Thursday August 27
You’d have to assume that the third member of the Benaud Trio, Amir Farid, is still locked down in Melbourne along with the rest of the city’s denizens, and that there’s no way legal that he was going to get across to Adelaide to join up with his colleagues, the Bramble brothers, for this Passport Festival recital, one of four mounted by the Melbourne Digital Concert Hall. A worthy substitution came in Adelaide-born Anna Goldsworthy who, it would appear, is home for the duration, labouring like the rest of her state under the all-protective aegis of Steven Marshall. Among her many accomplishments, Goldsworthy is pianist for Melbourne’s Seraphim Trio, so she knows her way round the repertoire, in particular the two popular works that made up Thursday night’s program: Haydn XV/25 in G Major, the Gypsy Rondo gem; and Smetana’s Op. 15 in G minor which stands among the Czech composer’s most self-revelatory creations.
This night marked the first night that any of these musicians had been enlisted into the MDCH ranks. Violinist Lachlan Bramble I’ve heard pretty much exclusively at Benaud Trio recitals, and there have been quite a lot of them as the ensemble was formed in 2005. He’s currently Associate Principal 2nd Violin with the Adelaide Symphony Orchestra. In similar fashion, I know his brother Ewen’s cello through the same source; he is also an Associate Principal at the ASO. Goldsworthy has been pretty much exclusively a chamber music personality for me; I’ve been listening to the Seraphims for 20 years. Sadly, any further experiences with both groups will probably be reduced to nil; not just because of COVID-19, which might eventually have an ending, but also because I believe that neither ensemble comes to Brisbane as a regular thing.
Anyway, off they went on their Haydn tour with excellent communality of phrasing and a finely-contoured correspondence between piano and violin in the theme statement – a delectable experience with its irregular sentence halves. You might have expected more reserve from Goldsworthy in the four bars concluding Variation 2, her colleagues overwhelmed at this point. Apart from a slight piano slip half-way through the piano-dominated final variation, the only question mark came with the slow pace chosen for the movement’s final bar which would have gained more by being kept a tempo.
Lachlan Bramble span a fine solo in bar 17 of the central Poco adagio, placed deftly into position without requiring any self-promotion. Surprisingly, given their telling collaboration in the opening Andante, Goldsworthy and Lachlan Bramble sounded uneasy in the 8-bar doubling at Letter G on the movement’s last page; still, the piano-to-pianissimo resolution of absolutely no tension at the close proved more than satisfyingly clean in delivery. Not much to report about the finale where Goldsworthy mad very few errors in a pell-mell set of pages. The group took the option of slowing down at minor key intrusions, but showed quite happy to fly past in a persuasive display of enthusiasm for these infectious pages.
Next, a switch to another kind of Bohemia and Lachlan Bramble’s violin led us into the fierce and determined score composed by Smetana on the untimely death of his favourite daughter. You can hear what you like here, although you’d be working hard to ignore the mourning strophes in both outer movements as well as the strong railing against life’s unfairness during some powerful outbursts in the opening Moderato assai. Mind you, the delivery of that opening 7-bar solo came across as craggy and expletive-packed; not just a sorrowful narrative, then, but a pugnacious one. And when the ferment rose, these players gave of their best, notably the Più animato from bar 66 to a climactic point at bar 92, and later a gripping strepitoso passage leading to bar 160.
Another fine, if brief, passage came from Ewen Bramble’s exposure starting at bar 204: a powerful presence in a dark, piano-heavy environment just before another urgent outburst. Not that you’d belittle the ensemble’s handling of the gentler passages in this movement, but its output made points more tellingly in the pages of maximum excitement and dynamic power. Lachlan Bramble’s solo between bars 100 and 106 proved unsteady on the top B flats but his octave duet with brother Ewen’s cello between bars 147 and 172 gave an excellent instance of pressure under piano fire.
Another example of straining in the violin line emerged from nowhere in the chameleonic second movement Allegro/Alternativo 1/Allegro/Alternativo 2/Tempo 1; the violin sets the running here, leading to three high Es – nothing sensationally high, but just a tad ‘off’ on this occasion. Later, at Smetana’s revisiting of his opening material, you could not fault the octave parallel performance between bars 137 and 145, then later between bars 155 and 162. Even better was to come in the Maestoso pages, where I thought the interpretation was close to ideal for dynamic thrust and a shared awareness of what everybody was doing. Only an imbalanced pizzicato 5th from the cello in the movement’s penultimate bar marred the surface of a final, subdued recall of the opening page.
Another helter-skelter finale, with an exact rendition from Goldsworthy of the three-against-two rhythmic contest that gives this movement a great deal of its energetic interest. Both strings followed the pianist’s lead in outlining a dramatic soundscape, distinguished by a reliable precision in melodic delineation and in the many small interjections that emerge from their lines. Contradicting my observations about the first movement, the group’s account of the first Meno presto interlude worked very well, the highlighting of all players sustained in eloquence and exhibiting three individual voices.
A near thing came at bar 330 where the strings almost missed their first beat reinforcement of Goldsworthy’s upward rush. But, against a minor flaw like that, you can set a compelling account of the final pages where Smetana fuses his resignation and bleak desolation in a propulsion to one of the least comforting major tonality conclusions in Romantic musical literature, carried off with a deliberately unpolished panache.
This combination of exhilaration and despair capped off a night of compromise, in some ways. The musicians showed no signs of discomfort, but would you seriously expect it? They’re all solid professionals, well-versed in piano trio practices; each of them would know these two works from many years of program preparation and public performance. As a minor benefit, the group was operating in optimal conditions, i. e. without facing a live audience with the concomitant problems of distraction by way of coughing, shuffling, whispering, sleeping, snoring – all those timeless forms of anti-social conduct with which I’ve become too familiar over the years, if never guilty of any.
However, you missed Amir Farid’s Bramble-balancing elegance, just as much as Helen Ayres’ crispness and Timothy Nankervis’ exuberance. Or perhaps I was mentally wallowing, bringing to mind past experiences of music-making by Thursday evening’s musicians, attempting to slot them into their usual positions and ambiences.
If we’ve learned anything from the past 6 months, it’s how to be grateful for musical mercies, great and small. This night was an example of how the MDCH carries out its principal benefaction of bringing us the music we love (much of the time) in performances that may not be ideal but can occasionally verge on excellence.