Wreck In The Sea of Ice by Caspar David Friedrich (c1797)
Piano Sonata no.6 in F major Op.10/2 for piano (1798, Beethoven aged 27)
1 Allegro
2 Allegretto
3 Presto
Dedication Countess Anna Margarete von Browne
Duration 19′
Listen
Background and Critical Reception
The three piano sonatas Op.10 were published in 1798, dedicated to Countess Anna Margarete von Browne. As Daniel Heartz notes, ‘women continued to garner most of his dedications of works for keyboard, as was the case with Mozart and Haydn’.
In contrast to the first sonata of the set, in C minor, the F major piece is admired as the joker. Lewis Lockwood says, ‘There is a lot to say about the capacity of the Sonata Opus 10 no.2 in F major to make much from little, a very strong Beethovenian feature. Thus the first two notes of the opening figure suffice to generate much of the later thematic content while always relating back to this germ idea.’
Writing in The Beethoven Companion, Harold Truscott enjoys the composer’s humour in the outer movements and the reflective second, describing the piece as ‘a completely individual masterpiece’. Angela Hewitt, meanwhile, agrees with Daniel Heartz that the second movement ‘minuet’ is…’not very dance-like’, and notes the fusion of Haydn’s wit and Bach’s counterpoint in the finale, ‘but with an exuberance typical of the young Beethoven’.
Thoughts
This is a sonata to put a smile on your face. The playful start introduces the ‘peek-a-boo’ characteristics of the first movement, which is also a great example of Beethoven’s use of silence. It feels like there are several characters playing a game in the first movement. The first comes out in the cheeky and slightly timid opening phrase; the second is more assertive, with many more notes. Beethoven develops his material with freedom, taking it on a tour of several keys, before returning home.
The second movement is deeper in thought, a single stream of consciousness in the minor key that proves a very effective reflection, with some spicy chords. The third movement sounds like it is going to be a fugue, or a Bach invention, but it doesn’t end up that way – and Beethoven returns to playing games, if not quite as mischievously as before.
Recordings used and Spotify links
Emil Gilels (Deutsche Grammophon) Alfred Brendel (Philips) András Schiff (ECM) Angela Hewitt (Hyperion) Paul Badura-Skoda (Arcana) Stephen Kovacevich (EMI) Igor Levit (Sony Classical)
The best accounts of this sonata are (in my opinion) the ones that bring the humour to the front. Angela Hewitt has some lovely characterisation in her first movement, where the timid and detached phrases are countered by rich, flowing episodes. Paul Badura-Skoda’s fortepiano has a crisp attack, particularly in the first movement.
Perhaps the most effective account is that of András Schiff, who successfully combines the humour and Beethoven’s invention from small cells, a reading that keeps the listener hanging.
The playlist below accommodates all the versions described above except that by Angela Hewitt:
You can hear clips of Hewitt’s recording at the Hyperion website
You can chart the Arcana Beethoven playlist as it grows, with one recommended version of each piece we listen to. Catch up here!
Also written in 1798 HaydnMissa in Angustiis (Nelson Mass)
Neil Cowley describes his first solo record as ‘his most personal album yet’. It is perhaps inevitable, given the record is his first going it alone after more than a dozen in the company of others, either as the Neil Cowley Trio or earlier as half of chillout duo Fragile State. Yet while Cowley is fully aware of using the ‘most personal’ cliché, it is wholly true. Hall Of Mirrors is all about his love-hate relationship with the piano, which he places centrestage.
What’s the music like?
Although the piano is at the heart of everything, this is no set of display pieces. In fact Hall Of Mirrors is a very quiet and extremely intimate album, drawing the listener in through its lack of volume but making deeply personal music along the way.
Around the piano sit elements of Cowley’s career to date, so at times that means lush, expansive textures that bring to mind the work of Fragile State, while delicate touches and hints of syncopated rhythms draw links to the Neil Cowley Trio.
