Daniil Shafran is one of the century’s most fiercely individualistic instrumentalists, a formidable technician whose recital appearances (rare though they are) attract hordes of fellow-cellists and whose luscious, idiosyncratic tone has given rise to much critical controversy. Nowadays Shafran’s playing, although still unmistakable in style and personality, tends to stray rather too far from the note’s centre; and yet in his prime, he frequently ravished the ear. Shafran’s discography – most of which has never appeared in this country – includes a remarkable though somewhat unorthodox set of Bach cello suites, Tchaikovsky’s Rococo Variations (under Kyrill Kondrashin), a studio version of the Shostakovich Sonata (again with the composer at the piano) and various short pieces. Some commentators cite his seamless bowing, sensual tone, dynamic inflexions and lightning virtuosity as representative of the Russian cello tradition at its greatest and, indeed, there can be no doubt whatsoever that this recording of Shostakovich’s Cello Sonata is among the finest ever made. Quite aside from Shafran’s smoky, stylized handling of the first movement’s second set (2'19'') and muscular account of the second movement, there’s the sheer wit that he brings to the finale, the way he points its principal theme, with soaring bursts of tone a little later on (at 1'15''). Shostakovich’s dry though frequently brilliant pianism provides the perfect foil to Shafran’s tonally effulgent solo line.
On the face of it, one might reasonably expect the more romantic Rachmaninov Sonata to suit Shafran even better, and yet here I can imagine that some listeners will find the tone overprojected, the vibrato distracting (Shafran has a habit of edging from ‘no vibrato’ to ‘lots of vibrato’ on a single note), the slides excessive (try 11'18'' into the first movement) and the entire performance, taken as a whole, too gushing by far. And yet others will relish the very crooning elements that some find distasteful. Shafran’s limpid handling of the first movement’s second set (2'47'') is extraordinarily seductive and the sheer power of his playing, pretty compelling. Yakov Flier offers Shafran strong support, though occasionally I craved a little more detail in the left hand (always crucial in Rachmaninov).
Cello buffs are advised to snap up this valuable CD without delay. Shafran’s playing has immense charisma and while it’s unlikely that his mannered approach to phrasing and tone-projection will please everyone, his musical personality demands to be heard. As to the sound, Telstar have filtered away any semblance of surface noise/hiss and in so doing have compromised the recordings’ natural acoustic. However, the results remain fairly palatable, with a vivid solo image and a rather synthetic piano tone. I’ve certainly heard worse.'