BEETHOVEN Cello Sonata No. 4, op. 102/1. BRAHMS Cello Sonata No. 2. DEBUSSY Cello Sonata • Hyojin Lee (vc); Rachel Yunkyung Choo (pn) • Available from Apple Music and Amazon Music (Streaming audio: 63:36) Live: New York 4/25/2018

I was reminded as I listened to this outstanding cello recital of the remarkable depth of talent in this country, often possessed by dedicated teachers like Dr. Hyojin Lee from her base in Princeton, New Jersey. Lee made her orchestral debut in South Korea at 14 playing the Haydn Cello Concerto in C, and the musical growth on display here is moving testimony to her mature artistry. Lee performs three masterpieces of the cello repertoire with all the necessary elements in place: technical assurance, admirable musical instincts, and a natural feeling for each composer’s style.

Beethoven is credited with making the cello-and-piano sonata a major genre, setting in motion an evolution that led to Brahms and Debussy as important peaks. He wrote cello sonatas in every major phase of his career, and Lee plays one of the two late works from op. 102. They are curious creations after the densely expressive Sonata No. 3, op. 69 from Beethoven’s middle period, not because he explored knotty ideas as he did in the late string quartets and piano sonatas but almost for the opposite reason: there’s a simplicity that is idiosyncratic, rather like the late Bagatelles. The two op. 102 sonatas were composed simultaneously, and the first movement of No. 1 opens like a song without words in its inward lyricism.

Lee captures the mood perfectly and is accompanied with like-minded sympathy by pianist Rachel Yunkyung Choo, who is also South Korean and holds a doctorate in music. The usual way pf presenting this sonata is in two movement, but they choose to divide it into four, underscoring the extreme contrasts between sections. The second movement proceeds at an extroverted gallop that should be easier to respond to than it is. To quote a contemporary review of the two op. 102 sonatas, “They elicit the most unexpected and unusual reactions, not only by their form but by the use of the piano as well.” Lee and Choo play the music in a bravura mood that is quite winning. The third movement (i.e., the Adagio introduction to the second movement in the usual scheme) is beautifully expressed for its long melodic line, followed by the concluding Allegro vivace, which is impishly Bagatelle-like. Lee and Choo dig in with real conviction and liveliness.

Brahms’s Second Cello Sonata from 1886 followed Sonata No. 1 by a considerable span (he wrote the first two movements of No. 1 on vacation in 1862, the last two in 1865). Both works advance on Beethoven by their profound depth, knotty harmonic complexity, and soaring emotion. This combination, along with Brahms’s intense expression, gives scope for passionate readings like the classic one by the young Jacqueline du Pré and Daniel Barenboim. There have been more restrained performances, of course, but du Pré is exceptional in bringing the music to life, maintaining rhapsodic intensity even in the songful Adagio. This performance by Lee and Choo is cut from the same cloth, which makes it superb.

Lee plays with a little less abandon than du Pré, preserving her beautiful tone under pressure. Brahms wrote solo-quality parts for the piano in his chamber music, and Choo displays a strong individual voice. This is especially evident in the third movement, where long stretches reverse the priority, making the piano dominant—Choo is bold and thrilling here. The Rondo finale of Sonata No. 2 can seem anticlimactic if played too lightly, but Lee and Choo attack it with ardent expression. I find their finale very successful, and indeed is the entire performance.

Debussy’s late Cello Sonata, from a period when he largely left behind both Impressionism (a term he disliked) and subtle harmonic exploration, can be played almost as straight Romanticism, albeit with modal touches and unexpected twists. The date is 1915, two decades after his last chamber work, the String Quartet from 1893. Inspired by a performance of the Saint-Saëns Septet (now as obscure as the Debussy Cello Sonata is famous), he intended the work to be the first in a project to compose six sonatas for diverse instruments, which was left incomplete at his death.

The first-movement Prologue is emotionally poignant and introspective, no doubt influenced by Debussy’s response to World War I, but it is marked molto risoluto (very resolute) as if to depict strength in crisis. Lee and Choo capture both aspects very convincingly. They achieve an intensity similar to their Brahms, which I find appealing, although other listeners won’t identify this as Debussyan. The second-movement Sérénade is more curious than its simple designation hints at. The off-kilter pizzicatos at the beginning are a reminder that Debussy wrote “Golliwog’s Cakewalk.” Lee and Choo nicely convey the music’s sly humor. The finale is marked “lively and nervous,” pointing to an anxious state that is still determined to be animated by high spirits. It’s an unusual juxtaposition of moods, and Debussy contrives some mysterious gestures, all of it captured with confident musicality here.

There are cases when a performer will be greeted even by experienced collectors with “Who?” and yet come through with deeply satisfying readings that surprise and delight. That is what happens here. The recorded sound from the Bruno Walter Auditorium at Lincoln Center is excellent. Huntley Dent