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olfgang and Nannerl amazed as prodigies of interpretation during childhood, when musical practice was among their favorite games. The composer's work has transcended, but not so much the talents of his sister, an excellent pianist, with whom he was often associated. Whether playing four-handed, as evidenced by a portrait of the complete family (the siblings sharing a keyboard, the father standing, and the deceased mother in the painting hanging on the wall), or Wolfgang wielding the violin, an instrument he handled more than satisfactorily. The conjunction of such disparate instruments finds precisely in Mozart's work a new treatment, insofar as it balances the prominence of both, giving rise to the characteristic dialogues, so celebrated in his work.
The presence of the Khachatryan siblings -Sergey and Lusine- at the Palau de la Música inevitably reminds us of that happy conjunction, of the fruitful and familiar complicity that gave rise to memorable compositions, such as the Sonata for Two Pianos in C major, Kv 448 or the Concerto for Two Pianos, composed with Nannerl in mind. If we think of the duo formed by piano and violin, undoubtedly one of Wolfgang A. Mozart's most interesting chamber pieces is precisely the one chosen to open the Khachatryan siblings' program, the Sonata in B-flat major, Kv 454. The Salzburg composer, known above all for his concertante, symphonic, and operatic production, demonstrates that same creativity in a reduced format. Although the resources are fewer, in instrumental terms, the protagonists relate thanks to an apparently inexhaustible array of resources: dialogues with contrasted registers, mirror effects, or the enunciation of a theme with classical development, despite its striking expressiveness, and the pertinent and very pleasant surprises it incorporates.
All of this we find in the Mozartean creation interpreted from the beginning, in addition to an ecstatic moment, which is an authentic and unexpected gift: a dreamy phrase emerges within the slow movement, the Andante, an enunciation of unheard-of delicacy that rises and that, in some way, seems to anticipate some of the most celebrated passages of the piece programmed for the end of the recital, César Franck's evocative Sonata. Mozartean spontaneity seems timeless even if it incorporates epochal elements, and the interpreters on this occasion, Sergey and Lusine Khachatryan, are attentive to the score's indications. The violin is of a precision rare or unusual in its tuning, without ceasing to be extremely communicative and close, while the pianist is not at all content with her accompanying role, she makes the instrument sound with great personality, interpreting - and not merely reading - the text she unfolds, in dialogue with the string instrument.
The excellent technique of the interpreters, as well as their fidelity to the spirit of the composers - both qualities evident already in the Mozart version - would be put to the test in a colorful and dynamic composition by Sergey Prokofiev, the Sonata for Violin and Piano No. 2, in D major, Op. 94. A demanding work, which navigates between self-conscious and untimely classicism - neoclassicism, it is understood - and the boldest experimentation, with rhythms drawn from popular heritage. The most substantial piece of the evening, however, was yet to come. After the intermission, already in the second part of the recital, the large audience that came to the Palau de la Música Catalana was able to enjoy a convincing version of the Sonata for Violin and Piano in A major, by the Belgian composer César Franck.
A renowned organist in his time, whose Wagnerian ancestry is often remembered, Franck did not leave many works to posterity. But, undoubtedly, those that have reached us are of remarkable scope and quality, characterized by their organic nature and a post-romantic expressiveness, with an unmistakable fin-de-siècle flavor. We think above all of the Symphony in D minor, the Piano Quintet, or the hypnotic Prelude, Chorale and Fugue, composed for keyboard. The programmed chamber piece maintains the cyclical character of those, with more or less explicit thematic relationships in its different movements. Readers of Proust, specifically of the story Un amour de Swann, may perhaps identify in it Vinteuil's (fictional composer) little phrase that seals the protagonist's love with Odette de Crecy. The evocative power of the melody of the third movement, in the Fantasia: ben moderato passage, suggests that this may indeed be the reference that inspired the author of the Recherche in his first volume.
The complicity of Sergey and Lusine Khachatryan was unquestionably manifested in a work that, as in the case of Beethoven's 'Kreutzer' Sonata, seems imbued with an aura of mystery and fury, which literature has sometimes expressed in erotic terms (Tolstoy was inspired by this second in his passionate story Kreutzer Sonata). Both are paired in a highly recommended recording, made by Martha Argerich and Itzakh Perlan. Undoubtedly, it is one of the best modern versions, which also enjoys the spontaneity of a live performance. The degree of mutual understanding on the part of these consecrated interpreters is comparable to that evidenced by the Khachatryans. To the clear satisfaction of the audience, they offered two encores. First, a rhythmically agitated and virtuosic version of Aram Khachaturian's "Sabre Dance," a composer of Armenian origin like the musicians themselves (with an obviously coincidental surname, even if the kinship has not been accredited).
And, already in perfect Spanish, the violinist announced the last piece to be performed: a lullaby by Manuel de Falla, dedicated to the coming offspring. The family of musicians and music lovers grows, thanks to performances like the one experienced in the Palau; thus, once again, the intimate understanding - complicity and love - proves fruitful through aesthetic experiences that leave a mark.