Wolfgang Amadeus MOZART (1756-1791)
Piano Sonatas Volume 2
Piano Sonata No. 7 in C major, K309 (1777) [18:09]
Piano Sonata No. 9 in D major, K311 (1777) [15:17]
Piano Sonata No. 8 in A minor, K310 (1778) [18:44]
Rondo in A minor, K511 (1787) [8:50]
Peter Donohoe (piano)
rec. 2019, Royal Birmingham Conservatoire
SOMM SOMMCD0198 [61:17]
Peter Donohoe begins the second CD of his cycle of Mozart’s piano sonatas with Piano Sonata 7 that of the musical ostentation of Mannheim where Mozart composed it (review of Volume 1). Quite a splash to start. A loud, brief ‘get-up-and-go’ commanding opening phrase is followed by a soft, prevaricating, second one. We’re into the operatic interplay of gentleman and lady vying for supremacy. The gentleman Donohoe presents with heavy bluster, the lady with an appreciation of the ornate but also the feistiness to champion it. Mozart’s marking is Allegro con spirito. That pace and mood, well maintained by Donohoe, is an important constituent in the vibrancy of the movement. The contest proves an uneven one. The man has 2 seconds’ start, the lady 12 seconds’ response. Then the man another 3 seconds, but the lady 78. You can say the first theme is unevenly shared by both, but the lady has the second (tr. 1, 0:37) of athletic climbs and then tumbling descents. She also has the third theme (1:01) in which precise daintiness gives way to jocular keeling over and then what looks like a statement of triumph converts to the frill and thrill of semiquaver runs. Not until the exposition codetta does the man in a stomping bass in octaves (1:35) challenge the lady’s show. In the development the man tries to provoke more sternly in the minor. Now the lady echoes him and expands this vein in more tragic manner. The man delivers his opening motif more frequently, but it’s always softly brushed off by the lady. When the recapitulation comes the man plays his trump card, plunging into the minor again (4:32), but the lady soon pulls back her response to the major and subtle variants of her returning material further illumine her resourcefulness. The man’s stomping bass in the codetta now seems milder from Donohoe, as if resigned to accepting incompatibility. Donohoe presents this all vividly, so I’m sorry he doesn’t ever repeat the second part of the movement as well as the exposition.
I compare the 2013 live recording by Christian Blackshaw (Wigmore Hall Live WHLive0078/2). Where Donohoe emphasises the boldness and drama, looking towards the 19th century particularly in the shifts of harmony; Blackshaw tempers this by dwelling on the continuity with 18th century style, especially in an assured balance between the two hands. So what are often conventional figures in the bass are presented as a support almost as significant as the melody. The slightly greater pace, 5:54 against Donohoe’s 6:10, aids this smoothing process. The outcome is that Blackshaw brings us not so much a contest as a game between the gent and lady, more genteel and humorous. A shining example is that jocular tumbling of the third theme: where Donohoe is a touch coltish in its dotted rhythms (1:04), Blackshaw is all sparkle and wit. His development has only a mock boldness from the man and a crestfallen response in kind from the lady. Every shift of perspective is matched until everything comes right. Blackshaw’s interpretation, then, of Mozart’s marking Allegro con spirito is like Haydn’s Spiritoso, which the New Grove suggests can mean ingenious as well as vivacious, while Donohoe’s is more like the element of fire familiar in Beethoven’s Allegro con brio. In Donohoe’s favour, when Mozart used the same Allegro con spirito marking for the opening movement of his Haffner Symphony, he wrote “it must go with real fire”, but that was five years later.
The sonata’s slow movement is all focussed on the lady and Mozart owned that it depicts the character of his pupil Rosa Cannabach, for whom the sonata was written. From Donohoe’s approach to this Andante un poco adagio theme and variations it becomes apparent the character has grace of contour but a fundamental steel too. Donohoe presents her melody with appreciable directness and firmness of phrasing: Rosa knows exactly where she’s going, but the meticulousness of her gait is rather formal. Donohoe does, however, achieve an unbuttoned contrast in the ever-varying bass notes’ passages that link the variations. The first variation (tr. 2, 1:13) adds grace notes to the melody in the right hand and, as we know Rosa’s was “very good”, perhaps they should be more lightly applied than Donohoe does. However, the running demisemiquavers of the second variation (1:48) bring a greater freedom from him, a good preparation for the poise discernible in the lovely central arioso (2:24) in which Donohoe is noticeably sunnier. After this, the movement’s opening melody returns in its third variation (3:15), its dotted rhythm now presented in reverse order, demisemiquaver followed by dotted semiquaver, and the feel of deliberation returns with it. But, as earlier, running demisemiquavers ease the presentation, first for the return of the arioso (3:50), then in the fourth variation (4:38). Should you think the left-hand trills at 4:07 and 4:11 in that arioso return are over the top, let me point out Mozart was keen Rosa should improve that hand. The juiciness of the right-hand chromatic descents in the codetta (5:26) signal wistfulness in the farewell, albeit firmly articulated.
