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Above: Maxim Vengerov, photo by Jennifer Taylor

Mozart’s Violin Sonata in E-Minor, K. 304 was composed in 1778; this is the only one of Mozart’s violin sonatas written in a minor key; its underlying wistfulness might be connected to the fact that the composer’s mother had passed away while he was working on it.

Departing from the norm, this sonata is in only two movements. The Allegro takes its character from the poignant opening theme, played in unison by violin and piano. The piano brings forth a second, more animated theme, though the mood remains restrained. A lovely dovetailing of dynamics marked the Vengerov/Trpčeski partnership’s playing, the violinist’s repeated insistent notes met by the pianist’s wonderful subtleties. 

Mozart marks the second movement Tempo di Minuetto, but it has a forlorn quality not usually heard in a minuet. Solo piano introduces the grave yet graceful opening melody, and soon the two instruments take turns with it, their voices entwining. A major-key interlude gives us an unexpected ray of light, with sublimely soft playing from Mr. Trpčeski. The minor mode resumes, the melody flowing on to a rather sudden stop.

Photo by Jennifer Taylor

In direct contrast to the Mozart, Mssrs. Vengerov and Trpčeski next offered the Prokofiev Violin Sonata No.1. Prokofiev is one of my A-list composers, and this sonata encapsulates everything I love about his works: the rough-edged drama, the heartfelt lyricism, the chiaroscuro dynamics, and the subtle wit of his music always fascinates me.

Following the four-movement structure (slow-fast-slow-fast) of the Baroque church sonatas, Prokofiev opens this sonata with a somber passage from the piano. The violin joins, edgy and buzzy, and then the two instruments blend in a unison lament. The piano’s dolorous notes draw the violin into a yearning, dramatic passage. Then the violin skitters softly on high as the pianist intones soft chords; it sounds “like the wind in a graveyard” as Prokofiev told David Oistrakh, who played the sonata’s premiere performance.

The second movement, Allegro brusco, begins vigorously, lapses into a songful state, then turns fast and furious. Things subside briefly, but accents soon propel the piano forward again as the violin makes agitated remarks. Calming to lyricism, the music then gets grand – with a soaring melody leading to a wild finish.

In the third movement, Andante, the Vengerov/Trpčeski transported us with their spectacular playing. An opening passage of piano filigree is taken up by the violin. A gorgeous violin melody is heard, whilst the piano sustains a magical atmosphere. This ethereal music puts us in a blissful state, with Mr. Vengerov finishing his reverie with a miraculously sustained pianissimo trill. Heavenly!

Brilliant playing from both artists drove the sonata’s concluding Allegrissimo forward in spectacular fashion. A melodious interlude lets us again savour the warmth and serenity of Prokofian lyricism, and then some biting staccati dazzle us yet again. Another whiff of the “wind in a graveyard” motif leads on to work’s quiet closing. 

Photo by Jennifer Taylor

Following the interval, César Franck’s ever-popular Violin Sonata was given a thrilling performance by the Vengerov/Trpčeski duo. This sonata was inspired by the marriage of the great violinist Eugène Ysaÿe to Louise Bourdeau in 1886.  Franck’s initial idea for the sonata was to commence with a a slow and reflective opening movement, but Ysaÿe persuaded him that it worked best at a quicker tempo, so Franck marked it Allegretto, ben moderato. This movement juxtaposes rather than develops two themes, the first given almost exclusively to the violin, the second to the piano. These themes, particularly the violin’s, will return in the following movements. From note one, I fell under the spell of this music, which seemed so fresh and vivid as performed tonight. Mr. Trpčeski’s playing was positively rhapsodic, whilst Mr. Vengerov poured so much passion into the thrilling melodies the composer has given him.  

The agitated, dramatic second movement casts its own spell, with the players again displaying their intriguing dynamic range and their peerless legato. The music is at once propulsive and poetic. Then comes the pensive Recitativo-Fantasia, wherein Mr. Vengerov’s rapturous playing in the high range is heard over the piano’s gently rolling misterioso figurations.

The familiar and beloved themes reappear in the sonata’s final movement, which builds to a glorious finish. The inevitable reaction of the audience to the playing of Mssrs. Vengerov and Trpčeski was a fervent ovation, richly deserved. 

Ravel’s Tzigane was a late addition to the program. Familiar to me mainly from the ballet that George Balanchine created for his muse, Suzanne Farrell, to this music, it’s a Vengerov specialty: he played it here at his February 2020 concert, just days before the pandemic shut everything down. 

In July 1922, Maurice Ravel met the young Hungarian violinist, Jelly d’Aranyi, who was the grand-niece of famed 19th-century violinist Joseph Joachim. The composer was intrigued when he heard the violinist playing gypsy melodies at a party. Inspired, he fashioned a gypsy rhapsody, working on it over a period of two years. Ravel completed it just a few days before the premiere: on April 26, 1924, in London, Mlle. d’Aranyi and pianist Henri Gil-Marchex gave the premiere of Tzigane.

Tzigane is a legendary showpiece, and tonight the amazing dexterity of the violinist (later joined by the pianist) kept the audience on the proverbial edge of their seats. After a giant “pre-cadenza”, the music starts to dance, by turns high and shimmering, then wildly earthy.

At the concert’s end, Trpčeski and Vengerov were greeted with a lively ovation. They returned for three encores: two delicious Fritz Kreisler treats, and then Gabriel Fauré’s sublime Après un rêve, which was sublimely played. Bravo, gentlemen!  Bravissimo!!

All photos by Jennifer Taylor, courtesy of Carnegie Hall.