Not Even A Twist Or Turn

Boston Chamber Music Society

performs Bartok, Brahms and Beethoven

at Sanders Theatre

From the moment that an administrative apparatchik of the Boston Chamber Music Society emerged on stage to push subscriptions on the already over-subscribed audience, it was clear that Saturday night's concert at Sanders Theatre was more an "event" than a chamber music concert. This atmosphere was only reinforced by the nature of the programming. The violinist Stephanie Chase was slated to play in each work, first Bartok's First Sonata for Violin and Piano, then the Brahms Horn Trio, and finally the Beethoven Septet. While programming for a single performer might be acceptable even in a chamber music concert, the flagrant insertion of Bartok's Sonata into a menu of otherwise standard (and somewhat related) fare, seemed justified only by the appeal of alliteration. Before she played, it would have been conceivable that her specialty was Bartok, and the deviation in programming could be justified by the quality of the performance.

Bartok's First Violin Sonata, while heavily influenced by the atonality of Schoenberg, abounds with injunctions of "espressivo" and "appasionato". A listener not aware of this might have thought from Chase's performance that Bartok, desiring some special effect, had ordered the violinist to play dispassionately, and vibrato only selectively if at all. While the first movement is supposed to be tense in character, the rigidity manifest in Chase did not seem quite appropriate. Her sound was frequently forced, and what at first seemed like a special effect--the fact that her vibrato began only after half of each note was done--carried through the entire performance. Passages occasionally surfaced in which she was more relaxed and lyrical, but in general, these would relapse all too soon into ascetic dryness.

Even her posture conveyed an objective solidity antithetical to the piece. While some performers admittedly twist and turn too much, Chase's tree-like alternative was no more appealing; one is driven to wonder whether she was ever motile before her Daphne-like transformation.

Though the lyrical opening of the second movement was plagued problems similar to those of the first movement, the pianist, Mihae Lee, heretofore invisible in following Chase, effectively initiated and propelled the exchange between violin and piano as the movement climaxes; this instance of rhythmic alternation, the piano asserting one chord and the violin rebutting with another, was

Photo Courtesy BCSM one of the few displays of ecstatic ensemblewithin the context of the Bartok. The thirdmovement, marked "Allegro" and abounding withvehement and syncopated rhythms, concealed for themost part Chase's difficulties; while hertechnique was not impeccable, it certainly farsurpassed her vibrato. In this section, though theperformers were always "with" each other, one didnot receive the impression of collaboration whichhad appeared briefly in the second movement andwhich graces the best chamber music performances.On the whole, Chase's rendition of the Sonata wascompetent but uninspired; she did not seem toderive any personal significance from the work orendow it with any of her own life story. Lee, onthe other hand, gave some indication that shecould have performed more dynamically, but was toopreoccupied with following the violin part to doso.

After the physical and tonal woodenness of theBartok Sonata, the vibrancy of the horn soloheralding the beginning of the Brahms Horn Trio,like a good antacid, would have spelled relief.Brahms composed this work for the "natural horn"prevalent in an age just before his own. The"natural horn" appealed to him since one must muteit with one's hand in order to play certain notes,and he desired that the entire trio maintain acorrespondingly muted timber. However, even whenmuted, the passion of Brahms' compositions cannever be suppressed. The trio which performed inSanders, Robert Rauch on horn and Mihae Lee onpiano, with, of course, Stephanie Chase on violin,managed the impossible. The first movement, markedAndante and filled with yearning two-note slursand melodies, was taken so slowly that it lackedall coherence; as if this were not enough, Rauchactually ritarded at the end of all his solos.Even the climax was brutally vertical, each notepounded into the stage with no forward motionwhatsoever. Additionally, although the players hadobviously coordinated their phrasing beforehand,each one merely read through his or her own part,seemingly disregarding the other musicians. Thesecond movement, a Scherzo, was more intriguing,as each repetition of a given part acquired a newcharacter, slightly more gentle, or much moreaggressive. The opening piano chords of thefollowing movement, an exquisitely personal andpainful document of sorrow, did much to establishthe intimacy of the setting and the spectralnature of the sound. But Chase's vibrato uponentering destroyed the perfection of the moment,and the syncopations o the climax were far frommoving. In the Finale, though still not entirelycommitted, the performers paid back some of theemotional deficit which had accured at theirexpense during other sections of the piece; Rauchfinally established an expressive voice andChase's flaws were not entirely apparent.

Perhaps the root of Chase's vibrato "problem"and the lack of fluidity characterizing herphrases lies in her experience as aperiod-instrument performer; playing frequently inarchaized style without vibrato and with notesseparated by the constraints of the baroque bow,she had become unused to the Romantic way ofplaying. But the precision of the next piece, theBeethoven Septet, suited her, and all those whoperformed in it. With Arturo Delmoni on viola,Ronald Thomas as `cellist, Timothy Cob as bass,Thomas Hill as clarinet, Donald Bravo playingbassoon and Robert Rauch again on French horn, theintimacy of the ensemble prevented thesemiorchestral atmosphere of the piece, reinforcedby the setting of Sanders Theatre, fromoverwhelming its chamber aspects. The workconsists of the traditional four movementsFast-Slow-Minuet-Finale with two extra movements,a theme and variations and a scherzo, interposedas an extension between the third and final ones.While all of these were played with theappropriate character and balance, the fourthmovement, featuring solos on all of theinstruments, was particularly well performed; theclarinetist especially established his exquisitetone and phrasing and at several points duringsustained notes seem to stop time for hisconvenience.

Though the final piece was performed much moreconvincingly than the other two, audience members,who seemed occupied more with socializing than themusic, allotted it the same three bows worth ofapplause as they had the others. Indeed, theBoston Chamber Music Society seemed to expect thatthe audience would focus on the "event" and thesoloist, and not the intricacies of ensemble andinterpretation