Sunny Schubert and iridescent Ravel: album of the week

Grade: A

Maurice Ravel was tougher than he looked. True, he dressed like a dandy and wrote an opera about a dancing teapot. But when he was rejected for military service in the first world war (he was 39 and 5ft) he practically forced his way to the front line as a lorry driver – sheltering for days in a forest near Verdun after his truck was disabled by shrapnel. Apparently, when he visited Vaughan Williams in London he went straight to the Victoria Station grill and ordered steak and kidney pudding. Just when you thought you couldn’t admire the man any more.

It’s the toughness that impresses in this new recording of his Piano Trio. OK, not toughness – more like tautness, perhaps; a clear-eyed, athletic sort of grace. It’s played by Trio con Brio, a Copenhagen-based ensemble whose recent Beethoven cycle was notable for its freshness. Don’t worry, their Ravel still sounds exquisite: beautifully voiced and phrased, with Ravel’s iridescent harmonies shining like mother-of-pearl.

But it isn’t indulgent. There’s no smudging, it doesn’t languish, and there’s a controlled energy that can become an ice storm in a matter of bars. You’re very aware that Ravel was writing in the summer of 1914. It’s paired with Schubert’s sunny B flat Trio, and again, listen to the confident toss of the head as they launch into its swinging opening theme – the alertness, and the unselfconscious swagger. There’s a marvellous lilt and poise to the slow movement, too. This is young man’s music – like all Schubert – and Trio con Brio play it that way, like spring air.