Franz SCHUBERT (1797-1828)
Sonata No. 17 in D, D850 (1825) [39:35]
Sonata No. 21 in B-flat, D960 (1828) [43:28]
Anne-Marie McDermott (piano)
rec. 20-25 April 2021, Troy Savings Bank Music Hall, Troy, USA
BRIDGE 9550A/B [39:35 + 43:28]
The opening melody of D960 is a commanding
presence through the first movement. Anne-Marie McDermott makes it substantial
and soothing, not altogether serene, straightway explained at the end
of the first phrase by another presence: a subterranean disturbance
in the bass. The second part of the theme (CD2, tr. 1, 0:33) restores
its calm and balance, from McDermott like a fervent hymn. But the bass
introducing semiquavers below the third part of the theme (1:03) means
it has to work harder in its affirmation and goes into flights of fancy
before a crescendo brings it back to its opening, now in a more robust
manner. Another crescendo takes it off course into the second theme
(2:11). B flat major has become F sharp minor and anxiety abounds. This
theme, in the left hand, is covered, arguably overmuch by McDermott,
by her icy descant in the right hand, adding extra alarm. Repeated in
the right hand, it remains wayward and excitable, gathering ornaments
and then going into ecstatic upper register. McDermott makes it sound
like a suitable case for remedial treatment. Even the dancing quavers
in triplets into which it subsides (3:25) have an edge paving the way
for the manic end of the exposition where a phrase of resolution (4:08)
melds by turns into a storm of epic proportion, ostentatious double
arpeggio, charming poise and lastly a nightmarish intent on mischief
and the loudest, most violent appearance of the subterranean bass. McDermott
pulls no punches. The exposition repeat again starts soothingly, but
you’re now more attuned to the shadows, yet also admire the music’s
perseverance and thus that of the character it embodies. McDermott reveals
the agony rather more than the ecstasy. Yet I fancy the dancing quavers
are a touch blither now, the double arpeggio more elegant, while the
nightmarish transition is absent. The development (10:46) plunges the
opening theme into the minor and McDermott’s dancing quavers become
troubled indeed. But now a third theme is sketched (12:02) which, coming
to fruition in the major mode (12:51), provides an empathising response
to the distress, confirmed by the reappearance of the first theme. The
recapitulation is delivered by McDermott with the sober concentration
of unperturbed acceptance of the coexistence of the first theme and
its subterranean shadow.
I compare Llŷr Williams recorded live in 2018-9 (Signum Classics
SIGCD 832, now licensed to Presto). His approach is one of clear-sighted
probing, the first theme a smooth search for peace, the bass disturbance
just a marginal background of his overall optimism, burgeoning at the
fuller treatment of the theme. His second theme in the left hand is
as clear as his bright descant in the right, his dancing quavers neatly
pointed, double arpeggio refined, transition an unexpected, new experience
in its gangling in the left hand, but unthreatening, as is even the
louder subterranean bass. In the exposition repeat Williams’ dancing
quavers seem a touch freer. His development is a patient working through
without great distress, yet the salvation brought by the third theme
is still clear and satisfying. His concentration on melody and shape
creates a balmier recapitulation and restful coda because everything
has always been accepted.
McDermott’s approach to the Andante sostenuto slow movement
is unconventional. She takes a light-hearted, even joyous, stance to
the left-hand four-note rising figure, making a piquant contrast with
the melancholy of the right-hand melody which dovetails it with phrases
of falling emphasis. The isolation of the left-hand fourth note, always
higher than the right-hand melody, is thus clarified, though this distracts
somewhat from the first note, bottom C sharp, which spells for me a
bell toll. So, we’re in a funeral procession, but should this
be very clear or just the backcloth to affectionate celebration of past
times? For McDermott it seems a dance of death with gaily coloured,
even jaunty flourishes. I took more immediately to her A major central
section (tr. 2, 2:44), whose more substantial song quality and accompaniment
convey warm remembrance of the energy of life. Remembering a relationship
because it’s a duet, beginning with a baritone, then taken up
by a soprano (3:10) before back to the baritone (3:34), introducing
a cautionary element, then soprano again (4:29) responding pleadingly.
