I remember many years
ago an elderly organist friend of mine
playing a piece by Ignaz Moscheles –
he had been a pianist of considerable
ability. I had invited him round to
the house for tea and afterwards he
gave an impromptu recital on my upright
piano. Included amongst this was the
Grande Étude de Concert Op.126.
I was seriously impressed at what seemed
to me an extremely complex and technically
difficult work ... it is. I remember
having a quick look round ‘Symphony
1’ and Cuthbertson’s, the two main classical
record shops in Glasgow in those days.
I found nothing and probably settled
for something more popular.
But the name has remained
with me all those years; occasionally
I have seen some Moscheles piano pieces
in a second-hand music shop. My original
view of the virtuosity required to master
many of these works has never been diminished.
A few years after hearing the Étude,
I learnt that the composer had written
no less than eight piano concertos –
along with a number of other concerted
works and a Symphony. They became -
like many other works by a variety of
composers that I will list one day -
a desideratum. Now as a result of Hyperion’s
industry and Howard Shelley’s artistry
we have all but Concerto No.8
on disc.
My first comment will
be heretical and is likely to brand
me a musical moron. But it happens to
be true: I enjoy and relate to these
seven concertos - the eighth has not
yet been recorded - more than I do to
those of Mendelssohn and dare I say
it Beethoven. It is not that I do not
hold Ludwig’s offerings in the highest
regard. I do: I recognise their greatness
and their power and their profundity.
It is just that somehow Moscheles’ works
seem to be more in keeping with my general
mood. It is probably the same mental
process at work that make me enjoy Gilbert
& Sullivan more than Verdi, Wagner
or Britten. All three works on this
disc are full of melody, piano technique
that defies the fingers agility and
satisfying forms. I often suspect that
Beethoven ‘goes on’ a little bit, but
with Moscheles I never feel there is
a bar too many or a note out of place.
This argument is not about relative
genius: it is about enjoyability. And
that is equally as important in music
as is struggling with a great work that
one feels one must appreciate, but does
not really enjoy.
Just a few details
to put the Ignaz Moscheles into context.
He was born in Prague in 1794, but was
never a stay-at-home. He studied in
Vienna, and after visiting Paris, came
as all good men do, to London. He stayed
there for over twenty years as a concert
pianist, teacher and composer before
moving to Leipzig. He lived there until
his death in 1870.
Of course I mentioned
Beethoven above and it is fair to say
that he had a tremendous influence on
Moscheles. In fact Mozart was also another
key influence. Both of these models
are visible at virtually every turn
on this disc. However Moscheles is on
the cusp between classical and romantic:
Liszt, Chopin and Robert Schumann were
still to compose their great masterpieces.
So Moscheles is more associated with
such half forgotten masters as Kalkbrenner,
Field and Hummel. For some reason most
of these composers from the early part
of the nineteenth century seem to have
been largely forgotten.
Let’s just write out
a small table of dates to help situate
these works.
| |
Major Piano Concertos
|
|
Moscheles Works
|
| 1809 |
Beethoven
Emperor |
|
|
| |
|
1818 |
No.1 |
| |
|
c1820 |
No.2
& No.3 |
| |
|
1823 |
No.
4 |
| |
|
1826 |
No.5
(begun)
Recollections of Ireland |
| |
|
1828 |
Anticipations of Scotland |
| 1829 |
Chopin
No.1 & 2 |
|
|
| 1831 |
Mendelssohn
No.1 |
|
|
| |
|
1832 |
First
performance of No.5 |
| |
|
1834 |
No.6 |
| |
|
1835 |
No.7 |
| 1837 |
Mendelssohn
No.2 |
|
|
| |
|
1838 |
No.8 |
| 1841/5 |
Schumann
A minor |
|
|
| 1849 |
Liszt
No.1 & 2 |
|
|
The first thing to
notice is that both the 4th
and the 5th Concerti
were largely composed before Chopin
set pen to paper on his masterpieces.
Yet even the most superficial hearing
of these works will reveal that there
is a considerable similarity between
the two composers’ sound-worlds. And
for good measure it is sometimes possible
to hear pre-echoes of Schumann too.
Yet Moscheles was also looking back.
It was only nineteen years after the
first performance of the Emperor.
So there is obviously a great dependence
on Beethoven.
The Fourth Concerto
was written at the peak of Moscheles’
career as a touring celebrity pianist.
