He who has youth has the future. That saying brings deBijloke into practice this season with a series of Young Masters. For the third concert, Duo Adelfoi made their appearance: an exciting debut in a packed Kraakhuis. Together with Schubert, Grieg and several compositions of their own creation, the Ghent brotherly duo Bataillie proved to be a disarming tandem with solid musical stamina.
It was a sign of the times. Publisher Anton Diabelli, who in the posthumous print of Schubert's violin sonatas (D384, 385 and 408) designated these works as sonatinas. Diminishing, literally and figuratively? Likely the man's primary motive was commercial: lighter works naturally have a wider sales audience. But let's not beat around the bush either. It would take long after his early death before the composer Schubert was fully appreciated. Or could be, since much of his music went unheard. Meanwhile, his rehabilitation has likewise become a fact, also for these "modest and unassuming pieces", according to Harry Halbreich "undoubtedly the gems of their kind […]". And the Belgian musicologist added admiringly: "[…] for small-scale works easy to perform seldom maintain a quality of inspiration such as to be found here!"
Easy to perform?
What would the brotherly duo Florestan and Ludovic Bataillie think of that… As Duo Adelfoi – Ancient Greek for, yes, brothers – these Young Masters made their debut at deBijloke last Sunday in the concert series of the same name. They began with the first sonat(in)a in D major. "That the better amateur dares attempt this – to be complete: usually only the first movement – suggests that it is quite comprehensible music", they say in unison. But then a clarification: "It's far from easy!" Paradoxically, any misconception about the difficulty level of this work is actually Schubert's fault. For what charms this music through its simplicity, especially in the faster movements, is an undisguised, almost childlike naïveté. The joy of playing among the performers was equally evident. Yet nothing is as it seems with our then 19-year-old composer – his fourth symphony, called Die Tragische by the author, was completed in the same period (1816). Moreover, the fragile heart of this triptych consists of an again unaffected, yet so deeply moving interlude. It is this magnificent moment of happy tears that gives the Andante its emotional eternal value. And makes listening to classical music so intimate. One could endlessly vary this passage in minor key. But forget it, let alone improve it?
As you can see for yourself in the video below from 1:18: 'the proof of the music is in the listening'. Somewhat enigmatically, pianist Florestan spoke of Schubert's "cosmic wandering pace" in his introduction, in whose footsteps it is delightful to follow. Soon it became clear to the audience in the Kraakhuis what he meant. With a swift and determined stride, the carefree Allegro molto was set in motion. What followed was nonetheless a meticulous interplay in which subtle unison and playful dialogues continuously alternated. The Andante too began as a Sunday walk. Until the tone suddenly shifts, and that indescribable beauty overwhelms you. How does a musician keep cool at such a moment? By effacing yourself: that's what we're taught during our training. "First and foremost, the audience must be moved", violist Ludovic declared after the concert. That unselfishness translated into bowing without exaggerated pathos, allowing the lyricism to flow so freely. "Die Schubertsche Melodie ist ein empfindliches System, das leicht zerstört werden kann", as the experienced German duo Avenhaus-Weithaas knows. But there was no sign of any disruptive behavior from this young man. In the finale, however, the enthusiasm did continue on an upward trajectory. Duo Adelfoi started the cheerful Allegro vivace still categorically and somewhat measured, but subsequently let loose the reins more to ultimately come skipping over the final measure line.
"He never tired of it"
He is Edvard Grieg. And what the famous Norwegian composer and pianist according to Florestan Bataillie never tired of, is his third violin sonata (1887). Was it because this work reminded him of the 19-year-old Teresina Tua, the Italian angelo del violino who inspired him to write? Who knows, but the explanation certainly also lies in the music: the equally powerful as beautiful elaboration of this last chapter from his limited chamber music oeuvre which one never tires of hearing and playing. So Grieg's last sonata in C minor has by now become indispensable from the great violin repertoire. It is a particularly demanding triptych, and not only technically, but certainly also emotionally. Through the frequently changing temperament, the endurance of the musicians is put to a serious test. If it is still pleasant horsing around with Schubert, here they face a perilous mountain climb. But it does yield a breathtakingly beautiful and striking (note) landscape. In a letter that Grieg wrote around the turn of the century to 'poet of the fatherland' Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson, his fellow tone-poet describes the expansive character of this third sonata: "Mes sonates pour violon sont parmi mes meilleures oeuvres, chacune d'elles apporte une nouvelle phase dans mon développement. Ma première période est plutôt naïve et débordant d'idées, la seconde est 'patriotique' et la troisième ouvre des horizons et les embellit." And so it was exciting to await what late Romantic vistas would appear on the horizon with Duo Adelfoi.
