Ilona Then-Bergh - Delvincourt: Violin and Piano Works (2013)

This brilliantly performed program by violinist Ilona Then-Bergh and pianist Michael Schafer, an adventurous German duo who have already explored repertoirial byways such as sonatas by the Russian Jews Grigorij Krein and Samuel Feinberg and the proto-Impressionist Silvio Lazzari for this label, highlights Delvinourt’s formally unconventional, harmonically complex, and emotionally unstable chamber music. This four-movement and nearly half-hour Violin Sonata of 1923 is surely one of the most impressive and masterful of its kind in the French repertoire, on the same exalted level as the Debussy and Ravel. The descriptive adjectives quoted in the booklet (whether taken from the score itself or imagined by the German annotator is not quite clear) give a graphic indication of the music’s close-to-symphonic scale and range of expressive feeling and sophistication: “severe, gentle, anarchic, exotic, torn, complicated, wild, exhausted,” followed by the French phrase “la confession d’un enfant du siècle”—all of this quite a testimony to the power and persuasiveness of the writing. Incidentally, there was once a prehistoric LP of this Sonata on the legendary Club Français du Disque label (together with an exciting String Quartet), but for all practical purposes this can be considered the premiere modern recording of the work.

After this thrilling Sonata, pianist Schafer gives us the 1926 Boccacerie, a hair-raisingly virtuosic set of five rather brief pieces inspired by characters from the iconic Renaissance proto-novel. In addition to a generically Hispanic ambience (also noticeable in the Sonata), these potent and incisive portraits display all the traits listed in the booklet, saving this reviewer any additional adjectival effort: “cheeky, carefree, droll, ruthless, joyful, coarse, cocky.”

Next, violinist Then-Bergh returns to join Schafer in the five-movement Danceries of 1935, whose five movement headings (Ronde, Bourrée, Basquaise, Louisiane, Farandole) indicate that by the 1930s Delvincourt had undergone a bit of jazz influence similar to what is sometimes heard in the music of Poulenc and Françaix, but with a much more prominent admixture of kaleidoscopic acidity. The program ends with a lovely Lied-like four-minute Contemplation, which puts a somewhat sad and subdued end to what is mostly a vivid and knotty romp of a recital.

Although this disc showcases Delvincourt’s demanding chamber music, he was also a master of the large-scale orchestra palette. This listener has heard a gigantic oratorio— Lucifer —as well as a sumptuous ballet, Bal Vénitien. Once on shellac there was a very engaging Radio-Serenade. But awaiting their disc debuts are such mouth-watering titles as Offrande à Siva, Pamir, Ce monde de rosée, etc.

If the Gallic muse is to your taste, you cannot afford to pass up this musical feast. Parenthetically, let me mention a somewhat related pairing of two rhapsodically beautiful 1920s violin sonatas by Louis Gruenberg and Wilhelm Grosz on the Telos label. It’s a knockout, as is this Delvincourt release.