It was written specifically during his
third visit to England in 1823. The
work received its first performance
in London before going on tour in Germany
and Austria. And this ‘popular’ mood
is well reflected in the amazing writing
for his instrument. One minute the music
is ‘all over the place,’ ostentatious
and showing the pianists prowess to
the full. The next moment the composer
has pulled a delightful melody as if
from nowhere. Then sometimes we feel
that jazz was invented eighty years
sooner than the history books tell us!
And let us never forget that typical
Moscheles fingerprint, the Scotch Snap.
I think this is a fantastic work. OK,
it is fair to admit that it does not
break conventions or define new paths
in composition. But it is enjoyable,
memorable and totally satisfying. There
is a perfect balance between virtuosity
and lyricism. What more can one demand
of a piece of music?
Musicologists divide
the composer’s output at this point.
This Fourth Concerto is seen
as the last of the flamboyant works
that emphasise ‘pyrotechnics’ and ‘popular’
melodies. For example the finale of
this work makes use of the tune British
Grenadiers which is developed in
a way that was guaranteed to bring the
audience to their feet. The Fifth
Concerto is a completely different
proposition. Apparently the work was
not a raging success at its early performances.
It seems that the musical public expected
‘more of the same’. And that is not
what Moscheles chose to give them. This
work fairly and squarely looks back
to Beethoven and even includes a quote
from the master’s C minor Concerto
(No.3). Once again this was mainly
written whilst the composer was residing
in London. However the first movement
was sketched whilst Moscheles was on
holiday in the German countryside. Unfortunately
he was soon to be sidetracked by work
on the Twenty Four Studies Op.70
and it was to be another five years
before the stunningly lovely adagio
was written. The last movement and first
performance was in 1832.
These is no doubt in
my mind that we are dealing with a much
more subtle and even sophisticated work
here. Certainly the flamboyant solo
part is still well to the fore. But
there is a reflectiveness, perhaps,
that was not evident in the Fourth
Concerto. He is no longer playing
to the gallery. This is a fine work
that repays listening to a few times
and allowing ourselves to get to know
well.
I just love the Recollections
of Ireland. Every note of this short
four movement ‘concerto-ette’ is full
of fun and poignancy, excitement and
reflection. Never for a moment does
the technical prowess of the soloist
have cause to relax.
The work was allegedly
written shortly after the composer's
visit to Dublin. His diary has preserved
his description of the hair-raising
crossing from Holyhead to Kingstown.
He wrote that ‘as the storm raged and
as sea water hissed into his cabin,
he put his faith in an almighty providence
and thought calmly of his sleeping wife
and baby’. But all was to be well: Moscheles
was to see his family again. Henry Roche
suggests that this work was written
out of gratitude for his survival. However
another slightly more prosaic suggestion
is that he was in the habit of concluding
his Irish recitals with a ‘Fantasy of
Irish Airs.’ So perhaps these Recollections
were just an extension of this conceit.
But I will stick with the former explanation.
These pot-boilers were
written to a definite formula. For example
the opening movement had to have a long
orchestral introduction before the soloist
enters in the 'grand manner.' It is
all about virtuosity - usually through
more and more complex development of
material. The succeeding movements explore
differing aspects of the Irish folk
tradition. For example the slow movement
is based on the well known tune The
Groves of Blarney. However we
know this melody as The Last Rose
of Summer nowadays. This is a beautiful
rendition of this tune, complete with
subtle ornamentation. Soon we are into
the allegro based on a Redcoat tune
called Garry Owen.
The last movement is
interestingly described by Roche as
belonging to an Ivesian soundscape-
insofar as Moscheles combines most of
the tunes he has used in the 'traditionally
ebullient conclusion'.
All in all this is
an excellent CD. As usual with this
Romantic Piano Concerto series the recordings
are second to none. Howard Shelley has
a great triumph with the presentation
of these works. The Tasmanian Symphony
Orchestra takes these concertos to heart
and plays them with restraint and in
a totally convincing manner. Henry Roche’s
programme notes are excellent and tell
us all we need to know to fully appreciate
these lost treasures.
For those listeners
who love good tunes or gorgeous melodies,
virtuosic playing and well balanced
formal structure this is the CD for
them. Of course I would also heartily
recommend the other two CDs of Moscheles’
concertos.
One final word. Apparently
the Eighth Concerto is missing
– at least the orchestral parts and
full score have gone adrift. The producer
has asked if anyone knows the whereabouts
of this material and if so to get in
touch P.D.Q. One can only hope and pray
that it is hidden in some dark recess
of a great library and will soon be
discovered. It would be sad if the tides
of time prevented us from having the
complete set of eight Moscheles Piano
Concertos, ‘cos the other seven are
fantastic!
John France
Romantic
Piano Concerto series
Howard Shelley, piano and conductor 