This dialogue isn’t resolved, ending with a poignant bar of silence.
With the return to the C sharp minor opening the bass now has a four-note
alternation with the four-note rise, for me like the bite of a funeral
carriage wheel. McDermott handles poetically the becalming modulation
to C major (6:00), paving the way for the C sharp major coda (7:16)
where the original sorrowing melody ends as rich, dark-grained affirmation.
Williams’ approach is differently daring: timing at 10:31 to McDermott’s
8:37, his sostenuto makes the Andante more like Adagietto.
The gain is a more intense, mournful melody, more emotive and distilled
but beauteous too, more affecting for the listener. Williams’
bell effects, the lowest and highest notes of the left-hand rising figure,
are as clear as McDermott’s, but the highest notes more respectful.
The loss is an over formal, less natural, duet in the central section,
so the disquiet of its final soprano presentation is muted. However,
Williams achieves a more moving stillness in the ppp coda,
a sense of the calm with which life can ultimately close, or death be
accepted.
Part of this acceptance, as in the Eroica Symphony, lies in
the following movement’s celebration of the energy and excitement
of new life. The marking of the Scherzo (tr. 3), Allegro vivace
con delicatezza and ubiquitous softness, clarify its character.
McDermott presents it as full toned, bright, opalescent gambolling.
The crescendo un poco in the second strain is enough for McDermott
to achieve a sense of climax. Her Trio (2:09) thoughtfully teases out
shadowy aspects of this new life, thus accounting for the interplay
between the right-hand syncopation and left-hand fzps, but
is the angularity thereby overstressed, a mite careful where it should
be carefree?
Williams, timing at 4:01 to McDermott’s 4:22, for me gets the
vivace freshness of this movement’s new life better and
with more con delicatezza, even his fps comparatively
moderated. In the Trio I find his balance between the two hands more
agreeable, achieving clarity without undue weight.
Like her second movement, McDermott’s rondo finale is unconventional.
After its opening call to attention, the contrast of her relaxed, delicately
musing approach to the theme is a pleasant surprise, with no detail
and variety missed. The first episode (tr. 4, 1:29) is also relaxed,
yet also has an assured sweep and McDermott brings a lovely, rippling
semiquavers’ backcloth before silence and, for the first time
ff (2:38) and the second episode where McDermott goes for grandeur
rather than terror. A fair choice as this is a paper tiger, the sun
coming out again in its descending theme (3:07). And then McDermott
beautifully relaxed again until the developmental area (4:21) becomes
more tense and clamorous, rescued by the return of the rondo theme.
McDermott casts the final return of that in endearingly innocent tiredness,
though for me her Presto coda (9:08) is too formal.
Williams, timing at 8:21 to McDermott’s 9:08, brings more conventional
pep to the rondo theme while also taking a relatively restrained approach.
He gets across the variety with finesse and is rhythmically very precise.
In the first episode his semiquavers’ accompaniment is less alluring
than McDermott’s. His second episode is more formal in its grandeur,
as is the sunshine, thereby rather pallid. His development, however,
has more excitement than McDermott’s. His final return of the
rondo theme is an affectionate, poetic farewell before a well contrasted
showboating coda.
Best for me in D850 is its opening Allegro,
whose sustained bravura writing and virtuosity are outstanding, as is
McDermott’s playing. Its opening theme is raw energy: crashing
chord, then repeated chords in rising sequences leading to a flight
to the skies, then commandingly swooping down. McDermott eschews grandeur
in favour of the freshness of surprise and exhilaration. The second
theme (CD1, tr. 1, 0:59) McDermott makes pixy like, contrasted in its
lightness, warmer and more playful in its return in the left hand (1:31).
In between comes a third element (1:12) featuring bold ff plunges
in both hands; thereafter twinkling fairy lights and demonic flashes
alternate. To the development (4:42) as well as considerable force McDermott
brings a triumphant air while the coda (8:20) matches terseness with
splendour.
Interpretation and recording are impeccable.
Check the price before buying as this release retails
as Two for the price of One although not all retailers have done this.
Michael Greenhalgh
Previous review: Dominy
Clements (Recording of the Month)
