Expectations were high. Yo-Yo Ma and Kathryn Stott were to perform cello and piano recital at San Francisco’s Davies Hall. The 2700 seat auditorium was just about filled. When the smiling, waving Ma and the elegant Stott entered, the audience was exuberant. From Fauré to Franck through Dvořák, Assad, Boulanger, Shostakovitch and Pärt, dexterity, beauty, technical prowess and mastery, most expectations were met. Transcendence? No, but exceptional musical know-how, remarkable reciprocity between performers and a down-to-earth, friendly ambience created a winning evening.
They began with Fauré’s Berceuse, establishing their notable intimacy in this large hall – they have collaborated for decades. Stott’s piano, however, emerged more clearly while Ma’s cello seemed more interior, waiting to be coaxed forth. With Dvořák’s Songs My Mother Taught Me, with its aching and sinuous melody, Ma’s cello began to assert itself and by the middle of Brazilian guitarist-composer Sergio Assad’s Menino, while Stott’s piano treble register firmed up its ground, Ma emerged, his familiar finesse and mastery displaying the work’s embroidery. This continued with Nadia Boulanger’s Cantique where, with little separation between the spinning cello line and its partner piano, Ma’s cello asserted itself. They had a grand time with Fauré’s Papillon, speeding the brilliant butterfly and its French garden milieu from flower to flower in a satisfying display.
Then came Shostakovitch's Cello Sonata in D minor with its dynamic criss-crossing rhythmic energy. Who expected that beautiful melody, introduced by the cello, midst the dissonance? The piano offered rich arpeggios to match, taking the lead developing the theme. Each instrument simultaneously pursued its development with pizzicato or staccato riffs, creating a busy, vibrant texture. Beyond the parallel union, the cello pressed forth the lyrical line. The Allegro second movement continued each one’s rhythmic pursuit, Ma on the bridge with slides, Stott at the keyboard with active cross-hands and detailed attention. In the Largo, the cello spun a solemn, stabilizing melody after all that rhythmic excitement, creating an oasis of depth. It also brought a quasi-reconciliation after such disparateness, even as the cello descended while the piano played in the treble. The fourth movement continued the penetrating dynamism, leading to a full-bodied and vigorous finale.
The second half began with Spiegel im Spiegel by Estonian composer Arvo Pärt. Why the screen projections for this meditative piece, evocative of Gregorian chant? Despite Ma’s explanation about the need for unity, the music’s evocation of silence works on its own. The Franck favorite Violin Sonata in A major, transcribed here for cello, seemed anti-climactic at first, performed with more effort than usual. By the third movement, however, as the performers settled deeper into the score, they brought forth more of its direct spirit and power and continued with significant thrust and passion through until the end. Beyond the encores, the cheering and waving, Ma mimicked a pirouette and with Stott left the stage with a field of rich music and joie de vivre behind them.
