The ladies and gentlemen in attendance at Disney Hall Wednesday night, October 10th, 2007, were certainly an extraordinarily fortunate group of listeners, because by all accounts András Schiff gave a performance of Beethoven Sonatas at the summit of interpretive pianism - it was a non plus ultra, a sine qua non, or if you will quite simply an emotional and intellectual tour de force.
Although Schiff displayed elements of pianism that one might read about in a typical newspaper review of a concert; adjectives like flawless pianism, brilliant, or astonishing virtuosity, that will not be the point of my comments here. For Schiff played well not just from a pianistic point of view one might describe with fanciful adjectives, but especially he played the Sonatas in a way that illuminated and shed new light both stylistically and emotionally on an art that although not entirely lost, is certainly rarely encountered. He is part of a quiet revolution in interpretive style that has been going on in some musical circles for the last 40 years.
What is this stylistic revolution? It is the realization that when one interprets Beethoven on any piano, the sound of the fortepiano and the time it existed in - an instrument smaller than the modern concert grand piano, built with far more individuality (therefore containing far more unique characteristics), and different woods and string materials - dramatically alters every aspect of an interpretation. The fortepiano was developing on a yearly basis during Beethoven's lifetime and had been in constant development since the Baroque period. This furthermore indicates that the Classical period of music is actually very much closer in time to the Baroque period than people are commonly used to thinking about it. And therefore there is quite a bit of stylistic similarity still left over from the Baroque going onwards into the Classical.
One might use the word revolution because most of the pianists or recordings that are commercially available, have mostly ignored this stylistic factual evidence and tended to homogenize the Sonatas under a large lump of fuzzy romantic pedal, metric phrasing accents on every bar (the laundry machine effect), and indistinct articulation.
Schiff's concert consisting of the first four Sonatas played in chronological order was perhaps the only concert of Beethoven Sonatas I have ever been to that finally brought to the forefront the timeline of development in each Sonata and just how different each Sonata is even among these four early works. Here was the first Sonata in F minor played with Haydnesque simplicity with sparse pedal, a pedaling evoking the knee pedals Beethoven would have used on a fortepiano, phrasing that followed the score in all its contrasting elements - short motivic phrases as well as longer lyric passages and sudden changes of harmony. Different types of phrases got attention with a rare combination of vitality and contrasting spontaneous freedom. And he had the daring to improvise ornaments in the repeats so that one got the feeling of freshness and a real connection with the Baroque. However underneath everything Schiff still brought out the structural elements just enough that one noticed the architecture on an almost subconscious level.
The more serious size and technical demands of the second Sonata in A major were brought out with wonderful charm, registration, and pedaling. I heard echo effects, bird calls, horns, and even one or two rare Turkish stops (fortepianos often had different stops that would produce various percussive or jingle effects). Here Schiff showed the development that had occurred in Beethoven's thinking since the first F minor Sonata - or was it just that he played with a transparency that allowed the listener to hear the development that is naturally there?
He played the virtuostic third Sonata more on the brooding and noble side of this unusual work that sets very opposing themes against each other. In contrast with the fourth Sonata that is all orchestra, this third is pure pianism - it has a concertante style replete with cadenzas and trills that go on humming for ages. The music took on grandiose proportions with special attention given to the parenthetic cadenzi in both the 1st and 4th movements. Schiff took time with the music and let it breathe and although I have heard this Sonata played effectively at much faster tempi, especially in the first movement, this was still a performance that was convincing on every level. One thing I started to notice as Schiff was playing the slow movement is how he chose to relate tempos to each other within the context of entire works. There were not the usual huge dramatic shifts in tempo between first and second movements and second and third, rather Schiff had the movements flow into one another almost on a train of thought linking the movements together.
This approach proved to be entirely brilliant in the most important work of the evening - the fourth Sonata Op. 7. The symphonic first movement was played with stunning variety of color in its huge orchestral canvas of winds, string, and tutti sections and served as an introduction to the lyric, sighing, choral versus instrumental solos in the second movement. In the third movement I found myself thinking that this piece must have influenced Schubert a great deal (Schiff later played the first of the Drei Klavierstücke in E flat minor as an encore). In the fourth movement, Schiff presented the listener with an idea similar to the Haydn Farewell Symphony; groups of instruments that take leave and thus leave the rest of the orchestra playing chamber music.
For anyone who has ever travelled to Vienna where Beethoven lived much of his life, it is evident that the size of concert venues in Europe is smaller than those that exist in the United States, and so it is all the more impressive that Schiff was able to bring out details that are easily lost in a concert hall as gigantic as the 2000+ seat Disney Hall. It may be unfair to compare such a large hall and space and even audience attentiveness with smaller ones elsewhere but even so the audience was characteristically noisy for Los Angeles. At the very least it is a noisy one compared to European and Asian audiences. It took the better part of the recital, well into the second movement of the Sonata op. 7, for people to settle down and just listen. It is hard to understand how some patrons can climb over seats, or get into fights, or leave suddenly on various errands during a performance. To his credit, András Schiff brought his artistry and concentration in spades and ignored the small annoyances. An absolute gem of a recital.