Cowley’s piano lines unfold naturally, dressed with atmospheric touches. It only takes a couple of seconds for opening track Prayer to set the scene, with an ambling line unfolding through a cushioned piano sound. The piano timbre is beautifully done, giving a sound both old and new at the same time, which we hear again on She Lives In Golden Sands.
Berlin Nights has a nice perspective, the close up piano more staccato this time but complemented with atmospheric noises around. There are some nice touches like the sticks on the cymbals in Just Above It All, while Suadade is rather special, with chimes and what sounds like a funfair in the distance as Cowley’s contemplative music moves slowly in the foreground.
Perhaps the most personal music lies in the middle, the slow moving and withdrawn Time Interrupted, or the soft heartbeat that runs beneath Stand Amid The Roar. Both are lovely episodes for quality time out on the part of the listener.
Does it all work?
Yes. Hall Of Mirrors is knitted together beautifully, and its blend of intimacy and wider comfort is ideally balanced. The music is simple and from the heart – there are no chillout clichés in evidence and Cowley doesn’t work his source material too much, allowing it to speak for itself.
Is it recommended?
Yes, without hesitation. Cowley’s most personal album to date is certainly that – a heartfelt and inventive biography of his musical exploits to date.
8 Variations on ‘Une fièvre brûlante’ from Grétry’s Richard Coeur de Lion, WoO 72 for piano (1795-98, Beethoven aged 27)
Dedication Countess Anna Margarete von Browne
Duration 7′
written by Ben Hogwood
Listen
What’s the theme like?
The theme is a duet from André Grétry’s opera Richard Coeur de Lion, and it is an aria for the soprano playing Marguerite. It is sung in this clip – one of the very few available – by a tenor:
Background and Critical Reception
Jean-Charles Hoffelé, writing about Beethoven’s variations in the booklet note for Cécile Ousset’s rather wonderful recordings of many of the variations for Decca France, saw the beginning of a new stylistic phase in the composer’s variations on Wranitzky’s Das Waldmädchen, finished in the year prior to this work and recently covered by our listening.
These variations, on an aria from Grétry’s Richard Coeur de Lion, he says, ‘confirm this trend. Variations? No, more like an opera for piano with harmonies that Schumann would not have disavowed, with characters and a stage, and with a vast range of mood and a sense of Beethoven enjoying creating contrasts all the way to a finale that has the kind of euphoria found again in the denouement of Fidelio. This is a major collection, but one that pianists are unfamiliar with’.
That much is certainly true, for I was unable to find any other notes about the collection, not even in Deutsche Grammophon’s Complete Beethoven edition.
Thoughts
The first variation has an idly wandering right hand, the second even more so as the chromatic approach starts to bear fruit. Variation 3 takes off at quite a lick, the melody dressed with so many ornaments that it is barely recognisable, before the fourth variation straightens the smile and takes us into the minor key.
The sixth variation is a stern march, with extra dressing from the right hand, but Beethoven saves the real surprises and fireworks for the end. A flurry of notes in C major sound like the accompaniment to a comedy silent film before the music suddenly stops and takes a sideways glance into A flat major. A very pensive mood is set, but only briefly, for Beethoven wrenches us back ‘home’ with a quickfire finish.
Recordings used and Spotify links
John Ogdon (piano) (EMI) Gianluca Cascioli (piano) (Deutsche Grammophon) Cécile Ousset (piano) (Eloquence) Ronald Brautigam (fortepiano) (BIS)
The Spotify playlist below includes all of the versions listed above. The Variations may not have been recorded a great deal on disc, but each of these four versions has considerable merit. Brautigam is upfront and full of character, while John Ogdon’s virtuosity is beyond reproach. Ousset brings a touch of elegance to her account, as does Cascioli, whose slightly reserved account of the theme serves him well when the variations really get going.
