PROKOFIEV: March, op. 12/1 (arr. Heifetz). Sonata No. 1 in f for violin and piano, op. 80. Romeo and Juliet: "Masks." 5 Melodies, op. 35. The Love of Three Oranges: March (arr. Heifetz). Sonata No. 2 in D for violin and piano, op. 94.
Gil Shaham (violin), Orli Shaham (piano).
Canary Classics CC02 (F) (DDD) TT: 72:45
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Beyond wonderful. We have here all the music Prokofiev wrote for violin and piano, plus a few lollipops transcribed by Jascha Heifetz. About the only original fiddle chamber work missing is the sonata for two violins, a major score which the liner notes try to dismiss as "not popular," an excuse for not including it. If they had said that the piece wouldn't have fit on the disc or that Shaham decided not to overdub, I suspect it would have been more honest.

The three big works on the program are the two violin sonatas and the 5 Melodies. The Melodies, although brief, stand among the most lyrical music of the twentieth century, and it should surprise nobody that they began life as vocalises. Prokofiev, after the Paris success of his first violin concerto, decided to reward the violinist with another piece and reworked the score. The resemblance of the first of the melodies to Gershwin's "I've Got a Crush on You" has always struck me as an instance of two great minds thinking along similar lines. Wistful, ardent, good-humored, and yearning by turns, these gems show that song was always an important part of Prokofiev's music, even during his "barbaric" period and well before his highly-publicized return to the Soviet Union.

In the Forties, Prokofiev composed his flute sonata. He had begun a violin sonata in the late Thirties for David Oistrakh, but the press of other commitments (and, unusually for him, he was stuck) delayed its completion. Oistrakh lost patience waiting and at the same time recognized that the flute sonata could be worked into something for violin. With Oistrakh's help and reminiscent of Baroque practice, Prokofiev arranged the flute sonata for violin and piano as the "second" violin sonata. So the second sonata was written before the first. As such, it has become way more entrenched in the repertory than its flute cousin, as a quick check of ArkivMusic will tell you, probably because there are more star violinists than flutists. Luckily, Prokofiev got two masterpieces out of one score. I prefer its violin incarnation. I've heard top-flight flutists in the sonata -- Rampal, Galway, Pahud -- and they don't really generate the same energy as a mediocre violinist, let alone a great one.

The first movement begins with Prokofiev in his pastoral, near-Peter and the Wolf, vein, with vertiginous shifts into the depths of the Fifth Symphony, written around the same time. The second movement, a fleet scherzo with a simple and affecting trio, also resembles the corresponding movement in the symphony. The usual word for this vein of Prokofiev is "sardonic," but that doesn't begin to describe scherzo's real beauty and its complicated emotional stance. Parts of it approach the savagery of Shostakovich. Others create an unearthly calm. The slow movement is a night song in three-part form. The first section recalls the balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet, while the middle seems slightly blues-y. The third section combines the two ideas. The finale, "allegro con brio," has an idiosyncratic structure, somewhat related to rondo, and once again, we find ourselves in the sound-world of Peter and the Wolf.

The second sonata all by itself would have constituted one of the great violin works in the repertory, but the first sonata, when it finally came, pushed it a bit into the shade, artistically speaking. The second sonata, despite its beauty, seems a bit cool. Except for telling places here and there, it tends to keep the listener on its surface. On the other hand, the first sonata, touched by World War II, has the darkness associated with the piano sonatas 6 through 8 -- the so-called "war sonatas" -- as well as with the sixth symphony. We approach the bleak landscapes of Shostakovich. Indeed, one can argue that the only Modern violin sonata that equals its tragic weight is Shostakovich's own late entry.

The composer plunges us into a tough-minded gloom with the sonata's opening measures. One falls into a vision of wasteland, with bare octaves in the piano and a violin part void of ornament -- all at stifled dynamic. The first movement ends on a quietly plucked fourth double stop from the violin. The second movement, a heavy dance, begins with an evocation of stamping feet. For the same sheer uneasiness amid the energy, you'd have to go to some of Mahler's blacker Ländler. The slow movement begins with a promise of hope, a trickle of notes as in the opening to Smetana's Moldau, but this turns into a heartbreaking lament. The finale shoots out of the gate with the manic energy of the ending of the Piano Sonata No. 7, though minus the obsessive repetition. Toward the end, however, we return to the sonata's beginning. The empty winds skitter over the desert.

The piano writing in the Heifetz transcriptions impressed me the most. After all, you would expect the violin part to be well done, but who knew that Heifetz understood the piano well enough to produce such thoroughly convincing (and Prokofiev-like) keyboard parts?

Shaham plays all of these things as well as they can be played. Above all, he conveys Prokofiev's emotional deeps. Not even Oistrakh surpasses him. He is, foremost, a lyrical player, but he can add the weight when he needs to. He doesn't have to scale down in order to roar. This serves him particularly well in the 5 Melodies. However, his sonatas are the best performances I've heard. Some violinists are so caught up in the surface of these works that they misrepresent the scores as superficial. Shaham shows you the beating heart of these things. His sister not only matches him, but takes full advantage of her turn in the spotlight. These performance owe as much to her as to him.

A must for Prokofiev fans.

S.G.S. (April 2008)