Hilary Hahn and the virtues of restraint

When the Seattle Chamber Music Festival presented a 2007 concert featuring the first Violin and Piano Sonata by Charles Ives, the audience delighted in the lively and humorous performance by Scott St. John and Jeremy Denk. My Crosscut review noted how well the Ives piece had been received, and expressed the hope that Seattle listeners would someday have an opportunity to attend a performance of Ives’ other three Violin and Piano Sonatas.

Hilary Hahn did indeed play three Ives Violin sonatas — the first, second and fourth — in last week's Benaroya Hall recital, part of the Distinguished Artists series put on by the Seattle Symphony. It would be nice to think that she did so in response to my Crosscut wish, but the truth is that she had given this program already in Japan, and will be giving it on numerous occasions elsewhere in the USA during the next month or so.

Along with the three Ives sonatas, Hahn played two unaccompanied sonatas by the Belgian violin virtuoso and composer Eugene Ysaye; and with her accompanist Valentina Lisitsa, performed a selection of Brahms Hungarian Dances in the violin and piano arrangements by Joachim; and Bartok’s Romanian Dances. There were no sonatas from the mainstream violin recital repertory — no unaccompanied Bach, and no violin and piano sonatas by Mozart, Beethoven or Brahms.

The capacity audience which turned out to hear her play this unusual program speaks eloquently for the standing that this young American violinist has acquired in recent years.

The unifying theme of the program was the influence of folk dance and song — obvious enough in the Brahms and Bartok items, but evident also in the quirky and innocent Ives sonatas so redolent of community hymns and camp songs. The theme came through even in the Ysaye sonatas, particularly in the extremely demanding sixth sonata which is based on Spanish dances.

This type of repertory often brings out the extrovert in performers — flashing eyes, facial gesturing to "communicate" with the audience, much swooping and swooning. Hahn’s way is different. She has a focused, sober presence on the platform. Her technique combines well-nigh faultless intonation with a warm but controlled tone and a complete absence of excessive extroversion and over-projection.

To hear this repertory delivered in such a sophisticated and reticent style is intriguing. In the Brahms Hungarian Dances, for example, Hahn displayed an impressively inward and nuanced sense of line and rhythm; the relatively restrained and introverted Dance No 11 in D minor came across more strongly than the popular and foot-stamping G minor Dance, which is fifth in the set. There may have been an absence of Gypsy ferocity in the Brahms or humor in the Ives pieces, but these thoughtful and respectful performances created their own resonance. At the piano — a fine mellow-toned Bosendorfer instead of the usual Steinway — Valentina Lisitsa showed great interpretative sympathy and technical skill, not least in the demanding Brahms accompaniments.

Hahn's website, with its winsome journal, traces her very full life. She introduces herself this way:

If you're curious to find out what it's like to be a nomadic classical musician, a violinist, a 28-year-old, a modern instrumental troubadour, or just a woman looking at the world around her, you've come to the right place.

Hahn's recent repertory has also included the rarely performed but fascinating Violin Concerto by Arnold Schoenberg, and the world premiere of a concerto written for her by the New York composer Jennifer Higdon. Given how well it went the last time a wish was expressed here, one can only add: It would be a great pleasure to hear one, or even both of these works, when she next performs with the Seattle Symphony.