Carolin Widmann
L’Aurore

Carolin Widmann violin
Recorded July 2021
Auditorio Stelio Molo RSI, Lugano
Engineer: Markus Heiland
Cover photo: Wilfried Hösl
Produced by Manfred Eicher
Release date: June 17, 2022

Although L’Aurore represents violinist Carolin Widmann’s seventh ECM appearance, this is her first solo program for the label, making it the culmination of the many potent strands she has woven to get here. Hearing her breathe through the Spiritus sanctus vivificans vita of Hildegard von Bingen (1098-1179), which opens the program with fundamental monophony, is equivalent to the feeling of recovering from a long illness, taking in mundane details with renewed appreciation. The angular vigor of the Fantaisie concertante by George Enescu (1881-1955) that follows reminds us further of the need to absorb as much of our surroundings as possible if we are to give back more to the world than it has given us. Widmann’s ability to bring verve to the most leaping gestures and quietest rasping of the bow ensconces the motivations of this rarely performed treasure she calls a “sweeping melisma” of improvisational qualities. Contrasts of pulchritude and decay leave us marveling over a gray area where no single impression overwhelms another. Any keen listeners drawing a line from here to the work of Eugène Ysaÿe (1858-1931) are rewarded by his Sonata No. 5 in G major, op. 27, the first movement of which yields this album’s title. Its multivalence drips from Widmann’s fingers like rain from leaves after a storm, her double stops leaving trails of light as she works her way toward the “Danse rustique.” Here, the mood is somehow airier, despite the denser textures and grounded form, though at no expense of emotional savor. Between these giants are the no-less-powerful Three Miniatures of George Benjamin (b. 1960). With an economy of expression that makes every note count, each tells its dedicatory story in lucid terms. In doing so, what otherwise might seem like fleeting shifts in more florid writing take on a stark significance. The central piece, in particular, stirs the soul with its elasticity.

After revisiting Hildegard’s antiphon, Widmann takes us on a journey through the Partita No. 2 in D minor of J. S. Bach (1685-1750), a piece she felt prepared at long last to present in the studio. And while it concludes the disc, it feels more like a renewal. The minutiae of her caring spirit are immediately apparent in the caressing Allemanda, from which a personal ethos of direct communication shines in welcome. Over the next three movements, she turns the mirror to capture flashes of light, fragments of dreams, and memories of better times. All’s well that ends well in the epic Ciaccona, which for Widmann is “an epitome of life” (as is Hildegard, she is quick to add). Without apparent force yet with total conviction, she renders its details with the control required to wield a feather quill. Every mark confirms the need for ink and paper, without which these leaves of the human spirit might fall from the trees of history, leaving its forest bereft of fruit.