Open Writing

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Beethoven, Chopin, Handel/Halvorsen, Brahms; Poinsett Piano Trio (Deidre Hutton, violin; Christopher Hutton, cello; David Gross, piano), The Old Library, Whangarei, Northland, New Zealand, 9 May 2010.

A BIT OF BACKGROUND

Music Societies seem to be a natural phenomenon. They spring up all over, and for all sorts of purposes. The particular sub-species that I have in mind is probably the most common – the one that puts on varied recitals for the benefit of its members and the local community. These flourish, particularly but by no means solely, in places where professional performances are few and far between. The Music Society in Whangarei, a town that has plenty of worthy amateur performers, is one such.

Of course, as Darwin famously observed, being “natural” does not guarantee success, or even survival. Not so many years ago, WMS was in real and imminent danger of going under, and at one point even went into recession. It was saved only by the sheer grit, determination and uncommonly sound “business” thinking of its committee’s dedicated core.

Consequently, WMS is currently in full bloom, with audiences burgeoning and a season expanded from three to five recitals. However, perhaps a rather more impressive measure of the turnaround is that, in scarcely less a span of time, WMS has raised the funds for and purchased a splendid new concert grand piano.

THE REVIEW

The Whangarei Music Society’s 2010 season got off to a modest start with a recital by the Poinsett Piano Trio, at the start of their NZ tour. Only “modest”? Not “glorious”, or “auspicious”, or (Heaven forbid!) “awesome”? No. I chose that particular word with deliberate intent – in this World (which Candide would perhaps consider not to be the “best of all possible”?), characterised as it is by a pandemic ascendance of cosmetics over substance, modesty is coming to be regarded as a sign of mediocrity. Yet, if you value substance over show, where are you most likely to find it?

Well, for a start there’s WMS’s grand piano, whose substance easily outweighed its cosmetics, perched in symbolic modesty behind the string players’ paraphernalia. As I was about to hear, its substance extended to the sound, a rich, even tone, gratifyingly devoid of even the slightest trace of clangourous top or twangy bottom.

Many, if not most (well, all right, pretty well “all”!) chamber groups seem to come together through some serendipitous magnetism between like-minded musicians. In 2008, three teachers at Furman University, South Carolina – Deidre Hutton (violin, b. USA), Christopher Hutton (cello, b. New Zealand) and David Gross (piano, b. Germany) – felt that mystical pull, and from their union the Poinsett Trio was born.

Now, I’ll have to risk stating the obvious: in today’s crowded musical marketplace, where even virtuosi are seemingly ten a penny, it gets harder and harder to make your mark. Inevitably, many performers are anxious – even desperate – to impress, to find “something new” to say. Consequently, they are prone to over-cooking their performances. This may be – and especially before idolatrous “Riviera set” audiences usually is – an effective means of self-aggrandisement. The loser, of course, is the music, distended into an over-egged pudding.

If Beethoven’s youthful Piano Trio op. 1 no. 1 is over-cooked, more likely than not it will end up a travesty of his mature music. To experience it in its true colours – i.e. music by Haydn’s rough-edged, streetwise protégé, rather than the black-browed lion that would emerge a few years down the line – you need performers dedicated entirely to the service of the music; in a word, you need “modest” performers.

The Poinsett Trio fitted the bill admirably. Shunning showy trappings, these thoughtful interpreters blended almost organically, constantly considerate of one another and moving solely in sympathy with the music. Even the very sound of the violin and cello, a velvety complement to the piano, intimated modesty. And it paid real dividends.

The Poinsett did not, as the cynic might suspect, just settle for “under-cooking” the music. Oh, no – they set about nurturing its inherent qualities. From the naîve ardour of the Adagio, with its gorgeous turns of phrase, to the cheeky scherzo and the finale’s fizzing frolics, here indeed was Beethoven before deafness dimmed the youthful twinkle in his eye.

But, what about Brahms, that purported purveyor of “stodge”? What would a modest approach make of his mature music? Well, I reckon it’s likely that this spurious reputation stems at least partly from a similar tendency to over-cook Brahms’s already rich-enough textures, his music’s essentially classical basis being gobbled up by the bloating of his Romantic richness.

In his Piano Trio op. 87, the Poinsett’s approach revealed Brahms as a genial, generous lyricist tinged with Mendelssohnian deftness. In their hands, his octave doublings were not at all stodgy, but deliciously creamy, whilst the scherzo was feather-light, like a will o’ the wisp – and exactly (I suspect) as its composer intended!

In between, by contrast underlining their thoughtful approach to the main works, the Poinsett permitted themselves a modest amount of immodest indulgence. David Gross put the piano through its paces in Chopin’s Polonaise-Fantasie, op. 61. I might carp that the sustaining pedal somewhat muddied the waters of the busy inner lines, but that didn’t detract unduly from the performance as a whole. David effectively elicited not only the essential emotive energy and drama, but also the structural cohesion that makes this more than a mere fantasy, and far more than just a posh polonaise.

After the interval, Mr. and Mrs. Hutton regaled us with something much less familiar: Johan Halvorsen’s elaboration of a Handel Passacaglia theme. Most folk know that, in his Fourth Symphony, Brahms magnified the modest passacaglia, making of it a magnificent monument to times – and forms – past. Halvorsen, with scant respect for Handel’s original, turned it into an acrobatic extravaganza, a performing playground in which the two string players, with all due modesty of course, had a right old whale of a time. I can tell you, they weren’t the only ones.

I’m uncomfortably aware that I’m leaving more questions opened than answered. Just for the record, I’m not suggesting that the Poinsett Trio is in any way unique, just that nowadays this “modest” approach is, to my mind, far less common than it ought to be. Again, were my impressions just an accident of the particular choice of main works? Well, it’s possible (anything is possible!), but if I have got hold of the wrong end of the stick, then I’m more than happy to hang onto it. Regardless, if you get a chance to hear the Poinsett Trio for yourself, preferably “in the flesh”, you should grab it with both hands.

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