The music of Antonin Dvorák is like a wide river whose slow-moving surface hides powerful currents that grab the unwary foot-dipper by the ankles and carry them away. Cellist Steven Isserlis’s playing is not much different.
So what a powerful combination the two make in a significant and hugely enjoyable new recording.
It’s strange how the United Kingdom’s most famous living cellist has waited this long to record Dvorák’s B minor Concerto, Op. 104, which dates from 1895. This has to be the most popular of all 19th century concertos for the instrument, and is one every cello student ends up learning at some point in their advanced studies. Yet Isserlis has waited until seasoned middle age to commit this piece to a studio microphone.
It was well worth the wait.
Isserlis is a master of musical sculpture, knowing exactly how to shape Dvorák’s long, taffy-like melodies. Quiet passages, of which there are many, are delicate without losing momentum or intensity. And the cellist can erupt in emotional outbursts without ever losing composure or control.
The symphonic backup for the Hyperion album recorded last year in Italy is the Mahler Chamber Orchestra with conductor Daniel Harding — another master-sculptor of sound. The pairing is magical, especially in how Harding teases out the gorgeous, delicate woodwind textures in the score, most prominent in the second movement.
This is a gold-standard interpretation that’s worth a listener’s attention even if they already have another recording they like.
It’s ironic that Dvorák’s Cello Concerto became one of the world’s favourites, because the composer wasn’t a huge fan of the cello as a solo instrument. Most people say the cello sings like the human voice, but Dvorák once wrote that the cello mutters unintelligibly. But his own concerto proved him wrong.
So there.
Isserlis chose a version that doesn’t include an elegiac ending Dvorák added after his sister-in-law Josefina’s death. Instead, the album includes an orchestral arrangement (not by Dvorák) of her favourite song, “Lasst mich allein” (Leave me Alone), which lends thematic material to the Cello Concerto.
Isserlis has also included an A Major Cello Concerto Dvorák wrote in his 20s, in a heavily revised and orchestrated version by early 20th century German composer Günter Raphael. It’s a compelling piece, but a bit anonymous next to the great, 1895 Cello Concerto. Isserlis and Harding give it their all, to nice effect.
There’s also a bonus track of the original ending for the B minor Concerto, but at 92 seconds, it’s really just a stray piece of fluff on the lapel of this otherwise gorgeous and toasty-warm cashmere overcoat of an album.
For all the details, including audio samples, click here.
John Terauds