Brahms’ three violin sonatas fit nicely onto a single CD, and here in this budget newcomer, Ilya Kaler and pianist Alexander Peskanov offer their interpretations in sessions recorded and produced in Toronto by the classical guitarist Norbert Kraft. Although the performances are competent, there’s an underlying tension and stiffness about Kaler’s playing that’s unwelcome in these works. That’s chiefly a concern with the middle panel of Brahms’ triptych, the genial A major sonata. Kaler and Peskanov sound their best in the slow movement, achieving a good level of contrast between the central Vivace section and the orbiting andante segments. But the first movement hasn’t the breadth or eloquence that Brahms’ long paragraphs require. Itzhak Perlman and Daniel Barenboim (on Sony) afford a more satisfying, spacious presence, and Perlman’s inimitable way of floating his sound, rather than pressing it out as Kaler often does, is more idiomatically Brahmsian.
Kaler’s account of the Op. 78 G major work is more successful, and the best playing on this CD is in the opening vivace movement. With well-managed thematic exchanges in the development and plenty of motoric energy in the outer sections, Kaler and Peskanov sound fully in control. Kaler’s tight vibrato and strong attack, combined with generally fast tempos, secures an exciting performance. Only the Adagio disappoints, where a more relaxed and understated manner would have created a more pleasing effect–an approach persuasively demonstrated by Perlman and Barenboim.
The Russian pair makes a generally fine impression in the D minor third sonata. The declamatory mood suits their punchy, resolute style well, at least in the outer movements. Brahms adds the direction “con sentimento” to the Scherzo, and here Perlman’s softer-hued phrasings and more subtle bow control, combined with Barenboim’s deftly supportive accompaniment, is more satisfying than Kaler’s more deliberate manner. In sum, Kaler and Peskanov play all three sonatas with fervor and energy. Their limitation is rhythmic inflexibility, which, combined with a reluctance to play sotto voce or much below mezzo-forte anywhere, greatly diminishes the music’s introspective and confessional qualities. Naxos’ close studio feel and metallic piano timbre don’t add to the disc’s attractions.
