To tour a recital programme of a single composer is bold for any violinist. When the composer is Johannes Brahms and the programme covers his complete works for violin and piano, it might seem positively daunting – unless that violinist is Hilary Hahn. A musician of rare sensitivity, she navigated the challenges of the three sonatas with aplomb at Wigmore Hall.
The opening work, Brahms’ Violin Sonata no. 1 in G major, was composed over the summers of 1878 and 1879 while holidaying in Wörthersee, Austria. It’s a sunshine piece, but Hahn and pianist Andreas Haefliger introduced a meditative air to the first movement, in deference to its ma non troppo tempo marking. The effect was to evoke a reflective Brahms in the innocence of summer.
There were a few uneven moments between soloist and accompanist in this early part of the evening. Where Hahn commanded the stage at all times, with her faultless intonation and signature ability to project, Haefliger occasionally struggled in the outer movements. Hahn was patient with the odd mismatch in tempo and gentle in helping her partner contend with Brahms’ rhythmic games. These distractions dissipated, however, during the central slow movement. Here, Haefliger proved ideal, allowing Hahn’s gorgeous double-stops to fill the hall while both fell into a stream of unabashed romanticism. The closing bars, a plaintive, pianissimo violin melody over an E flat pedal note, melted away lovingly.
From 1886, Brahms’ summer retreats were spent by Lake Thun in Switzerland, where he wrote the Second and Third Violin Sonatas. Hahn and Haefliger were fully in synch for their performance of the A major. The Allegro amabile was tender, the third movement equally self-assured. Hahn’s biting octaves and Haefliger’s piano runs were thrilling to watch. They were let down only by the piano’s periodic loudness in the second movement. A cross between a slow movement and a Scherzo, Haefliger struggled to adjust quickly between contrasting sections, and overwhelmed Hahn’s delicate pizzicato on numerous occasions.
After the interval came the last of the triptych, the D minor sonata. The only sonata in a minor key – and with four movements rather than three – the piece is full-bodied, with a sense of high drama throughout. The first movement had a raw intensity to it, as the duo brought the work’s anguished chromaticism to the fore. In the second movement, more akin to a violin concerto slow movement than chamber music, they bathed in its lush harmonies and orchestral sound world, casting a spell over the hall. They launched into the final movement with a bolt of electricity. Now perfectly receptive to the other’s every dynamic and colour change, their playing reached its finest. Hahn’s tone was golden, and the pair built to a powerful and satisfying close.