An analysis of what musicians call 'interpretation' could doubtless fill many dull pages. Susan Tomes' approach is quite the opposite of dull. By keeping a diary of a year in her life as a performer, incorporating memories of earlier experiences, she opens a window on her life, recording events and impressions that caused her to think afresh about some aspect or other of musical performance or interpretation. Whether questioning the meaning of 'artistic temperament', the relevance of music in today's society or the validity of making recordings, Tomes invariably has something interesting and thought-provoking to say. The scary effect of hospital visiting on her mind, a comparison of communication by Bluetooth and through music, singing in caves - the range of her musing is wide, disclosing negatives as well as positives. Towards the end, she frets about a recording her trio, the Florestan Trio, is about to make; she has been rather dreading it because she knows it will be physically very demanding. 'We've chosen three Czech pieces by Smetana, Martinu; and the contemporary composer Petr Eben. All are virtuosic, particularly the Smetana which is highly emotional as well as grand and theatrical, with a flamboyant piano part.' I'm happy to confirm that the worrying was needless; this recording, which has just been issued, is as stunning in its execution as it is intelligent in its compilation. The development of the Czech school of composition can be traced through these composers, writing in 1855, 1930 and 1986. Smetana fashions a substantial and intensely powerful work, clearly influenced by Schumann and Liszt as well as Czech folk music; the third movement is a ferocious tarantella interleaved with episodes of a deply nostalgic character. The 'Cinq pieces breve' that make up Martinu's Piano Trio no. 1 are neoclassical in style (think Stravinsky), built from small cells, rhythmically very sharply etched; in the booklet, Robert Philip aptly refers to Martinu's creation of 'a musical language which functions like a sort of cubist reconstruction of baroque techniques'. The Adagio second movement is especially beautiful, an intense duet between cello and violin to which the piano responds calmly. The Eben is essentially a cycle for string duo and piano, the strings frequently pitted against the piano or (as in the second movement) being treated as a single, merged instrument of great range. The striking Lento third movement features a delicate waltz for the strings superimposed on a hypnotic funeral march for the piano, together building a beatifully-judged dynamic arc. The work ends with a fiery Agitato movement, the music's jazzy rhythmic verve harking back to Martinu's style. Stimulating and superb.
Reviewed by Anne McAlister