Ernest Chausson, 1855-1899
Piano Trio in G minor, Op. 3, 1881
If you are interested in exploring the canon of French chamber music, you might pursue a tempting chronological thread by cherry-picking one composer per decade revealing this sequence: Franck, Saint-Saëns, Fauré, Chausson, Debussy and Ravel. Even if you restricted yourself to piano trios, you would have a goldmine. Of these names, Chausson is easily the most obscure. He died young at the age of 44 (from a bicycling accident) and he left a relatively small oeuvre comprising an opera, a symphony, some songs and a clutch of chamber works, of which his most well known is the Concert for violin, piano and string quartet. Composed in 1881 when Chausson was 26, this "youthful" piano trio is a hidden treasure of great beauty and significant craft. Representing a renaissance of distinctively French chamber music launched by Chausson and his compatriots in the late 19th century, the trio offers a fresh perspective on music otherwise dominated by German romanticism and French opera.
Chausson studied with Jules Massenet and César Franck at the Paris Conservatoire and his trio clearly reveals elements of both composers, especially Franck. But during these same years, Chausson traveled to Munich to drink from the cup of Wagner and became, like many of his French fellow composers, including a young Debussy, intoxicated. At this stage in his career, Chausson's music might well be described as a late romantic admixture of Wagner and Franck, tempered by a characteristic French clarity, vitality and love of sonority. Chausson's later chamber music only emphasizes this unique blend pushing further into the extremes of late romantic unresolved chromatic splendor.
The four-movement work opens with a somber introduction pregnant with significant motives that recur in the third and fourth movements, creating a "cyclic" work in the manner of Franck. An animated sonata follows that reveals Chausson's familiarity with Mendelssohn, Schumann and Brahms but tinged with a new language of cool, widely modulating harmonies. Throughout the trio, the rich and virtuosic piano writing is essential to the texture and the rhythmic drive while maintaining an active role in the thematic dialog.
The short scherzo movement likewise begins with an atmospheric introduction that soon gives way to a lively "seafaring" tune that magically invokes both Wagner and, even more so, Dvořák. Less of a scherzo and trio, it is a sparkling intermezzo with a highly blended set of contrasting themes with full color and warm lyricism.
The slow movement is a languorous poem, sinuous, chromatic and unresolved over long strands of modulation, like the suspended dreams of both Chopin and Wagner. The main theme is a slowed-down version of a principle motive from the opening measures of the trio that will appear once again at the conclusion of the piece as a somber framing device. The mood here is too complex to describe. It is, by turns, melancholy and rapturous, introspective and yearning. It ends in a sigh of great repose.
This genial "populist" character of the scherzo is resumed in the charming finale, an elegant waltz with a bubbling lilt. A dancing rondo in a major key, it nearly dispels the notion of a minor ruling key that was so strong in the first and third movements. Yet, classically speaking, in this context, all good things tend to come to an end. First, a recall of the slow movement's floating modulations destabilizes the waltz. Huge dramatic swells interject a hyper-romantic excitation and the dance, more delirious, suddenly gives way to the alarming chromatic descent of the opening theme, a return to the dark elegiac nature where the trio began and will, most definitely, end.