It became a performance that certainly did not shy away from contrasts, and in that way paid proper tribute to the sonata. There was no question of a study round in the Allegro molto ed appassionato: light-footed heroics on the strings was supported by firm, dramatic chords. As exuberant and compelling as this opening worked towards a first dynamic climax, so tempered and lovely sounded the lyrical continuation. The fine alternation between agitation and resignation held the audience's attention effortlessly. By adeptly switching from one extreme to the other, both twenty-somethings demonstrated great empathy. That already boded well for the slow movement, the Allegretto espressivo alla Romanza, in which Grieg presents a surprising find. "The second part begins with a piano solo that is so poignant that for us it represents the pinnacle of the work," testifies a candid Florestan. Despite always delicate touch, he nevertheless gave the introduction the necessary relief. "The melody that takes listeners over the fjords is then taken over by the violin, and this then leads quite abruptly into a folk dance in the middle of this section," adds Ludovic. He too succeeded in taking the listener completely away, with a slender tone and excellent intonation, before throwing himself with full conviction into a short, piquant outburst (Allegro molto). Energy was ultimately also a trump card in the finale. Not everything in this shimmering Allegro animato went always smoothly or flawlessly. But more important than individual bravura was the driven interplay. As in the opening section, the brothers squeezed out one (final) last acceleration. The applause was more than deserved.
No politics, but patriotic pastiche
One of the missions of Duo Adelfoi is to promote music from their own soil. So it happened that the Romanza of Lodewijk Mortelmans appeared between Schubert and Grieg. More interesting than this somewhat pathetic indulgence was the life story of the Antwerp composer sketched by Ludovic Bataillie. In addition to director of the Royal Flemish Music Conservatory, he was also a successful conductor and concert organizer, co-founder of the authors' association NAVEA – today's Sabam – and one of the founders of what today is called the Queen Elisabeth Competition. A particularly busy person then. But that is true of the older Bataillie as well, as evidenced by the two playful pieces of his hand with which this Sunday morning concert ended. "In my compositions, the wink is never far away." And indeed: Ognatango, the swinging outcome of a composition competition at school, and Belgian Blues, a more recent work on the occasion of the national holiday, have not the slightest pretension, but disarm with some witty remarks and recognizable (folk song) themes. It is certainly not the intention to engage in politics, as was emphasized once more. Fortunately, this patriotic pastiche was not serious enough for that anyway.
There followed one last memento of this already memorable concert: an encore with the apt title Souvenir. Side by side, Florestan and Ludovic Bataillie took a standing ovation. The duo had given their best in this home match. Their debut at deBijloke thereby reached great heights several times over. Something that could certainly be toasted to afterwards. Just as to a new year filled with many such musical memories.
- WHAT: Franz Schubert (1797-1828) – Sonatine in D, opus post. 137 nr. 1 (D 384) | Edvard Grieg (1843-1907) – Violin Sonata nr. 3 in c, opus 45 | Lodewijk Mortelmans (1868-1952) – Romanza | Florestan Bataillie (°1992) – Ognatango; Belgian Blues
- WHO: Duo Adelfoi [Ludovic Bataillie (violin), Florestan Bataillie (piano)]
- WHERE: Kraakhuis, deBijloke, Gent
- WHEN: Sunday 13 January 2019 – third concert as part of the Young Masters series. Three more concerts are scheduled this season: on 10 February (Sonoro Quartet), 31 March (Ignis Quartet) and 14 April (trumpet-piano duo).
- PHOTO: © Lighthouse Brussels | Johan Vanbecelaere