Blackshaw, timing this movement at 6:35 to Donohoe’s 5:50, leans more to its adagio element, but the greater relaxation thereby achieved is for me more persuasive. Blackshaw’s phrasing is smoother, while he also conveys a sense of spontaneity in his seamless flow in projecting the piece’s progression. Poised and sensitive treatment of gradations in dynamics are an important part of this effect. Come the central arioso, there’s more intensity and earnest gaze. With Blackshaw the movement, now exquisite, now with moments of disarming cheekiness, is a journey of musing exploration rather than a series of hoops to go through. He also makes more telling use of the space in the rests towards the end. Incidentally, those left-hand trills he tastefully plays as appoggiaturas.
The Allegretto grazioso rondo finale abounds in that carefree mix of elegance and diverting japes which seems to come so naturally from Mozart and here Donohoe too. The latter sustains a fine balance of clarity of articulation and verve in the application of grace notes which confirm the movement’s fundamental skipping quality. The first episode (tr. 3, 0:55) is a scintillating series of tumbles, then simultaneous contrasting material between right and left hands. At one moment (1:31) shrugging everything off with a beaming smile, then animation in the right hand with perky articulation in the left. An extravagant transitional passage is required to reintroduce the rondo theme. This is almost immediately elaborated in semiquaver runs, succeeded by the first episode right-hand animation and left-hand articulation again before a second episode (2:44) matches this in liveliness before gradually reclaiming first episode material. The third appearance of the rondo theme is varied by the percussive change of the two quavers before the end note of its first two phrases to four staccato semiquavers, with the end note now trilled, which soon sets off chains of semiquavers in triplets. Returning again, the first episode’s right-hand animation and left-hand perky articulation is worked up to a more feverish pitch. The codetta brings the fourth appearance of the rondo theme, now in low right-hand register, against which the semiquaver runs in the left hand seem of equal importance. Mozart is still drilling Rosa’s left hand, but can write stimulating music at the same time.
Blackshaw, timing his rondo at 6:28 to Donohoe’s 6:07, is a touch more relaxed. His opening is much daintier, more 18th century, the grace notes less vibrantly treated than Donohoe’s but the loud passages firm enough. Again, with Blackshaw you’re made more aware of dynamic contrasts and rests and, although Blackshaw plays a modern piano, the intimacy a fortepiano would bring. Donohoe nods at 19th century composers for the piano. In the thick of the movement, Blackshaw’s animated right hand isn’t as electric as Donohoe’s, but it’s bright and very enjoyable. And where Donohoe’s left-hand articulation is crisp, Blackshaw’s has a mellow, rounded quality to savour. Donohoe’s beaming, shrugging off phrase, for me the loveliest in the movement, from Blackshaw (tr. 3, 1:34) becomes a passage of pure grace.
Donohoe next turns to Piano Sonata 9. It begins with the same Allegro con spirito marking as Sonata 7 and is also influenced by the pyrotechnics of the Mannheim Orchestra, but there’s more sense here of eagerly wishing to transfer them to the piano. This really is a whizz-bang piece and brilliantly played by Donohoe. The opening chord is arpeggiated in the right hand. The first theme scampers along in semiquavers and is flecked with appoggiaturas and trills. The second theme (tr. 4, 0:27), in quavers, provides the standard, refined contrast you’d expect, particularly in a symphony. A third theme in the exposition codetta (0:46) manages to coalesce these moods by gathering the quick and slow rhythms together. At the very end there’s a short phrase which achieves a grateful point of relaxation. Then Mozart throws you off guard by making that phrase the generator of the development (2:12). Hopefully you’ll be further entertained, if not confused, by the only ‘reversed recapitulation’ in his piano sonatas, beginning with the third theme (2:45), followed by the second theme (3:18), and the first theme (3:53) left to head the coda. Donohoe plays all this with a genial relish of its fun, in particular the left-hand echoes of the right and exuberant sprinkling of ornamentation.
