One of the most delightful, and at the same time frustrating things about Martinu is his exceptional fecundity; delightful because it assured a steady stream of richly inventive music; frustrating because it almost invariably drove him on to create afresh when he could have been bringing newly completed works to perfection. Still, the paradox remains: despite his frequent reliance on a handful of favourite devices, Martinu's works are rarely predictable, and often strikingly varied in character.
That's certainly the case with the three cello sonatas. All the familiar stylistic traits are here—dancing syncopated tunes, sudden bitonal frissons in otherwise simple diatonic contexts, enriched plagal cadences (if only he'd been a little less prodigal with that one!)—but each piece has its own completely individual sound-world. The First is stern and hard-edged, the Second warmer, subtler and at times mysteriously beautiful; the Third calmly positive—it adds up to a very enjoyable disc, especially so when performed with such assurance and conviction. Josef Chuchro will be better known to British readers as the cellist of the admirable Suk Trio. Martinu's three sonatas have been in his repertoire since the early 1960s, but nothing in his playing hints at over-familiarity: confidence is matched with freshness and each performance communicates strong feeling. Perhaps he could have made more of the gorgeous tenor-register cantilena that forms the central movement of the Second Sonata, though there's no denying the effectiveness of Chuchro's restraint here. Accompanist Josef Hala steers a clear course between over-projection and self-effacement, supporting Chuchro tactfully where required, yet establishing a firm presence in Martinu's more sonorous piano textures.
Balance between cello and piano is on the whole very well calculated, and though this has meant bringing the cello very close, the sound is surprisingly free from 'performer ambience'—grunts, sighs, creaking seats and the like.'