Tuesday 6 November 2018

The Violin Ascending

Sunday night found me in the Music Hall of Middle Tennessee State University, listening to a senior student recital for violin (with piano or cello) given by Sarah Wilfong Joblin.

Conflict of Interest Alert:  Sarah Wilfong Joblin is my niece by marriage.  

The programme she presented gave a fascinating assortment of musical styles.  I was especially pleased that the empty, flashy virtuoso fireworks of the nineteenth century violin virtuosi were put on leave of absence for this recital.  

The evening opened with a truly challenging passacaglia for solo violin by Austrian composer Franz Biber, composed around 1676. This solo movement comes as a finale to his monumental set of Rosenkranz-Sonaten ("Rosary Sonatas" or "Mystery Sonatas).  It served as a prototype for many later efforts along similar lines, and is the direct ancestor of Bach's more celebrated violin chaconne in D minor.

The opening four notes outline the descending scale which lies at the foundation of the music.  These were played with an air of discovery.  As the work progressed, and the variations grew more and more elaborate, Wilfong Joblin allowed the tempo of the music to alternately relax and intensify, giving pleasing variety to what can otherwise be in danger of monotony.  Also noteworthy was her full, round tone when playing in Baroque style, without any vibrato.

The next work was The Lark Ascending, a long-time favourite of mine.  It's the true exemplar of composer Ralph Vaughan Williams' favourite technique of writing long, winding, improvisatory solos for a violin (or viola, in some cases), while the remaining orchestral players pause on a long-held chord as if listening raptly to the soloist.  

What's wanted here is a gentle, soft-edged legato in even the most complicated passagework of the solo part, allowing the audience to feel that a lark is truly singing for them.  Wilfong Joblin's tone and bowing completely captured that feeling, as well as giving again the sense of music newly discovered -- no mean feat after lengthy rehearsing.  She came as close as anyone can to accurately tuning the fiendish high double-stops.  Pianist Richard Blumenthal played the piano part with such subtlety and finesse that I didn't miss the orchestra.

The third piece came from a composer known to me by name only, William Grant Still, long known as the "dean of African-American composers."  His Suite for Violin and Piano of 1943 came from near the midpoint of his long composing career.  The second movement, which we heard on this occasion, has also been published in an arrangement for string orchestra under the title Mother and Child.

Wilfong Joblin played in this work with an aptly singing, almost coaxing tone colour, reflecting that title.  The themes and harmonies had something of the flavour of the American spirituals.  Long lyrical lines unfolded easily and naturally from both violin and piano.

For a change of pace, the next work (Limerock) was a traditional Irish jig, here arranged for violin and cello by Mark O'Connor and Edgar Meyer.  Cellist Amber Den Exter joined the violinist in a rousing, toe-tapping performance of this lively musical treat.

The major work on the programme was the concluding Violin Sonata No. 3 in C Minor, Op. 35 by Norwegian master Edvard Grieg.  This sonata was by far the most dramatic music we heard all night, and right from the outset, with its surging waves of violin sound, the drama and fire were there.  Grieg calls for a good deal of flexibility in dynamics throughout this movement, and all the moments of crescendo and diminuendo were well judged.  The coda built up from its quiet opening to a powerful conclusion, the final 4-chord cadence played by both violin and piano with terrific intensity.

The lyrical opening of the second movement was another delightful moment from pianist Blumenthal, simply played and beautifully shaped.  Soaring violin lines soon joined in to carry the melody.  The faster central section brought more energetic, yet still light, playing, marked by Wilfong Joblin's crisp pizzicato chords.  Throughout the movement, the folk-dance inspiration of the composer was clearly present.

The finale opened quietly but soon built to bigger tone, with the violin cleanly capturing the odd off-beat rhythm of the main theme.  Balance, too, remained clear at all times as the piano part reached the weightiest keyboard writing heard yet in this recital.  Well-judged doses of rubato and dynamic gradations helped to avoid monotony in a movement which depends, to a dangerous extent, on two simple melodic figures.  The concluding pages, a prestissimo coda (that means "played at breakneck speed") built up to a rousing, powerful finish.

Overall, and with no regard to family relationships, a rewarding performance of an unusual yet always intriguing programme of violin music.

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