There can’t be many more picturesque locations for a summer music festival than the alpine setting of Verbier, nestled in the heart of the Swiss Alps and commanding a healthy air of relaxation and civility. Now celebrating its 25th anniversary, the Verbier Festival continues to draw big name artists from around the world while providing a platform for young emerging artists along the way. This time, however, it was experienced hands taking the stage, showing just how it is done. Maxim Vengerov easily falls into that category of artists who can command the “and friends” strapline when devising concert programmes, but in this case, the “friend” in question was brother-in-law Ilya Gringolts, performing on equal terms in a mouth-watering programme.
Verbier’s venue of choice for most of its chamber music, the modern Église, provided an intimate environment with clear acoustics, not too reverberant, and in a change to the running order, after a Prokofiev-style “Happy Birthday” to the Verbier Festival, Vengerov and Gringolts decided to kick off with Prokofiev’s Sonata for Two Violins in C major, Op.56. From the very opening, it was clear that there was great chemistry and understanding between the two. Pensive passages were carefully sculpted, with the players handing over not only melodic lines but also timbres to each other. This takes great skill. The muted melancholy of the third movement was eerily played, contrasting dramatically with the raw and gritty fast movements, with copious amounts of grind on the strings and a folk-infused final movement reaching a frivolous climax.
Gringolts has a rather modest and understated demeanour, but this belies his deep musicality and intense fire. Bartók’s monumental Sonata for Solo Violin, therefore, made a perfect vehicle for these qualities. Playing from memory, Gringolts mastered this beast of a piece, displaying every technique under the sun and, more importantly, providing a convincing interpretation. Creating an organic feel in the Chaconne-style opening movement is no mean feat, with Gringolts’ ebb and flow helping to shape the tricky melodic lines and harmonic shifts. The fugal second movement was punchy, with a wild and relentless drive, and Gringolts fashioned a feather-light touch and an overriding sense of wistful sadness in the third movement. The Presto, with its busy wasp-like murmurings and folk-like themes, was sinister with a touch of anarchy. This was an outstanding performance of a quite phenomenal work.