I compare the 2016 recording by Jean Muller (Hänssler Classic HC19074). Although his timing is virtually the same, he doesn’t bring the breakneck quality I like in Donohoe. Muller is still vivacious and admirably clear, yet with a politeness that’s attractive but, after hearing Donohoe, seems to me containment. By scrupulous dynamic contrast, Muller makes the development more dramatic, but I prefer Donohoe’s more musing approach and then more bubbling recapitulation. Donohoe follows the Bärenreiter Neue Ausgabe Sämtlicher Werke Urtext in not arpeggiating the two chords before the short phrase at the end of the exposition. Muller does arpeggiate them, perhaps because they are arpeggiated at the same point in the music’s coda, but I suggest the intention there is to make that point more emphatic by the difference as well as recall the arpeggiation at the movement’s start.
The surprises continue in the slow movement. Its main theme is multifaceted. It begins soft and hymn like, but its line is distorted by a loud, staccato call to attention at midpoint, after which it carries on regardless. The second time this happens it concludes positively and celebrates with a postlude almost the length of its principal phrases. Then it switches rather precipitately back to the beginning. After the repeat we get something more stable: a quite high tessitura arioso (tr. 5, 1:15) and you realize the main theme is a rondo one and we’re now at the episode, or second theme in this sonata-rondo. The return of the rondo theme at this high tessitura sounds very bright, but the recasting of its call to attention with a soft echo, like affirmation followed by plea, is effective. Donohoe proves a reliable guide through all these changes and the episode’s return in comfortable soprano range in the right-hand (2:56) has the wondering, reflective quality that often enhances Mozart’s piano concertos.
Muller, timing at 6:09 to Donohoe’s 4:58, plays the movement closer to Adagietto than the marked Andante, but for me this works better on a modern piano, as Muller’s call to attention is firm but less jarring and heavy than Donohoe’s and I also like the way he smooths the return to the opening. He makes a virtue of being unhurried and stylishly adds, in keeping with the main mood, a little more ornamentation in the repeat. The episode and then return of the rondo theme sound more magically ethereal at Muller’s slower tempo, the episode’s return a mix of rich recollection and, in the precise marking of its grace notes, a determination to enjoy the present.
The Allegro finale is also a sonata-rondo, its main theme ever smiling and often laughing in its effervescent descents in semiquavers. Then a few leaps and exquisite calming down and shrug, Mozart showing, as so often, that ending is as interesting as beginning. Next, a bold introduction gives way to flowing quavers and, second time, dazzling semiquavers before a calm, well mannered, episode, or second theme enters (tr. 6, 0:49), dance-like in a refined way and with a touch of breadth and thereby the exaltation of Beethoven. But by the repeat of its second phrase it’s infiltrated by a livewire and those semiquavers break out again, offering a very cavorting alternative (1:07). Donohoe takes this all in his stride, but you might like to reflect how fine a pianist Josepha Freysinger, for whom it seems the sonata was intended, must have been. I agree with Stanley Sadie in his book on early Mozart that its virtuosity suggests Mozart wrote it mainly for himself to play. Now when the rondo theme returns, that interesting ending I mentioned earlier sets off the development (2:21) with a new, pressing theme in a shimmer of trills and semiquaver runs and then another new, very sprightly theme (2:44), especially when decorated on repeat. You’re charmed by its vivacity, all to do with the rhythmic interplay between the hands rather than the melody. If by now you’re beginning to feel stuffed with themes, Mozart relaxes you by ingeniously spinning out that interesting ending and then writing out a cadenza for the right hand (3:27), brief but providing three changes of tempo which Donohoe presents with poise. Second helpings of all the exposition themes, with some small but refreshing variations, are now acceptable and, the way Donohoe plays them, welcome like old friends.
I’d summarise Donohoe’s finale as playful and frilly, yet alive to its carnival like parade and variety of themes. Muller, with no difference in timing, emphasises Mozart’s dynamic contrasts, so his first presentation of the rondo theme begins soft and I feel like appreciating the fine detail of a portrait miniature by Nicholas Hilliard. Muller’s loud contrasts only kick in substantially in the low tessitura of the bold introduction to the second theme, but he doesn’t give that theme the flow in phrasing Donohoe does and it’s therefore less special. Muller scrupulously observes but Donohoe inhabits the music, so I’m happy to settle for Donohoe’s more rounded approach to dynamic contrasts.
