András Schiff astonishes in a quiet revolution at Disney Hall, Los Angeles - Beethoven Sonatas no.1 - 4

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

Thoughts after Les Paul and the quest for reverb...

After attending a performance by Les Paul at the Iridium...amazing that he still plays at the age of 90+. Arguably the inventor of the electric guitar, I did find that Les´guitar had a much warmer quality than most electric guitars I have heard. He plays in a lyric style and uses a lot of interesting effects especially notable being his slides and vibrato. The performance led me to other thoughts as I had just been back and forth from Europe so I started thinking about reverb...

The Iridium is a typical jazz club with low-ceilings. The Les Paul band is amplified by microphones, and this made me think about the difference in architecture in buildings and how this may have influenced the development and use of different instruments. It is also quite interesting to note the difference in interpretive use of resonance and sonority in different places in the world. For now I will limit my comparisons to Europe and the United States because those are the two places I have spent the most time observing the relationship between architecture and reverb.

In Europe a lot of the architecture that exists, and the design of the architecture that music has developed in (cathedrals and palaces), has acoustics that have reverb built into the acoustic space of the building. So when one listens to an acoustic instrument, be it a guitar or a mandolin or piano, there is a certain natural bounce or aura to the sound.

In Europe, the Roman Catholic church has developed its services in countries north of Italy along with music to enhance the the meaning of the service. This is natural as it brings community, class, and nobility to the service. As the middle classes develop in Europe, starting in the 16th century, one also finds more and more music composed for private functions in palaces and large residences.

Classical music, which at the time was a form of popular music, then develops in these rich church and palace spaces. There is a lot of highly resonant stone, marble, and wood and therefore a lot of reverb/aura around the sound. It means that as a player one relies more on articulation and phrasing to make an effect.

So I would argue that the architecture of spaces has a lot to do with the development of classical music through 1900. Post 1900 there is a totally different movement in the classical field; more public 'concert hall' spaces are built, electronic music enters the picture, and so things go in all sorts of directions.

The space that one experiences classical music in is similar to the plate you eat from or the wine glass you drink from. For example a tulip glass shape was eventually developed that enhances the flavor and aroma of wine. The shape has the effect of focusing the aroma. Just as it would be strange to drink a fine wine from a mug or even worse a paper cup, it is so with acoustic instruments.

It is interesting to note that on the Eastern coast of the United States architecture is modeled on the English style (which was in turn modeled on Italian examples.) The flooring is mostly wooden much as it is in Europe, but the type of wood used is very different and the ceilings are not quite as high as in European structures. The difference in amount of reverb between woods and a 3 meter ceiling and a 6 meter ceiling is great. Materials and size make a great difference in the amount of reverb that a space has.

Also important to note is the importance of functional nature of buildings designed in the United States. The result is that industrial materials then influence the acoustics of the space. Wall to wall carpeting, ceilings made from insulated fibers, wooden flooring that is glued to plywood, and even the type of plaster used all influence the amount of reverb that a space projects to the listener.

Therefore what people are used to hearing naturally in the United States and Europe is already determined and influenced by the environment they have long become accustomed with. These are two vastly different worlds. So I am suggesting that in Europe there is a different and more generous type of resonance that people are used to hearing than what one finds in the United States. In the United States (as well as Asia), acoustics tend to be more dry, even to the point of dead sound or the absence of reverb, and this very naturally leads to a craving for reverb. Or in interpretive terms - a lengthening or prolonging of sounds - more blending of articulations, more use of sustaining pedal etc.

One of the major venues for musical events and sources of income for classical musicians has never existed in the United States - palaces. Royalty and the aristocracy played a large part in the development of a classical music tradition and concert performers. But the acoustic in palaces is very rich in reverb, and so a performer tends to want execute on the dryer or more clear side. It is also interesting to note that as classical music was performed more outside of the church, the acoustic of keyboard instruments developed more sustaining power. By comparing the modern grand piano, a fortepiano, and a harpsichord - one can trace the history of sound reverb through these instruments.

This takes us back to electric instruments - did electronic instruments with long decaying soundwaves develop because of dry acoustics? Reverb is added to the sound and therefore some of the lack of a proper acoustic or the resonance ratio is solved by the relationship between the electric instrument and the amplification and speaker system. One could have the worst acoustic in the world, but with an electronically amplified instrument and speakers, the negative qualities of the room are lessened by the sound system with the help of the sound engineer. This has more implications than just the naturally balanced acoustic/music in the room. It also means that musicians using electronic amplification are free to use far less energy than would normally be required to create an acoustic sound. There is no longer the effort or personal struggle required to produce a quantity or more especially an intensity of sound.

This missing energy is that which in an acoustic non-amplified performance which creates tension underneath the surface of the music. It is not easily identifiable to an untrained ear and may not be immediately obvious to listeners, but in non-amplified performances there is a greater sense of personal energy than in electronically amplified performances.

It is very difficult to sustain the level of concentration and energy needed to perform on non-amplified instruments, and in that sense one could think of a classical training as one that also requires the learner to develop concentration and energy. That being said, one cannot deny the basic desire for reverb. So in this sense it is natural that electronically amplified instruments have blossomed in popularity and far exceeded the dimensions of reaching a large public that classical performances can. One can now safely add generous amounts of reverb to even football stadiums or large parks. turning any space into a venue for performance.

The genre of popular music that can be traced through someone like Les Paul is more suited to spaces which have dry acoustics. In that respect, classical performers need to consider the space they are performing in and not serve it out of a paper cup...I think it is better not to perform in a bad space rather than allow listeners to hear an instrument clearly not designed for modern carpets and low ceilings. Why? Because most listeners will make a judgment about the degree of 'richness' of a performance based partly on the context, and the acoustics that people are surrounded with may have a very large influence on their taste in music!

Copyright © Peter Wittenberg