|
Back
07/16/2026 “Folklore”
Manuel de Falla: Suite Populaire espagnole, G. 40 (adapt. Paul Kochanski; trans. Maurice Maréchal)
Béla Bartók: Romanian Folk Dances, Sz. 56
Sulkhan Tsintsadze: 5 Pieces on Georgian Folk Themes
Nadia Boulanger: 3 Pièces pour violoncelle et piano
Robert Schumann: 5 Stücke im Volkston, opus 102
Pablo de Sarasate: Zigeunerweisen, opus 20
Gabriel Fauré: Trois mélodies, opus 7: 1. “Après un rêve” – Sicilienne, opus 78 Christoph Croisé (cello), Ana Bakradze (piano)
Recording: Alte Kirche, Boswil, Switzerland (December 16‑17, 2024) – 73’45
Avie Records AV2837 – Booklet in English, German and French


Nestled at the base of the Bünztal Valley and a tidy drive from Zurich, lies the bucolic community of Boswil, Switzerland. Quietly perched above the hamlet’s confines, we’re introduced to the “Old Church”: a staid, white‑washed edifice, surrounded by high stone walls. Quite the unlikely place for a CD to originate? Hardly, since this intimate venue lends itself to perfectionism for cellist Christoph Croisé and pianist Ana Bakradze. Here’s a locale which houses a select grouping of classical connections, and, in this case, the understated foundation to create an album with a thematic, folkloric origin. Despite the variant “shadings” of folk tunes derived from select countries in Europe and Western Asia, the demeanor is wrapped inside a reverent glow: soft, revealing, sensitive and dimensional.
Interviewer, Jessica Duchen, poses chosen questions to the profiled musicians in this album. What surfaces is an undisputed thrust centering around “joy” and a “lasting pleasure of connecting”. After one listen, one can attest to these sentiments. “Folklore” is an unbounded realm, forming distinctly anthropological beliefs: its values, its perpetual communal cohesion yet separated by variant discoveries, dependent upon the composer at hand. This carefully-chosen programme has a broadened outreach with music somewhat familiar and others a skosh novel. The resultant has an interesting musical “brace” of attentive detail.
Turning to the opening Suite populaire espagnole, M.
Croisé’s expressions within the six selections surface with amazing dimension. The music emotes the instrument’s dimensional qualities of humane testament. De
Falla’s compositions are neatly “stitched together” with arresting display. Listeners will be drawn in by the alluring “pull” of this music. The “Asturiana” yields distant reminisces to chording from Chabrier’s Espana (and continuing into the ensuing “Jota”), yet the cello’s earthy melody line creates its own path of regional surveillances. Both freshly light and a tad raw.
A musical shift transitions from Iberia to the more severely-rooted and zesty vestiges of Romanian culture. Bartók’s selections have a distant “crispness” which will hold firm to the listener. Vibrantly fleeting. Fabulous.
Moving further East, geographically-speaking, we encounter a more severely grounded pensée, represented in the music by Sulkhan Tsintsadze. M.
Croisé carefully presents some unusual musical techniques and edges which open up new channels of Middle‑Asian élan. Each of the five tunes hang together in great fascination with the cello possessing the predominant dialogue. The visit is exceptionally intriguing and magically effusive with its own weight.
Hark back to Western Europe, we turn to somber fluidity of music by Nadia Boulanger and its cadre of distant uncertainties. In a bit of contrast in earlier selections, Mlle
Bakradze’s keys play a stronger role in developing the storyline amidst questioning ambiguities. The three movements re‑emphasize the serious dimensions throughout, and the pliability by the pianist is fluidic and genuine to the core.
Interestingly, the 5 Stücke im Volkston (Five Pieces in Folk Style) is the only work Robert Schumann published for cello and piano. Each of the five movements yield strong emotional characteristics; this compartment is a strong example of how strings and keyboard support the “folksong” notion with an amiable unveiling of Romantic charm.
Both of Gabriel Fauré’s compositions are refreshingly forward and brisk. Originally composed for a chamber‑sized orchestra as incidental music to Maurice Maeterlinck’s Pelléas et Mélisande, Fauré quickly re‑created the “Sicilienne” for cello and piano. Often played with excessive longueur, this display is tightly-controlled: buoyant and tempered from over‑wrought wistfulness. The same can be said with the previous Après un rêve which firmly holds on to its own dignified ambition without cascading into a slumbering draw. The mood within each (of Fauré’s) is exceptionally exhilarating.
Pablo de Sarasate’s Zigeunerweisen has some fascinating dynamics because the Spanish composer originally wrote this piece for violin and orchestra. From this reviewer’s perspective, it took several listens to connect with this new “slice” since the accents are a bit distant, but it soon becomes addictively inviting and distinct. Due to the size of the cello, many of the sizzling string techniques are more challenging to master, yet M.
Croisé masterfully manages the difficulties with great finesse. While these tones are engraved in a deeper alcove, the vision is electrifying.
Both Croisé and Bakradze are on the same azimuth when executing “Folklore”: it brilliantly exemplifies a musical storyline that flutters through a calico patchwork of cultures. This recording is well‑executed and a delight to the ear.
Christie Grimstad
|