Also written in 1798Wranitzky Grande Sinfonie caracteristique in C minor Op.31
Wolfgang Koch (bass-baritone) Field Commander, Robert Brooks (tenor) Prince’s Shield Bearer, Ivan Urbas (bass) Head of the Council, Hae-Sang Hwang (soprano), Patricia Dewey (contralto), Wiener Konzertchor, ORF Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra / Friedrich Cerha
Egon Wellesz
Die Opferung des Gefangenen Op.40 (The Sacrifice of the Prisoner) (1924-5)
Capriccio C5423 [56’01”]
Producer Kurt Kindl
Engineer Hans Moralt
Recorded 24 March 1995 at Konzerthaus, Vienna (live peformance)
Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse
What’s the story?
Capriccio continues its coverage of Egon Wellesz (1885-1974) with this live recording of the stage-work Die Opferung des Gefangenen (The Sacrifice of the Prisoner), one of his most striking large-scale dramatic pieces from the inter-war era when he was established among Austria’s leading composers.
What’s the music like?
Although now most highly regarded for the orchestral and chamber works written while in exile after 1938 (settling in Oxford, he was made a fellow of Lincoln College and became a leading authority on Byzantine music and opera of the early Baroque), Wellesz was earlier best known for his theatrical works (four ballets and five operas) as were heard throughout German-speaking territories. Not least The Sacrifice of the Prisoner, first staged in Cologne on 2nd April 1926 and whose designation ‘opera-ballet’ indicates a hybrid conception that was very much in vogue during this period – composers as distinct as Stravinsky, Martinů, Milhaud and Weill all attempting something similar, whatever the differences in aesthetic.
With a scenario by Eduard Stucken, the work concerns the territorial (and, moreover, tribal) conflict between those peoples of Quiché and Rabinal – in what is present-day Guatemala – during the early 15th century. The action is unfolded in starkly ceremonial terms (Capriccio has not included an English translation of the libretto, but Hannes Heher’s detailed booklet provides more than sufficient context) such as leave little room for exploration of character or scenic evocation, yet this does not preclude (indeed, might have encouraged) a musical response as is both personal and affecting. Sample any of the five ‘Dances’ (tracks 6, 8, 11, 13 and 15) to hear Wellesz opening out its expressive ambit in striking and evocative ways.
After the Cologne premiere, there were stagings at Magdeburg in 1927 and Berlin in 1930, before the advent of the Third Reich made further performances impossible. This account, still the only one from the post-war era, was of a concert presentation given in Vienna just over a quarter-century ago and conveys this work’s hieratic power as well as its emotional pathos in gratifying measure. Perhaps a future DVD release of a full staging will yet reveal even more of its dramatic potency, but no-one with even a passing interest in the theatrical possibilities of what was arguably the most innovative decade from the last century should pass up the opportunity to encounter what is much more than just a fascinating period piece.
Does it all work?
It does, and not least for reasons such as might have irked its composer – Wellesz’s invoking of a highly stylized and ritualistic theatre being not that far removed from what his younger German contemporary Carl Orff was working towards at around this time. There are fervent contributions by Wolfgang Koch and Robert Brooks among the vocalists, while chorus and orchestra respond with comparable dedication to Friedrich Cerha who, whether as composer, conductor, or administrator, has left an indelible mark on post-war Austrian musical culture.
Is it recommended?
Indeed, allowing this music will not appeal to all tastes. Those new to Wellesz may prefer to start with the earlier of his nine symphonies (CPO) or Capriccio’s release of his concertos for violin and piano (C67181), but no-one hearing the present piece will likely be left unmoved.
For further information on this release, and to purchase, visit the Capricciowebsite. For more on Egon Wellesz, the composer’s website is a helpful resource.
With an almost complete absence of live music in Europe currently, online concerts are a relative godsend – provided you are willing to stare at the same screen you might have used for work earlier in the day. With this in mind, Arcana took the opportunity to visit the Berliner Philharmoniker’s Digital Concert Hall, with the purpose of watching the orchestra’s Golden Twenties festival.
This celebration of one of the most vibrant artistic periods in Berlin’s history centred on the instrumental music of Kurt Weill (above), with imaginative repertoire choices putting his music into a helpful and contrasting context. His teacher Busoni featured briefly, along with Hindemith, Eisler and Richard Strauss.