The third sonata Donohoe presents is Piano Sonata 8, written in Paris, Mozart’s first in a minor key and the best known work on this CD. Rather like his first minor key Symphony 25, it’s a piece of compelling urgency and fire. Donohoe clearly maps out the stinging opening theme over the congested left-hand chords which seek to weigh it down. The second phrase (tr. 7, 0:10), I think of a lady responding to a gentleman again, is an attempt to shrug this off with happier thoughts, but these are instantly dismissed and the man works himself into heroic defiance. The second theme (0:41), in C major, permits the lady a longer vision of happy times in an endless frilly chain of semiquavers, below and then above which a skeletal melodic thread from the man emerges, then melds with the first theme’s opening fanfare figure to leave both at loggerheads at the end of the exposition. The dissonances in the development display the man’s sadness but this dominates the lady’s semiquavers, while the recapitulation of the second theme in A minor shows the argument has been lost and all she can do is scramble around like a headless chicken. Instead of a coda, Mozart inserts within this recap three frenetic, cascading descents (5:23 to 5:29).
I compare Christian Blackshaw recorded live in 2012 (Wigmore Hall Live WHLive0061/2). His timing of 8:41 in comparison with Donohoe’s 5:45 is because he makes the second half repeat, for me a good decision as it emphasises the irrevocable nature of the tragic scene. Without that repeat, Blackshaw is only 10 seconds more measured than Donohoe, you might say a touch more Maestoso in the sense of a stately Allegro. In Blackshaw’s opening I feel more sorrow than anger and even in the recollection of a happier, gracious lifestyle in his gentler treatment of the second theme. Where Donohoe conveys a sense of hastiness in Mozart’s expression, Blackshaw clarifies its seamless quality, but the danger of this becoming rather abstract is countered by Blackshaw’s more sensitive attention to dynamic contrasts. The loud heroic stance at the end of the opening theme is echoed softly, accepting it as a new way of life and before this passage comes in the recapitulation it’s prefaced by a graphic decrescendo. The jarring left-hand in Blackshaw’s development reveals the lady as a fighter, but those added cascades near the end come from Blackshaw with more of a thunderbolt quality.
To the Andante cantabile con espressione slow movement Donohoe brings a carefree sense of plenty and fruitfulness, but key to this are the second section (tr. 8, 0:39) of the first theme which reaches out to the heavens and the similarly the optimistic nature of that (1:29) of the a second theme (1:11) which is at first simply idyllic lolling. The melodic line is very ornately decorated but Donohoe makes it sound a natural outpouring of the inner feeling, so you think of this as the beauty of detail. At the beginning of the development (5:08) congested left-hand chords make you think of the opening of the first movement. Here they are warmer, yet the right-hand melody seems elegiac and anxious. This is just for starters. From 5:37 a recurring figure rumbles in semiquaver triplets in the bass, very slowly rising in pitch establishing an unquiet atmosphere. Above it a melody of fragmentary but rising comments slowly falls in pitch. The hands change roles, a new recurring figure in the right hand speckled with octave leaps. The left-hand melody now has some more extended phrases but the emphasis is on descent and the bristling trills sound rather malignant. A second exchange of hands and disappearance of the trills calms things, yet the atmosphere stays troubled. Donohoe’s consistent lack of hurry makes this an oppressive, tormenting experience. Because of this, the recapitulation seems all the balmier, with the expanded ornaments in the second section sealing the euphoria.
Donohoe is admirably clear in his journey, yet I find him a bit literal in its presentation. Blackshaw, timing the movement at 11:37 to Donohoe’s 9:49, offers an Andante closer to Adagietto, but he might argue this unusually measured tempo is necessary to achieve cantabile and con espressione. You might feel Blackshaw is lost in his own world, but I’m happy to join him there. He’s quieter, more reflective, smoother in line, more intimate in melody and yes, I feel the music is cantabile, both exquisite and fragile. In the second theme’s second section, Blackshaw makes the fp accents nudges where Donohoe has heavier footfalls. Blackshaw does achieve more contrast in his tensely progressing development: his congested chords are more disturbing as are the recurring figures while the melody has more sense of plaintive outpouring. In his recapitulation you appreciate a return to unimpaired delicacy.
