No. 189 of the ongoing ITYWLTMT series of audio montages can be found in our archives at https://archive.org/details/pcast189 |
=====================================================================
So far,
we’ve considered concertos in the spirit and context that took shape in the
Classical era – that is to say, pieces for soloist and orchestra.
The term
concerto, however, is literally “a concert”, and on the strictest of terms
needs not involve a soloist (or a small soloist group) and a larger orchestra.
Indeed, Johann Sebastian Bach composed a good number of “concertos” for solo
keyboard, some for organ and many for the harpsichord (later taken over by the
piano) – one such example is his Italian concerto
Today’s podcast takes a pleasant departure from the classical setting of the “solo concerto” and looks at a pair of – shall I say – mammoth pieces for solo keyboard that have earned the subtitle “concerto for solo piano”, beginning with a “cruelly taxing” piano work by Charles Alkan.
The three
pieces that make up this “concerto” are part of a 12 piece cycle entitled Douze
études dans tous les tons mineurs (12 Studies in the Minor Keys), published
in 1857 With sections marked "Tutti", "Solo" and
"Piano", the piece requires the soloist to present the voices of both
the orchestra and the soloist. The pianist Jack Gibbons comments: "The
style and form of the music take on a monumental quality—rich, thickly set
textures and harmonies ... conjure up the sound world of a whole orchestra and
tax the performer, both physically and mentally, to the limit."
How’s that
for sheer length: the piece, including all 3 movements, is 121 pages long and
takes about 50 minutes to perform. The first movement on its own, comprises 72
pages and takes over 29 minutes to play (Jack Gibbons comments that "the
first movement has more bars in it than the entire Hammerklavier Sonata by
Beethoven").
Alkan
authorized the piece to be truncated to make "un morceau de concert, d'une
durée ordinaire" (a concert piece of normal duration). It may be that the
composer himself performed the first movement (alone) in such a shortened
version. Pianist John Ogden, himself known for taking on obscure and taxing
works (such as Busoni’s Piano Concerto), is our soloist.
Robert
Schumann’s piano sonata output – and numbering – can be confusing. The Piano
Sonata in F♯ minor (Op. 11) and the Piano Sonata in F minor (Op. 14) are numbered 1
and 3 respectively. He he later wrote Three Piano Sonatas for the Young
Op. 118. Because it was published before the F minor sonata, it was given an
earlier sequence number (No. 2) but still kept its later opus number (Op. 22).
This has caused confusion, and recordings of the G minor Sonata have sometimes
been published as "Sonata No. 3". There was also an earlier sonata in
F minor, which Schumann abandoned; this is sometimes referred to as
"Sonata No. 4".
The Dritte
grosse Sonate, Opus 14, was completed a year after the first, in June 1836,
and dedicated to the pianist Ignaz Moscheles, and not to Clara Wleck (whom he
would later marry). This is probably indicative of the tense relationship
between the couple and Clara’s father.
In F minor,
the work was first published with only three of its original five movements,
which had first included two scherzos and a different finale. Schumann revised
the sonata in 1853, including the second of the two scherzos and revising the
first movement. Due to its length and complexity it earned, presumably at the
instigation of its publisher Haslinger, the subtitle Concert sans orchestre.
The sonata was given its first public performance six years after Schumann’s
death by Brahms, while no listing of the sonata is found in any of the
programmes of Clara’s own concerts. It is performed today by Vladimir Horowitz.
I think you will love this music too.
No comments:
Post a Comment