Recording of the Week, Patricia Kopatchinskaja and Polina Leschenko perform music by Poulenc, Bartók, and Ravel

One of the most distinctive voices in the violin world at the moment is surely that of Patricia Kopatchinskaja, whose previous recordings of works such as Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto have undoubtedly offered a unique take on familiar pieces. For her latest recording of music by Poulenc, Bartók and Ravel she is joined by pianist Polina Leschenko.

The disc is titled Deux, and on listening to the Poulenc Sonata with which it opens, I was immediately struck by how appropriate a title that is: there’s an overwhelming feeling of partnership and joy at the shared act of music-making between the two of them that makes listening to them a sheer pleasure. There’s never a sense of “violin plus accompaniment”, but of two equal voices. Part of is written into the music, of course, with Poulenc often giving instructions to the violinist such as en accompagnent and suivre le piano, but Kopatchinskaja is never less than generous when it comes to allowing Leschenko to come to the fore where appropriate.

They catch the shifting moods of the Poulenc beautifully, dancing seamlessly between moments of whimsy in the first movement and a tender air of melancholy in the second. Towards the end of the third movement Kopatchinskaja employs some of the features that make her playing so recognisable, with sporadic use of expressive intonation and exaggerated vibrato to underline the dolorous phrases.

When it comes to Bartók's Second Sonata (after a brief interlude for Leschenko alone, who treats us to a sparkling performance of Ernő Dohnányi's arrangement of the Waltz from Delibes’s Coppelia), Kopatchinskaja again shows off a wide range of timbres and techniques, from long, drawn-out glissandos to glassy harmonics, and she is never afraid to thin her tone right down in order to achieve a particular effect. There's a passage in the second movement where within the space of just a few bars Bartók instructs the violinist to deploy a whole spectrum of playing requirements, whether it be phrases played entirely in harmonics, pizzicato notes that must be performed with vibrato, bars marked col legno sulla tastiera (to be played on the fingerboard with the wood of the bow rather than the hair) and so on, all of which are negotiated flawlessly by Kopatchinskaja.

Furthermore, both movements of this sonata are extremely complex rhythmically, and yet the two performers manage to move beyond the enormous technical demands and find the line and the phrasing in every bar. Again, the second movement contains moments that are stunning in their execution, including a fiendish section in 5/8 time that is exceedingly impressive for the quiet intensity and focus that the pair bring to their playing.

I wasn't sure if anything could top that Bartók performance, but I was pleased to be proved wrong with an equally commanding and individual account of Ravel's Tzigane. If there's one thing you can say about all of Kopatchinskaja's recordings to date, it's that she finds intriguing ways to put her own stamp on things, and nowhere is this more evident than the opening of this piece. Her unique way with vibrato that crept into the Poulenc and Bartók is applied here in something of an extreme manner, and to be perfectly frank I don't think everyone will like her approach. You'll probably be able to make your mind up after the opening few bars as to whether or not you're going to warm to it: on the long note in the first bar she applies a very fast, shimmering vibrato, which contrasts with the third bar, where it's a much slower, hypnotic kind of pulsing.

Even if that doesn't sound quite to your taste, there's no denying the endless energy and inventiveness brought to this piece by both performers. With its dazzling, constantly accelerating gallop to the finish line, it's a breathlessly thrilling end to a marvellously rewarding disc.