Steven Isserlis Returns to SFP

Stephen Isserlis with his instrument (photograph by Satoshi Aoyagi, courtesy of SFP)

Cellist Steven Isserlis is no stranger to San Francisco. Over the course of my writing, I have accounted for performances his has given for not only San Francisco Performances (SFP) but also the Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra and Chamber Music San Francisco. Last night I returned to Herbst Theatre to attend his most recent SFP appearance, accompanied at the piano, as in the past, by Connie Shih. The program was framed by eighteenth- and nineteenth-century compositions, Ludwig van Beethoven and Edvard Grieg, respectively. However, the intermission was flanked by two decidedly distinctive twentieth-century compositions, Bohuslav Martinů’s H. 277 (first) sonata for cello and piano and three collected pieces for the same duo by Nadia Boulanger.

For my part, that “core” made for a delightful journey of discovery. Like many, I have been aware of Boulanger for her reputation as a pedagogue, rather than a composer. However, there was nothing pedagogical about the short pieces that Isserlis played. The first two of them revealed a thoroughly engaging lyricism, while the last, given the tempo marking “Vite et nerveusement rythmé” was downright fun. (Isserlis is at his most enjoyable when he takes on compositions with the “fun” attribute.)

Martinů began his career as a violinist in the Czech Philharmonic. However, his desire to become a composer took him to Paris; and his need to escape Adolf Hitler took him to New York. American life was good to him, and he eventually became a citizen. He also found teaching positions at the Mannes College of Music, Princeton University, and the Berkshire Music School (during Tanglewood summers). The sonata that Isserlis played was composed in Paris in 1939, but its aggressive rhetoric reflects  what was happening during Hitler’s occupation of Czechoslovakia. Such approaches to composition are often dismissed as “agitprop,” but Martinů found just the right way to express his dispositions.

Where the sonatas are concerned, it would be fair to say that those familiar with Grieg but not with the sonata would have felt right at home with his tropes. There was no mistaking the rhetoric, but the sonata still had an originality of its own. Most important is that the overall disposition was one of affability. This tends to be Isserlis’ “sweet spot” in his repertoire selections, and it made for an engaging farewell to the audience as the final selection.

At the other end of the time-line, so to speak, beginning with the second of the Opus 5 Beethoven sonatas was definitely the right way to seize attention. One consistently needs to be reminded that the younger Beethoven had no trouble relishing playful rhetoric; and, even though the key was G minor, the play could not have been more engaging. Nevertheless, I must confess to a personal bias for listening to music like this played on instruments appropriate for the period. That said, however, Isserlis still delivered a convincing account of the composer’s light tough and high spirits.

Taken as a whole, the program was very much a journey worth taking. The encore was a brief “Romance” by Camille Saint-Saëns. This made for a somewhat more “optimistic” disposition than had emerged from Grieg’s minor-key rhetoric, so it served the overall program well. It is always good to leave the audience with positive spirits!