Dmitry Ferschtman & Mila Baslawaskaja: Innermost
TRPTK

If the musicianship on Innermost is at an exceptionally high level, there are some obvious reasons why. Cellist Dmitry Ferschtman (b. 1945) and pianist Mila Baslawaskaja (b. 1946) bring more than six decades years of shared stage experience to the project; further to that, the couple, who grew up and lived in the Soviet Union before moving to the Netherlands in 1978, have been married for fifty-four years. Their playing is deeply informed by experience, not only as musicians but as human beings who have seen much and traveled far. But when they play, they draw upon one thing in particular: singing. In their own words, “Singing forms the basis of Russian music education, and it is precisely this skill that forms the starting point for our interpretations. More than ever before, on Innermost we lay bare our souls, exactly as the title suggests.” To that end, they've selected compositions by Franz Schubert, Robert Schumann, and Dmitry Shostakovich that allow that singing character to fully resound.

They aren't merely three of their favourite composers, they each had a profound impact on the two at an early stage and factored into their decision to become musicians. Hearing Schubert's Die Winterreise for the first time as teens left an indelible mark, as did their initial encounters with Schumann and Shostakovich. Certainly there is contrast between the sensual romanticism of the two earlier composers' sonatas and Shostakovich's, but for Ferschtman and Baslawaskaja, all three are united by depth of feeling—their humanity, in general terms.

Schubert's Arpeggione Sonata, D. 821 (1824) is an especially challenging work for cellists to take up for one reason in particular: whereas the Arpeggione, designed and built in 1823 by the Viennese Johann Georg Stauffer and now a museum exhibit, is a six-string instrument, the cello, of course, has four. That aforesaid singing quality the duo value is evident at the outset in the opening movement's plaintive theme and carries over thereafter to the lighter-hearted passages that lend the material buoyancy and spirit. Baslawaskaja's playing is sensitivity incarnate, while Ferschtman's exudes lyricism, mournfulness, and mischievousness in equal measure. Tenderness and dignity infuse their thoughtfully considered rendering of the central “Adagio,” after which the mood lightens for the carefree charm of the “Allegretto.” As masterfully structured as the sonata's movements are, it's Schubert's flowing melodies that register most strongly.

Schumann's Violin Sonata No. 1, Op. 105 (1851) likewise required a transcription to be performed by cello, the conversion here done by Ferschtman himself. Like the opener a three-movement work, Schumann's sets sail with contrapuntal melodic lines, the musicians' expressive phrases intertwining as the material pushes forcefully along. Compared to the drama of the first movement, the second's gentler, delicate, and even in places pastoral; the third, however, bursts with vitality when driven by staccato execution and youthful elan.

Twenty-eight years old when he composed it, Shostakovich's Cello Sonata in D minor, Op. 40 (1934) is the sole sonata he wrote for the instrument. The romantic tone with which the opening part begins aligns the work to the others on the recording, even if the Russian composer's distances itself from Schubert's and Schumann's in other ways. Shifting to a folk dance-styled presentation, the second enters with a pounding ostinato, grinding cello figures, and emphatic piano melodies. If the crepuscular creep of the “Largo” adds an elegiac tone to the work, the concluding “Allegro” exposes its devilish side. While the piece generally exudes a carefree character, darker undercurrents give it a hint of unease. There are signature touches, a sardonic gesture here and a cryptic one there, that brand the work as Shostakovich's, but there are as many romantic moments, and the work's all the better for it.

February 2023