One of the celebratory streams to mark the 75th anniversary of the Aldeburgh Festival remembers iconic events that have shaped the legacy of significant contributors. I was fortunate to witness a superb cello and piano recital given by Alban Gerhardt and Steven Osborne which reprised the 1961 programme performed by Benjamin Britten and Mstislav Rostropovich. No doubt there were some members of the audience at Snape who were present at the original recital, and it would be intriguing to know how they would compare the performances of the individual pieces, and the overall impact of the programme. For the rest of us, Gerhardt and Osborne were simply brilliant; they are masters of the sublime.
Schubert’s Sonata in A minor "Arpeggione" is sometimes disparaged by the epithet "ugly duckling", and it occupies its own particular nest, both on the composer’s island and in the wildfowl reserve of the standard repertoire (a fate it shares with other strange birds, such as Ravel’s Bolero). However, after Gerhardt and Osborne lovingly groomed it with their hands-on magic, I overheard a conversation where it was said to be such a heartbreaking piece. That was perceptive: the pathos that infused the playing of the duo didn’t need to produce a swan, which are not known to possess much of a voice.
As friendships go, that of Britten and Rostropovich must rank somewhere in the higher reaches of whatever metrics are used to measure those relationships. It inspired one of the great sonatas of the 20th century, and its premiere at the original recital must have been quite an occasion. Gerhardt and Osborne’s exposition of the whole work was riveting: the fractured gestures of the opening sequence left goosebumps in their wake; the tension was palpable in the elegiac dialogue. The Scherzo-Pizzicato was the explosive reaction of two volatile elements brought together, just to see what happens. The Energico marking for the little march was an invitation for staged bombast – which blew itself out in a puff of harmonics – and the rollercoaster ride of the Finale just left us breathless. It was glorious, as indeed it must have been at the premiere; on both occasions the Scherzo-Pizzicato was encored.
I imagine that it was Britten’s love of folkish things that led to the inclusion of Schumann’s 5 Pieces in Folk Style. Like the Schubert piece, it is a strange beast in the composer’s menagerie. Gerhardt and Osborne played it as a set of quintuplets sporting examples of family traits – all of them hopelessly Romantic by name and by nature. I think that Gerhardt must be a disciple of Mesmer: he almost hypnotised himself with the movement of his fingers, and at one point his body and his cello seemed to fuse into a single entity.
It goes without saying that Debussy’s Cello Sonata in D minor is on the same list of greats as Britten’s, but one would be foolhardy to attempt any ranking. The reading by Gerhardt and Osborne vividly dramatized the extraordinary energy and passion with which the piece is imbued. Here indeed, in the Sérénade, was Pierrot moonstruck and forlorn, resignedly strumming his guitar and singing his heart out.
At the original concert Peter Pears sang the second encore – an aria from Bach’s Cantata 41, Woferne du den edlen Frieden, the text of which speaks of being blessed, hallowed and chosen. Here, Gerhardt and Osborne were joined by Ian Bostridge for a memorable closing of a recital that long will live in the memory.
Christopher’s accommodation was funded by Britten Pears Arts.
