Barron (mezzo-soprano), Laurence Kilsby (tenor), Stéphane Degout (baritone), Susan Manoff (piano), Julius Drake (piano) – all performing on Friday 13 September 2024 at the Wigmore Hall

The Gabriel Fauré Centenary Celebrations open with a song gala involving some of Fauré’s finest contemporary interpreters, who explore the composer’s output at various stages, and all of whom share in the performance of his cycle La bonne chanson.

The concert will take place on Friday 13 Sep 2024, 7.30pm (click here for tickets) – and marks the start of a celebration which will cover the French composer’s celebrated chamber music.

You can read about the celebrations at the Wigmore Hall website, where you will find details of the five-day festival planned and curated by Steven Isserlis and friends, running from Friday 1 November to Tuesday 5 November. The programme will include all of Fauré’s chamber music, put in context of his friends and contemporaries. It will also give us the rare opportunity to hear both of the piano trios by his good friend Saint-Saëns.

Published post no.2,288 – Thursday 29 August 2024