The finale is a sonata-rondo whose emphatically tragic mood makes me think of the finale of Symphony 40, if anything this one even more stark. The Presto restless propulsion of the melody, well displayed by Donohoe, is stoked by the quavers of the left hand and the later exchange of hands, with the melody in low tessitura, only makes the atmosphere grimmer. Meantime a second section in brighter, higher tessitura (tr. 9, 0:13) has attempted escape, but in doing so only illumines the tension prevailing. More successful is the sudden relief of a trio in A major (1:29), as if the ghost of the idyllic material in the slow movement has briefly returned. The concentration of its contrapuntal intricacy and variety of its desperate harmonic re-colourings underscore its dramatic power right up to its starkly tragic close.
Blackshaw, timing the finale at 2:38 to Donohoe’s 3:09, gives a more disturbing impression of a deranged soul, so you concentrate on that, not as with Donohoe, the quality of the music. Blackshaw’s greater emphasis on dynamic contrast brings first a soft distress and then sudden bursts of loud, angry distraction. You admire Donohoe’s energy but pity the distraught Blackshaw. When his right has the running quavers it’s like spitting fire. His trio is a mirage hastily swimming across the consciousness.
Lastly on Donohoe’s CD, the Rondo in A minor, nine years later in Mozart’s short life and a first surprise is to have a Rondo in a minor key. The singer of this rondo theme is, from the outset, out of sorts. There’s an attempt at recovery in the second statement (tr. 10, 0:24), ah, that’s better, but how quickly and deftly by Mozart and Donohoe is the falling back into the original straitjacket. Not a good metaphor, as the sorrow is more pervasive than that. However, you’ll already have noticed two key ingredients. Firstly, a plethora of ornamentation, presented by Donohoe as intrinsic to the expression and not an excess of zeal, because all the appoggiaturas, turns, trills and demisemiquavers are written into the score by Mozart. Secondly, chromaticism as an integral element, an inescapable aspect of expression. So, while the first episode (1:27) brings some relief in its freer and more flowing ‘alto part’ semiquavers, the chromaticism brings a sad colouring even to what seems initially the contemplation of a calmer environment. The episode latterly becomes more rhetorical, the chromaticism cooler and more insistent so that the brief return of just the first statement of the rondo theme is now itself the relief. The second episode, with the key change to A major (3:59), is a sudden panacea that seems like a make-believe, euphoria skipping in semiquaver triplets. But this undergoes a transformation, its second part moving through a lower, more polite, measured tessitura and then back to a higher one yet with a cooler perspective, one that Donohoe nevertheless reveals to be of a refreshing nature. The salve, however, loses its effectiveness, the triplets having exhausted their usefulness just like the end of any virtuosity and the final return of the rondo theme seems sadder, more querulous in its increased ornamentation, ending with just the opening phrase floating in the bitter ripples of a chromatic lake.
I compare the 1988 recording by Vladimir Horowitz (Deutsche Grammophon 4778827) which, timing at 8:06 is even a faster Andante than Donohoe’s 8:50. Horowitz’s opening rondo statement is softer, more inward, while his second statement is a more contrasted outward one, as if the same character has two lives and a similar contrast comes with the first episode, yet its rhetorical phase towards the end is treated reflectively. Horowitz’s approach is more full-blooded than Donohoe’s with many of the ornamented phrases displayed as characteristic gestures. With subtle rubato Horowitz creates at once a feel of fluency and spontaneity in seamless phrasing and presentation of moods, glorying in Mozart’s artifice. You feel this is just how Mozart might have played. Yet ultimately Horowitz’s is a dazzling display more to admire than be able to concentrate on, the latter Donohoe invites. And I like Donohoe’s still swift yet slightly slower Andante: it’s conversational, these feelings and mood swings are to be considered and faced as part of existence, not a matter for spotlit drama. There’s something of the latter about another classic recording, that made in 1967 by Vladimir Ashkenazy (Decca 4758052) which, timing at 10:04 and only just about Andante, has a stately concentration and rounded, sad beauty, performed with exquisite trimness.
How then should I sum up Donohoe’s Mozart on this CD? His playing is as varied as Mozart’s music: now intricate, now clear, now firm and often vivid. His sensitivity to Mozart’s music and identification of its quality is multifaceted, attending to changes of mood, of tempo, phrasing and character and judging the place of ornamentation. You know you’re in safe hands. More than that, Donohoe’s Mozart is well considered and satisfying.
Michael Greenhalgh
