Jason Victor Serinus

How to encompass the myriad delights in Mozart's multiple Sonatas for Violin and Fortepiano? Judging from the three chosen by baroque violinist Isabelle Faust and period instrument/modern music keyboard specialist Alexander Melnikov for their November 23 release, Mozart Sonatas for Violin and Fortepiano, Vol.1 (Harmonia Mundi 902360), we will be fortunate enough to struggle with that question for some time to come.

It's one thing to hear Mozart's sonatas performed on modern instruments. Arkivmusic.com, for example, lists 53 recordings for one of the three sonatas in Faust and Melnikov's Vol.1, the Sonata for Violin and Piano in A, K526, and most of the recordings feature modern instruments. Only a relative few—Rachel Podger and Gary Cooper, Thomas Albertus Irnberger and Paul Badura-Skoda, Jean-François Rivest and David Breitman, and Sigiswald Kuijken and Luc Devos among them—attempt to recreate the sound of gut-stringed, baroque violin and fortepiano that Mozart was familiar with.

The ability to hear that sound without compromise is one of the best arguments I can think of for investing in the highest quality components you can afford without risking eviction, foreclosure, bankruptcy, or a severed relationship. When I listen on an extremely resolving desktop/small room system—Macbook Pro streaming Tidal via either Audirvana or Amarra–>Nordost Odin and Odin 2–>Dynaudio Focus 200 XD powered loudspeakers abetted by a Nordost QKore and QB8—I certainly hear the tangy, piquant sounds of Faust's gut-stringed Stradivarius and Melnikov's modern (Kern) replica of a 1795 Walter fortepiano. But it's only when I turn to my reference system—NUC with Roon–>dCS Network Bridge–>EMM Labs DV2 DAC (here for review)–>D'Agostino Progression monoblocks–>Wilson Alexia 2 plus all of the above and a PS Audio P15 Power Plant—that I can hear the virtual symphony of undertones and overtones that make the sound of these extremely colorful period instruments so enticing.

Auditioned in 24/96, the recording is a feast for the senses, or at least those senses that prefer tang and spice with their sweetness. The Sonata in D K306—part of a group of six sonatas that Mozart completed in 1778, the year in which he turned 22—gallops out the gate, whizzing by as it dusts everything in its path with joy. Once you get over how fast Melnikov is playing, and how much delight both musicians take in every trail of notes as they dash up, down, and all over the place, you can begin to contemplate the inventiveness and subtle shifts that make these sonatas so interesting.

Written before it, also in Paris, the two-movement Sonata No.4 in e, K304, spends much of its time dwelling in the minor. Although I could do without every single variation and repetition in its opening Allegro's 10:02, it's clear that Mozart was having a ball seeing how much he could do with his material. The work is certainly different than Mozart's five other sonatas for violin and fortepiano from the same period, and breaks a lot of "rules" as Mozart lets his imagination lead him into unexplored territory.

Mozart composed his final Sonata in A for Violin and Fortepiano K526 in 1787, at the same time he was finishing Don Giovanni. Proof can be found in the final Presto, which borrows a bit of melody from Don Giovanni's "zipping right along, now you hear it / now you don't" Champagne Aria ("Fin ch'han dal vino"). But you won't care about proof when you hear this sonata's more mature approach to joy—a joy tempered with the wisdom born of challenge and struggle. For Mozart lovers, this recording is indispensable.