I’m sure most lovers of chamber music would agree that there’s a distinct Beaux Arts Trio sound. To identify its characteristics, however, is no easy task. Apart from the enduring qualities of discipline and concentration one may detect hallmarks of tone, phrasing, a particular placing of rubato – but even these are by no means constant. And it’s interesting that this elusive sound seems to have survived two changes in personnel: in fact the only member of the group who has been with them the full 35 years is the pianist, Menahem Pressler. But all three players agree that his part is crucial. ‘I think I can speak for all of us,’ says Pressler, ‘when I say that the sound of a piano trio is determined to a very great extent by the piano. It’s a much more powerful instrument of course, and it creates a breadth of sound – with all the overtones and so on. I remember hearing a story about David Oistrakh giving a masterclass on a Mozart violin sonata. He said, ‘what happens when you put the violin on top of the piano? Fine! And what happens when you put the piano on top of the violin?’

A piano trio is indeed a delicate acoustic balancing act. Is this something the players have continually to bear in mind? ‘It’s something you do spontaneously,’ says cellist Peter Wiley, the youngest, and newest member of the group. ‘It comes down to unselfishness. You have to understand which of us is setting the sonority for the group at any given time, so that when the violin has the melody, we have to let him decide what level a crescendo will take or what kind of rubato to use. You can work on it, but what matters is what you do at the moment.’ ‘That’s so important’ – this is violinist Isadore Cohen: ‘Different pianos, different halls – whether or not you’ve got a reflecting surface close behind… These things can affect you so much. Your main concern should be knowledge of what you want to convey, and the desire for the ideal balance grows from that. If the desire is shared, it works.’ ‘I’m sure [MP] the Beaux Arts Trio wouldn’t have been in existence for 35 years if we hadn’t got to the heart of this problem. We’d be like so many other trios that come and go – mostly go – so there must be something we do right.’ ‘If you take three outstanding players [PW], but each one has an ego so strong that they won’t give up something of themselves to the next player, then you can never have good ensemble. It’s the same for all chamber music.’

Yes, I’m sure most readers will/can remember chamber recordings by groups of star soloists: the results are – shall we say variable. But is complete homogeneity desirable? ‘You don’t want a total blend [IC] –  everyone doing the same thing. You must have some distinction of voices. The perfect accord can lead to boredom. Dialogue is the essence. There are plenty of passages in the great trios where Menahem says something, then Peter, then me – same idea, same register – but what is obviously wanted is a sequence of individual shades of meaning. That’s the heart of it.’

As I said above, the characteristic Beaux Arts approach seems to have survived two major upheavals; the loss of the violinist Daniel Guilet and later of the cellist Bernard Greenhouse, both founder members of the group. Peter Wiley is very much the newcomer. Do Cohen and Pressler feel that the ensemble has undergone any audible changes since he joined? ‘He belongs,’ says Cohen. ‘But we feel that Peter has contributed his own ideas so that to our ears at least there are different things going on. There are so many decisions – why we make this ritardando here, why we change the tempo there. We’ve gotten so used to it – I in 20 years, Menahem in 35 – that we don’t think about it any more, and it takes someone new to come along and say ‘why are you doing that? –  ‘Also [MP] Peter is a man who takes chances. He’s a young man who plays with a young man’s spirit. He’s able to join us seamlessly, but it’s his daring I like most. It stops us becoming too over calculating.’

Amongst the recording projects of the new-form Beaux Arts Trio is a disc of chamber works by Fauré: the D minor Trio and the C minor Piano Quartet – the Second Quartet, in G minor, is to follow. ‘We did the Trio before Isadore joined [MP] – coupled with the Ravel. It’s a very beautiful piece – one of the last things he wrote. But to understand it you must make your way further into the world of Fauré. It’s not the approachable Fauré, like the First Piano Quartet or the A major Violin Sonata: this is so inward-looking, touching greater heights of sensitivity. When that lovely slow movement tune breaks through in the clearest F major you really feel deeply touched.’ ‘I admit [IC] that even the slow movement can be soporific if the performance isn’t right there.’

Many pianists complain of a certain awkwardness in Fauré’s piano writing – even Paul Crossley admits that it ‘doesn’t fall under the fingers’. And often in the chamber music it looks terribly repetitive –  similar figurations, sometimes for several pages at a time. ‘It’s not a problem in the First Piano Quartet, or the First Violin Sonata, but in the Trio – you do have to work at it.’ ‘The Piano Quartets are a different world [IC]. I don’t imagine anyone will have the problem with them that they might in the Trio. Perhaps the G minor isn’t so immediately accessible as No 1, but it’s a beautiful piece –  that slow movement! In the finale of the Trio there’s a tune which Leoncavallo must have heard…’ And led by Wiley, all three burst into song – a spirited performance, but banishing for good any suggestion that the Beaux Arts Trio might have chosen the wrong musical career.

Back to Beaux Arts Trio / Back to Hall of Fame