This is volume VI of András Schiff’s much praised chronological Beethoven cycle of the complete
sonatas recorded live at the Tonhalle Zürich, which will
consist of eight volumes on completion. In this set, Schiff covers
sonatas from the period between 1804 and 1810, and presents some
of the most famous and widely-known works in one place. The extreme
variety of Beethoven’s forms and conceptions in this period serves
to highlight the effectiveness of Schiff’s chronological approach.
The programme opens
with the two-movement Op.54 sonata, which combines lyricism and
drama in an incredible emotional range. Schiff’s touch is assured
right from the start, with subtlety and articulation ensuring
that the textures of the music shimmer like opalescent glass.
Nor does he shy away from the crucial theatricality of Beethoven’s
writing, as the recurrence of the weighty descending bass line
in the Allegretto shows – again, by contrast, highlighting
the transparency of the Bach-like imitative and contrapuntal writing
elsewhere.
My main comparison
has been with another complete set, that of Daniel Barenboim on
EMI. This was recorded in the 1960s in Abbey Road and still sounds
very good, having been my CD reference for complete cycles for
many years now, a place previously held by Wilhelm Kempff in a
big heavy box of 1950s mono DG LPs. I do have to say that Schiff
fair blows the young Barenboim out of the water with his live
recordings. When I came to compare the two players, I was sometimes
confronted with Barenboim’s now seemingly relatively gentle, almost
feminine approach. Where Schiff tightens in intensity through
clarity and articulation, Barenboim often spreads things out to
give more atmosphere. True, his ‘Appassionata’ is filled with
fiery playing and extremes of contrast, but Schiff somehow connects
the soft passages to those tempestuous outbursts by maintaining
a fearsome grip on the former: still giving us the shock and thrills
of Beethoven’s extravagance, but never allowing the pools of limpid
lyricism to stray from the taut path of a narrative which fate
decreed must include both at once. His second movement, Andante
con moto holds onto that forward pulse, bringing in that chorale
and its variations at 6:38 to Barenboim’s 8:05. Schiff has been
criticised earlier in this cycle for finicky attention to detail
almost to the point of mannerism, but I like his extreme clarity
in this and other movements – it somehow seems to bring us closer
to Beethoven, the magnificence of the rendition unencumbered by
too much ‘personality’ from the pianist. This is far from saying
that Schiff allows his character to be effaced by the music or
that his performances are any less than distinctive and, once
heard, instantly recognisable. The power that comes through does
seem more to be that of the ‘great composer’ than that of a ‘great
pianist’, for which I for one am grateful.
The substantial booklet
notes take the form of a conversation between András Schiff and Martin Meyer, illustrating Schiff’s thought
on the music, the chronological approach with its stylistic references
and removal of the stereotypes of programming – the more usual
placing of the ‘Appassionata’ as the last work in a recital, for
instance. Schiff also emphasises the importance of the inner pulse,
even when Beethoven’s creative pots and pans are flying all over
the place: “Creative freedom [should not] degenerate into a tempo-less
interpretation”.
Schiff’s insight of
course covers all of the works on this disc, and includes admissions
to the technical difficulties in virtuoso movements such as the
Allegro vivace of the Sonata in F sharp minor Op.78. Schiff
also manages to exploit the humour in this movement however, which
becomes a character piece in its own right – full of breathtaking
figurations and harmonic twists and turns. Unfatigued, either
as performer or listener, we can revel in Beethoven’s calling
card as a performer, the extrovert and witty Sonata in G major
Op.79. Schiff has great fun with the dance-like rhythms in this
piece, allowing its directness of musical language free rein,
giving us all a break from the complex intensities of the other
sonatas.
The final sonata,
Op. 81a, appropriately named ‘Les Adieux’, or rather ‘Das
Lebewohl’ by Beethoven himself, is dedicated “On the departure
of His Imperial Highness the esteemed Archduke Ferdinand”. The
work as a whole presents a wonderful portrayal of a spiritual
state somewhere between that initial farewell, the absence or
Abwesenheit in the second movement, and joyful reunion
in the finale, Das Wiedersehen. Schiff points out that
this piece should not be seen as programme music, but indicates
the little leitmotiefs and themes which have an arguable poetic
symbolism which would seem to go hand-in-glove with the titles
and emotional intention of the music. It may be the power of suggestion,
but to my ears these aspects in the piece are brought vividly
to life under Schiff’s fingers, and I can imagine a contemporary
audience ‘getting’ the references with no difficulty whatsoever.
There are many great
Beethoven cycles in the catalogue, and no new version will take
anything away from the mastery of pianists such as Gilels or Kempff.
In my humble opinion, András Schiff’s cycle is
however one very much for our times, bringing Beethoven with a
refreshing directness and interpretative clarity which will make
this cycle one of the best for a long time to come. ECM’s track
record on piano recordings is second to none, and the sound on
this release is truly excellent. Live performance has its own
sense of brilliance and spontaneity, and while I’m sure there
may well have be some ‘tidying up’ I never once spotted an edit,
the audience is entirely silent, and there is no applause anywhere.
Dominy Clements
András Schiff (piano)
