Schubert’s Sonata D 821 is often referred to as the “Arpeggione” after the strange bowed six-stringed instrument for which it was written. He was the only major composer who dared write music for this hybrid device, which in fact was destined for oblivion. Schubert wrote the gracious Sonatain 1824. In its doleful key of A minor, it was nevertheless transcribed in various versions. The opening Allegro moderato is ample, with moments of melancholy; then comes a joyfully spontaneous Adagio, already hinting at Brahms, its singing lyrism like a Lied for instruments. The mood of the Rondò is serene, with folksy touches.
Debussy, seriously ill with cancer, never managed to complete his planned Six Sonatas for different instruments, and in fact finished only three. The cello piece launched the cycle in 1915. Like a spiritual testament, it starts with a concise Prologue, with solemn, smoky beauty; then comes the Sérénade, a short pensive slow section, despite its name. The Finale offers fascinating timbres, but the mood is dark and foreboding, despite the melody and lively rhythm.
The Catalan composer Granados was also cheated of life. With his wife Amparo he was sailing back from the States where his opera Goyescas, based on the piano series inspired by Goya, had met with great success. In the English Channel a German submarine hit the ship, and Granados drowned while trying to save his wife. The exceptional transcription of this masterpiece that Mischa Maisky has selected to open the second part of the concert, followed by a few delightful pages, was by Gaspar Cassadò, from Barcelona. He was an excellent cello player himself, and as a composer was attracted by the charms of folk music, while Pablo de Sarasate was an extraordinarily gifted violinist. Granados and Isaac Albéniz, who was the same age, were the two best-known Spanish composers from the period between 1800 and 1900, so it is clear why Maisky has paired them off, re-working the originals.
As an invitation to the night there’s nothing better than De Falla’s seductive Dança ritual del fuego from El Amor Brujo. It evokes billowing red clouds at sunset, then the mystery of nighttime, its hypnotic quiet, cantabile lullabies and phosphorescent flashes. Piatigorsky’s superb transcription amply compensates the varied timbres of the gypsy ballet.

Attilio Piovano