Kalichstein-Laredo-Robinson Trio at the Perelman

The recital by the Kalichstein-Laredo-Robinson Trio (no fancy names here, just the principals' law-firm boilerplate) was one I'd circled on my calendar for its unusual and intriguing program: a trio with clarinet (Beethoven's jaunty Op. 11), another with horn (the great Brahms, Op. 40) and a third with piano (Tchaikovsky's Op. 50). The subtleties and balances of a trio are not those of a quartet, and a trio can do things with a "guest" instrument that aren't possible in a smaller or larger setting. So I looked forward, not only to three fine and not too frequently played works, but also to a master class in color and sonority.

It didn't turn out that way. The advertised hornist, Radovan Vlatkovic, was apparently unavailable, nor was another whose name was announced as indisposed, and so Mendelssohn's Piano Trio #2 was inserted in place of Brahms. Whether another hornist could have been found and rehearsed I cannot say, but there was time enough not only to list the program substitution but also to print notes for the Mendelssohn on an insert sheet. An apology was issued from the stage, which the audience— a full house— took in good part.

This listener, however, was disappointed, and no offense to Mendelssohn. When you go to a baseball game, there's no guarantee of the lineup card, and your favorite slugger may well be resting on the bench that day. But a concert recital is another matter— and however valid the reason for a given program substitution, it occurs too frequently in my experience, and often too casually.

Beethoven in his salad days

Beethoven himself wrote an alternate version of his unusual three-movement trio for clarinet, piano and cello, with a violin replacing the clarinet. In its original form, this trio exploits the lower registers delightfully, with a typically vigorous and pushy theme in the first movement, a lovely one for cello in the adagio, and a set of ingenious variations on a popular opera aria by Joseph Weigl in the finale. The world was still Beethoven's oyster when he composed this work in 1798, and it exudes the feel of a heady genius making his way, enjoying his talent and not yet taking himself too seriously.

Ricardo Morales dispatched the clarinet role nimbly, Joseph Kalichstein sparkled at the piano, and cellist Sharon Robinson produced a tone that was sweet and songful but robust enough when needed.

Mendelssohn's youthful maturity

Mendelssohn's Second Trio is a late work— he was all of 36— and it possesses the weight and density of his mature compositional technique, although with a fleet scherzo such as only he could write. Violinist Jaime Laredo recovered after a false start. He still plays dexterously, but at this point in his career his tone is a bit thin.

Tchaikovsky's Piano Trio is a monster, going on for the better part of an hour, but distinguished by what is perhaps the noblest theme he ever wrote. This theme receives a good workout in the opening movement, and, in the fashion of the period, is brought back to conclude the work. Tchaikovsky wrote the piece as a memorial to his friend, the celebrated pianist Nikolai Rubinstein, and the prominence of the piano is an appropriate homage.

An odd relationship

The form of the trio was partly dictated by the importuning of Tchaikovsky's patron, Nadezhda von Meck, who had a trio in residence, with a teenaged pianist named Claude Debussy. It's intriguing to think of Debussy performing this work, so different (not to say alien) from his Gallic temperament. It occupies a distinctive place in Tchaikovsky's mid-period output, and was clearly a model for Rachmaninoff's Trio elegiaque as well as the Shostakovich Second Piano Trio, likewise written to commemorate the untimely death of a friend.

The performance was going well when SEPTA's unrelenting schedule obliged me to leave. I hope to catch a performance of the Brahms soon.