More of Strauss later, but having reviewed the first concert – with a fine Berlin premiere performance of Weill’s First Symphony – Arcana watched the symphonic sequel with the Karajan Academy of the Berliner Philharmoniker, energetically directed by Marie Jacquot (below).
Their programme included two fine Weill pieces but began with the Suite no.3 for orchestra by Hanns Eisler. For a composer whose songs feature relatively often in recital, Eisler’s orchestral music is scarcely heard. This is a shame because it is packed with good tunes and more than a dash of humour – which Suite no.3 enjoyed. This brisk, and in some cases brusque piece, had an appealing and gritty determination, with elements of the baroque toccata in its forward momentum. The instrumentation is that of a band rather than an orchestra, with guitar and snare drums taking prominent roles, which also appeals – and the playful rondo worked well, even though it could have had more of a smile on its face. There was excellent musicianship in this bittersweet account, topped by the muted trumpet of a soft-hearted intermezzo.
Weill’s Violin Concerto was next, a substantial work written for soloist and wind orchestra – but with no strings, an innovative set-up predating Stravinsky’s own work for piano and winds. The baleful clarinets in the opening statement reflected the composer’s feelings on the passing of his teacher, Feruccio Busoni. As the movement got into gear the movement was more mechanical, driven on by soloist Kolja Blacher (above), with considerable tension at the end of the first movement. A more playful second movement nocturne ensued, with pinpoint xylophone contributions, before an authoritative cadenza and an affecting Serenata with a high line. Blacher was particularly impressive here, technically secure throughout and broadly expressive. The finale had a strong sense of purpose, again superbly marshalled by Jacquot. A poignant pause ensued but was followed by a headlong rush into the closing pages, the soloist at the wheel, and the orchestra superb in their pithy contributions.
Weill’s Second Symphony followed the interval, a substantial piece which actually received its premiere in Amsterdam in 1934. With a tighter grip on the musical material than the first, it features an economical use of the orchestra. Here there were lovely solos from the woodwind but with a good deal of forward momentum and bite to the strings. Ensemble was tautly defined throughout, and there was a nice element of humour in the unexpectedly jaunty theme for the Largo second movement. Impassioned cello and flute solos led to an intense apex of feeling in the middle. Jacquot, whose conducting was clear and sprightly throughout, urged the players on in a tightly controlled third movement, with bustling rhythms and a longer, meaningful trumpet solo before a quick rush to finish a really excellent concert.
Due to Coronavirus a few adjustments had to be made to the third concert. Replacing Sir Donald Runnicles as the conductor was Thomas Søndergård (above), making his Berliner Philharmoniker debut – which as a result meant the substitution of works from Schreker, Berg and d’Albert with works by Sibelius and Prokofiev.
The scheduled Kurt Weill performance, the suite arranged by Wilhelm Brückner-Rüggeberg from The Rise and Fall Of The City Of Mahagonny, just about kept us in 1920s Berlin. Prior to that we heard the suite from Prokofiev’s opera The Love For Three Oranges, completed in 1919. Prokofiev’s music of this period is all about energy, dissonance and wit, and Søndergård was great to watch as he brought these qualities to the fore in music we seldom hear live nowadays. There was a satisfying heft to the orchestral sound, and while the performance could have gone even further with its sardonic wit, the turbulent finale was very well done, as was a keenly felt slow movement with richly textured strings.
Søndergård specialises in the music of Sibelius, and the Sixth Symphony is one of the Berliners’ most-performed symphonies from his output. This account had sumptuous sound and control as its principal merits, a compelling beginning cutting to an exceptionally fluid faster movement. Similarly the second movement, with a wavelike profile, had wonderful sound, while the scherzo was notable for its clear as spring textures. In the finale the conductor’s use of silence proved key, as did Sibelius’ notes themselves of course. Conducted with passion, this was a satisfying account with a reverent ending.
