Some CD projects start from a composer or repertoire, Stranger Sainton by violinist Dmitry Smirnov starts from a violin: the Guarneri del Gesù from around 1744 known as the ‘Sainton Betti’. The instrument was once played by the French violinist Prosper Sainton (1813–1890) and is today in a private Swiss collection. For this recording it was made available to Smirnov.
The title refers both to the instrument and to the largely forgotten violinist. Sainton studied in Paris with François-Antoine Habeneck, obtained a first prize there in 1834, and from the middle of the nineteenth century built a career in France and England. The album brings his music back together with the instrument that bears his name.
A forgotten name
Smirnov does not opt for a programme that fully reconstructs Sainton's own music. Alongside two works by the violinist – the brief Rêverie and the Thème italien varié op. 10 – Paganini, Berlioz, Strauss and Rossini are heard. The repertoire thus lies largely within the musical environment in which Sainton functioned as a performer and contemporary. His Thème italien varié forms an interesting introduction. Sainton proves here to be a skilled composer for the violin, familiar with the virtuoso possibilities of the instrument, but the music convinces above all as a period document.
The short Rêverie with which the CD opens sets an intimate tone, after which the Guarneri can fully shine in the Thème italien varié. Smirnov plays with assurance and suppleness, but never lets the technical possibilities of the violin dominate the musical narrative. The variations acquire enough character and contrast to make the composition more than a mere curiosity. The Kammerorchester Basel accompanies with fire and also gets room in the orchestral passages to add its own touch. When Smirnov steps forward again, the orchestra smoothly returns to elegant accompaniment.
Without circus
After Sainton's own music follows I palpiti by Niccolò Paganini (1782–1840), a distinctly virtuoso work. The variations on a theme from Rossini's Tancredi are eminently suited to showcasing the qualities of a historical violin, but Smirnov avoids an approach in which speed and bravura determine the entire story. Alongside suppleness, his playing also has a certain sharpness. The Guarneri does not sound consistently round and polished; especially in the lower registers the violin has a dark core, while the higher range can become clear and at times almost fierce.
Smirnov seeks the rhetoric behind the notes: the alternation between tension and relaxation, between song and bravura. At the close he moreover gives the work a wilful, almost modern accent. The Kammerorchester Basel follows him attentively. Victor Jacob keeps the accompaniment light and agile, so that the solo violin does not have to compete with a massive orchestral sound.
The violin as human voice
The special character of the instrument comes through most convincingly in Rêverie et caprice by Hector Berlioz (1803–1869). For me this was a completely unknown work and immediately one of the discoveries of this CD. The music calls for a more lyrical approach and lets the sound of the Guarneri be heard in all its shades. The combination of brilliance and vulnerability acquires more meaning here than in the overtly virtuoso works. Smirnov does not constantly seek the utmost projection of the violin, but also lets the smaller dynamic nuances speak. As a result the instrument acquires something human: not only a dazzling exterior, but also a more vulnerable interior.
Berlioz moreover places Sainton once again in the Parisian musical world in which he received his training and built a significant part of his career. Rêverie et caprice is therefore more than merely an attractive work for this recording: it gives the historical framework of the project additional relief.
The orchestra takes the lead
The most surprising choice – and for me also the greatest stylistic break – is Der Bürger als Edelmann, in the orchestral suite op. 60, by Richard Strauss (1864–1949). Here the attention shifts for a long stretch from the solo violin to the orchestra. Harp, piano, trumpet, woodwinds, cello, violas and percussion all receive moments in which they can profile themselves.
Musically, Der Bürger als Edelmann is a strongly performed part of the CD. The Kammerorchester Basel plays with precision, suppleness and a keen ear for the many instrumental colours and mutual dialogues. Strauss's irony and lightly grotesque characterisation are given full scope, while the ensemble sound retains a striking chamber-music character. Yet the choice clashes within the concept of the CD. The suite of nearly thirty minutes removes the Guarneri del Gesù from the centre for a long time.
Where the violin shows a different face with Sainton, Paganini and Berlioz, here the orchestra takes over entirely. That the Kammerorchester Basel was also involved as producer of the project explains the presence of the suite from the CD's genesis, but in terms of content it remains hard to place. Within an album that starts from one special violin and the history of its former owner, this lengthy orchestral interruption ultimately feels like a detour.
Quid?
Strauss is followed by a moment of repose with the Andante con variazioni by Gioachino Rossini (1792–1868) on a theme from Tancredi, for violin and harp. The contrast with the preceding orchestral spectacle is striking. Only Smirnov and harpist Magdalena Hoffmann remain, so the disc returns to a more intimate scale. Smirnov and Hoffmann keep the close light and transparent.
After the broadly spun-out Strauss suite, this small finale almost feels like a return to the essence of the project: the Guarneri and its sound, now without an orchestra around it. At the same time, it comes too late: after Strauss, the disc seems to have already reached a natural end. The most interesting aspect of Stranger Sainton should have been the violin itself, but the disc does too little with the story that is built up around this remarkable instrument.
