It’s good to have these outstanding, thought-provoking recordings of the violin sonatas available at mid price in DG’s Beethoven Edition. The extra items are most welcome, too; strongly characterful performances of the Variations and the Rondo, plus a real (if insubstantial) rarity in the otherwise unavailable German Dances.
The sonatas were recorded, in different venues, over a period of ten years, but the recording quality is uniformly excellent. Apparent throughout, too, is the exploratory feel of the performances. Both Argerich and Kremer are constantly on the look-out for ways to make each phrase distinctive and memorable – here a special tone colour, there a slight hesitation or hint of extra emphasis. Except for Op. 96, all the Beethoven violin sonatas could be classed as early works, and it’s the youthful exuberance of the quick music that impresses above all. Right from the first bars of Op. 12 No. 1 there’s a feeling of excitement in the vivid way the music is phrased and characterized, yet a glance at the score confirms that Kremer and Argerich are simply presenting, with a kind of mercurial swiftness, all the dramatic variety that Beethoven has written down. A very special instance of this comes in the Adagio variation at the end of Op. 96, where Argerich’s affecting and spontaneous-sounding melody exactly follows the composer’s detailed instructions. Argerich and Kremer are just as successful, I think, in the lighter, more witty movements. The idea of dialogue is central to these sonatas, and the exchanges between the instruments in the delicate middle movement of Op. 23 have here an irresistible humour and sense of fun. And when passionate intensity is required, in the first movements of Op. 23, Op. 30 No. 2, and, above all, in the Kreutzer Sonata, they produce a splendid driving momentum.
I do get the impression, though, that it’s Argerich who provides the main creative impulse. Her combination of interpretative imagination and exceptional technical finesse allows her to encompass all aspects of Beethoven’s writing. There are places, the minore variation in Op. 47 for instance, where I’d prefer the calmer, less showy pianistic mastery of Ashkenazy (with Perlman, Decca, 1/89), but Argerich continually delights and convinces with the delicacy of her passagework, the wonderful balance of her chordal playing and the sheer bravura of the ‘big’ passages. Kremer is able, for the most part, to respond and match this brilliant playing – certainly he’s equally impressive whenever Beethoven demands virtuosity. But I find myself wishing he could play the many quiet, tuneful passages with more natural warmth of expression, in particular that he would pay more attention to producing a true legato line. If you compare Kremer’s playing of the melody of Op. 30 No. 1’s Adagio with Zukerman’s marvellously sweet-toned account (RCA, 7/92) or Perlman’s finely shaped version (Decca, 1/89), you’ll see what I mean. Another disturbing feature is the fierceness with which Kremer attacks most of the frequent sforzandos. Of course Beethoven should sometimes sound ferocious, and strong off-beat accents are an essential part of his style, but Perlman and Zukerman both show how these accents can be produced in many different ways that are appropriate to the context, and not merely forceful.
However, Kremer does seem more and more at home as the music approaches the romantic era. His playing of the Kreutzer Sonata has an extraordinary verve and energy, and the last Sonata is perhaps the best of all. Both he and Argerich respond here to the need for the closest, most responsive partnership. The first movement, in particular, has a magical, dreamlike intensity, with each player finding just the right sound to balance the other, projecting the different musical characters with luminous clarity.'