By this time the ear was yearning for the festival’s main character, Kurt Weill – and the smaller band used for The Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny gave us the highlights of the concert. Weill does not tend to feature in Søndergård’s repertoire, so one wonders how long he had to learn it – but he was inside the score with obvious enjoyment, allowing the players to express themselves and encouraging them to play with the tempo stylishly. Trombone and alto sax were excellent in the Moderato assai section, while the interlocking brass in the Molto vivace made a beautiful sound. The final Largo held most of the emotional cards, however, with a driven march bringing us home convincingly.
Christian Thielemann took charge of the fourth concert, a nicely weighted combination of the familiar and the unlikely. Thielemann does much for the Hindemith cause, and the composer’s Neues vom Tage overture was a bracing opener in concert form, laced with humour and packed with melodic interest.
Busoni was an inspired choice, a composer who remains difficult to pin down and who still sounds on the edge of modernity. His Tanzwalz, a colourful tribute to Johann Strauss II, has persuasive rhythms, spicy added notes and rich orchestral textures, which the orchestra thoroughly enjoyed. Thielemann’s conducting enhanced the rhythmic profile and the dance elements of the piece – as it did in the complementary Künstlerleben that followed. The violins really sang in the Busoni, as did the cellos towards the start of the Johann Strauss.
Richard Strauss followed, Camilla Nylund replacing Diana Damrau for a set of typically songs. These were well chosen, ranging from the fervent singing of Ständchen to the walking pace of the serene Wiegenlied, where the orchestra added nicely pointed counterpoint to Nylund’s expressive vibrato. Allerseelen was passionately sung, as was Morgen, with the necessary restraint and a beautiful duet between singer and solo violinist, unfortunately not credited.
We had a choral curiosity from Strauss to finish, the Berliner Philharmoniker’s second ever performance of Die Tageszeiten, published as the composer’s Op.76 in 1928. Written for male chorus and orchestra, this comparatively late work sets four sections of the day, as described by poet and regular Strauss collaborator Joseph Eichendorff in his Wanderlieder.
The men of the Rundfunkchor Berlin used the Philharmonie imaginatively, distanced across the stalls above the orchestra, who sat at much closer proximity thanks to their regular testing regime. The piece began with a call to arms, full of spring vigour, before the warm sunbeams breathed calm on the slower Afternoon Rest, which became increasingly chromatic. The wind was a more obvious presence in Evening, depicted by rollng timpani and restless orchestral figures, while Night made a beatific start, with some lovely singing from the men. The density increased but was tapered by a rather lovely unaccompanied chorale near the end, subsiding to a serene finish which was conducted with affection and satisfaction by Thielemann
While Coronavirus inevitably affected the content and artistic direction of The Golden Twenties, it still proved an interesting and stimulating festival, and it was especially satisfying to to see Kurt Weill’s instrumental music getting more of the recognition it surely deserves.
Concert 2
Eisler Suite for Orchestra no.3 Op.26 ‘Kuhle Wampe’ Weill Violin Concerto Op.12 Weill Symphony no.2
Konja Blacher (violin), Scholars of the Karajan Academy / Marie Jacquot
Concert 3
Prokofiev The Love for Three Oranges Suite Op.33bis Sibelius Symphony no.6 in D minor Op.104 Weill The Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny: Suite (arr. Wilhelm Brückner-Rüggeberg)
Berliner Philharmoniker / Thomas Søndergård
Concert 4
Hindemith Neues vom Tage (News of the Day), Overture from the Opera with Concert Ending Busoni Tanz-Walzer Op.53 Johann Strauss II Künstlerleben Op.316 Richard Strauss Ständchen Op.17/2; Freundliche Vision Op.48/1, Wiegenlied Op.41/1, Allerseelen Op.10/8, Zueignung Op.10/1, Morgen Op.27/4 Richard Strauss Die Tageszeiten Op.76
Camilla Nylund (soprano), Rundfunkchor Berlin, Berliner Philharmoniker / Thomas Søndergård
Ludwig van Beethoven and André Grétry (right)
Arcana.fm 