Copyright © Peter Wittenberg
Although Schiff displayed elements of pianism that one might read about in a typical newspaper review of a concert; adjectives like flawless pianism, brilliant, or astonishing virtuosity, that will not be the point of my comments here. For Schiff played well not just from a pianistic point of view one might describe with fanciful adjectives, but especially he played the Sonatas in a way that illuminated and shed new light both stylistically and emotionally on an art that although not entirely lost, is certainly rarely encountered. He is part of a quiet revolution in interpretive style that has been going on in some musical circles for the last 40 years.
What is this stylistic revolution? It is the realization that when one interprets Beethoven on any piano, the sound of the fortepiano and the time it existed in - an instrument smaller than the modern concert grand piano, built with far more individuality (therefore containing far more unique characteristics), and different woods and string materials - dramatically alters every aspect of an interpretation. The fortepiano was developing on a yearly basis during Beethoven's lifetime and had been in constant development since the Baroque period. This furthermore indicates that the Classical period of music is actually very much closer in time to the Baroque period than people are commonly used to thinking about it. And therefore there is quite a bit of stylistic similarity still left over from the Baroque going onwards into the Classical.
One might use the word revolution because most of the pianists or recordings that are commercially available, have mostly ignored this stylistic factual evidence and tended to homogenize the Sonatas under a large lump of fuzzy romantic pedal, metric phrasing accents on every bar (the laundry machine effect), and indistinct articulation.
Schiff's concert consisting of the first four Sonatas played in chronological order was perhaps the only concert of Beethoven Sonatas I have ever been to that finally brought to the forefront the timeline of development in each Sonata and just how different each Sonata is even among these four early works. Here was the first Sonata in F minor played with Haydnesque simplicity with sparse pedal, a pedaling evoking the knee pedals Beethoven would have used on a fortepiano, phrasing that followed the score in all its contrasting elements - short motivic phrases as well as longer lyric passages and sudden changes of harmony. Different types of phrases got attention with a rare combination of vitality and contrasting spontaneous freedom. And he had the daring to improvise ornaments in the repeats so that one got the feeling of freshness and a real connection with the Baroque. However underneath everything Schiff still brought out the structural elements just enough that one noticed the architecture on an almost subconscious level.
The more serious size and technical demands of the second Sonata in A major were brought out with wonderful charm, registration, and pedaling. I heard echo effects, bird calls, horns, and even one or two rare Turkish stops (fortepianos often had different stops that would produce various percussive or jingle effects). Here Schiff showed the development that had occurred in Beethoven's thinking since the first F minor Sonata - or was it just that he played with a transparency that allowed the listener to hear the development that is naturally there?
He played the virtuostic third Sonata more on the brooding and noble side of this unusual work that sets very opposing themes against each other. In contrast with the fourth Sonata that is all orchestra, this third is pure pianism - it has a concertante style replete with cadenzas and trills that go on humming for ages. The music took on grandiose proportions with special attention given to the parenthetic cadenzi in both the 1st and 4th movements. Schiff took time with the music and let it breathe and although I have heard this Sonata played effectively at much faster tempi, especially in the first movement, this was still a performance that was convincing on every level. One thing I started to notice as Schiff was playing the slow movement is how he chose to relate tempos to each other within the context of entire works. There were not the usual huge dramatic shifts in tempo between first and second movements and second and third, rather Schiff had the movements flow into one another almost on a train of thought linking the movements together.
This approach proved to be entirely brilliant in the most important work of the evening - the fourth Sonata Op. 7. The symphonic first movement was played with stunning variety of color in its huge orchestral canvas of winds, string, and tutti sections and served as an introduction to the lyric, sighing, choral versus instrumental solos in the second movement. In the third movement I found myself thinking that this piece must have influenced Schubert a great deal (Schiff later played the first of the Drei Klavierstücke in E flat minor as an encore). In the fourth movement, Schiff presented the listener with an idea similar to the Haydn Farewell Symphony; groups of instruments that take leave and thus leave the rest of the orchestra playing chamber music.
For anyone who has ever travelled to Vienna where Beethoven lived much of his life, it is evident that the size of concert venues in Europe is smaller than those that exist in the United States, and so it is all the more impressive that Schiff was able to bring out details that are easily lost in a concert hall as gigantic as the 2000+ seat Disney Hall. It may be unfair to compare such a large hall and space and even audience attentiveness with smaller ones elsewhere but even so the audience was characteristically noisy for Los Angeles. At the very least it is a noisy one compared to European and Asian audiences. It took the better part of the recital, well into the second movement of the Sonata op. 7, for people to settle down and just listen. It is hard to understand how some patrons can climb over seats, or get into fights, or leave suddenly on various errands during a performance. To his credit, András Schiff brought his artistry and concentration in spades and ignored the small annoyances. An absolute gem of a recital.
Copyright © Peter Wittenberg
