Tag Archives: Johannes Brahms

In concert – Piotr Anderszewski @ The Barbican: Beethoven, Brahms, Bartók & J.S. Bach

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Piotr Anderszewski (piano, above)

Beethoven 6 Bagatelles, Op.126 (1823)
Brahms Intermezzos (1892-93) – Opp.119/1 & 3; Op.118/1 & 2; Op.117/2; 118/6
Bartók 14 Bagatelles BB50 (1908)
J.S. Bach Partita no.1 in B flat major BWV825 (1726)

Barbican Hall, London
Thursday 3 October 2024

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse. Photo © MG de Saint Venant licenced to Virgin Classics

Expecting the unexpected is the most predictable aspect of a recital from Piotr Anderszewski, tonight’s programme no exception in its juxtaposing collection by Beethoven and Bartók with a selection from Brahms and music by Bach that has long been a cornerstone of his repertoire.

Alive to their iconoclastic flourishes and improvisatory asides, Beethoven’s last bagatelles yet emerged as a cohesive and integrated unity as it ventured through limpid musing and angular playfulness then disarming elegance before arriving at a propulsive take on the B minor Presto muscular or energetic by turns. The final two numbers were of a piece with what went before – the one understated and the other’s ingratiation bookended by outbursts of grating humour. Nothing to be taken for granted in this music, then, as Anderszewski intimated only too well.

Although published as four separate collections, there is no reason why Brahms’s late piano pieces cannot be given separately or in autonomous groupings as here. Starting with Op. 119, Anderszewski brought a confiding touch to the plaintive B minor Intermezzo and rendered the lilting syncopation of that in C with real playfulness. Turning next to Op. 118 and the forlorn quality of its A minor Intermezzo complemented ably that in A, whose new-found popularity need not detract from its harmonic subtlety or soulful poise. From Op. 117, the B flat minor Intermezzo struck note of ingrained fatalism intensified by that in E flat minor from Op. 118 – its ‘mesto’ marking here underlined as the music unfolded toward an endpoint of unforced resignation. Anderszewski looked regretful it should end so before duly leaving the platform.

As his recent recording confirms, Anderszewski has forged unerring identity with the Op. 6 Bagatelles where Bartók gave notice of his fast-emerging individuality. Played with minimal pauses (albeit with a 3-3-2-2-2-2 grouping such as brought these into line with the six pieces in each of those other sets), they offer a conspectus of possibilities over his ensuing creative decade that was to the fore here, alongside a cumulative focus evident less in any increasing technical demands as in a gradual opening-out of their emotional world made explicit in the final two numbers as doubtless stems from Bartók’s unrequited love for violinist Stefi Geyer. Thus, the sombre restlessness of Elle est morte merged directly into the valse Ma mie qui danse – this latter’s vicious irony maintained right through to its almost dismissive pay-off.

Had Bach ever entertained any such feelings, they were certainly far removed from the keen objectivity of his First Partita. A little restive in its Praeludium, Anderszewski hit his stride in its gently eddying Allemande then animated Courante. There was no lack of gravitas in its Sarabande, but this was as deftly inflected as was the elegance of its contrasted Menuet dances, then the Gigue made a dextrous yet assertive conclusion to a sequence where (as in everything heard tonight) what was made possible outweighs what had already been achieved.

It would have been possible to combine these works with other pieces – maybe some or even all of Ligeti’s Musica ricercata that Anderszewski will hopefully play at a future recital. For now, a limpid reading of Chopin’s Mazurka in A flat major (Op.58/2) made for an ideal envoi.

To read more on Piotr Anderszewski, visit his website

Published post no.2,321 – Friday 4 October 2024

Summer serenades: Brahms #2

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This Sunday Arcana returns to the serenades of Brahms – his first orchestral works. Having fallen under the charms of the Serenade no.1 in D major, we give you the chance to enjoy the slighter but equally enjoyable Serenade no.2 in A major, completed in 1860 and published as Op.16:

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Published post no.2,267 – Sunday 11 August 2024

In concert – Mary Bevan, CBSO / Edward Gardner: Schubert – Symphony no.9 & Songs

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Mary Bevan (soprano), City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra / Edward Gardner

Schubert
Rosamunde D797 – No. 3b, Romanze (1823)
Der Erlkönig D328 (1815, orch. Berlioz 1860)
Die Forelle D550 (1816, orch. Britten 1942)
Im Abendrot D799 (1825, orch. Reger 1914)
Geheimes D719 (1821, orch. Brahms, 1862)
Symphony no.9 in C major D944 ‘Great’ (1825-6, rev. 1828)

Symphony Hall, Birmingham
Wednesday 17 May 2024

Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Pictures by Benjamin Ealovega (Ed Gardner), Victoria Cadisch (Mary Bevan)

July concerts no longer a consistent fixture in the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra’s schedule, it made sense to end the current season with the intended programme for the fourth and final volume of this orchestra’s Schubert cycle with former chief guest conductor Edward Gardner.

If not his final such project, the ‘Great’ was the final symphony that Schubert finished and the culminating orchestral work of his last decade. Now, as almost two centuries ago, it is not an easy work to being off – but this account hit the ground running with a flowing yet purposeful introduction that elided seamlessly with the initial Allegro. Gardner kept momentum on a sure yet flexible rein over those impetuous and capricious themes of its exposition; underlining the subtly eddying tension of its development and a propulsive coda whose link-up with the tempo of that introduction was marred only by the too emphatic final gesture. Respectively plaintive or consoling, the Andante’s alternate episodes were brought into eloquent accord – the fanfare -riven anguish at its climax then the stark fatalism towards its close being especial highlights.

The essential link between the scherzos of Beethoven and Bruckner, the third movement had the right buoyancy but also a suavity in keeping with the Viennese character of its dance-like themes, and complemented by those of its trio whose lilting elegance were tinged by wistful regret. Launched with a commanding call-to-attention, the Finale did not lack for vigour but, unlike so many performances, Gardner was mindful not to rush either here or in the capering second theme whose relentless string accompaniment was vividly rendered. The development more than fulfilled its purpose as an extended transition into the reprise, then the coda opened with a frisson of anticipation such as underpinned the closing pages as they powered towards the decisive but never headlong close to what was a convincing and engrossing performance.

Regarding repeats, Gardner observed that of the first movement’s exposition but not those in the second half during either scherzo or trio, and that of the finale’s exposition. This at least made matters easier for the players, and left options open for their inclusion in the recording.

That forthcoming release on Chandos will hopefully find room for the five songs that formed the first half of this concert, with each of them arranged by a different composer. The pensive Romanze from Schubert’s incidental music to Rosamunde was heard in the composer’s own orchestration, with the compact psychodrama of Der Erlkōnig in a resourceful and nowadays overlooked orchestration by Berlioz. The looping but not always ingratiating playfulness of Die Forelle was expertly attended to by Britten, while the pensive soulfulness of Im Abendrot summoned an appropriate response from Reger; the sombre resignation of Geheimnis making for a welcome encore in its orchestration by Brahms. Throughout the selection, Mary Bevan’s veracity of emotional response and her clarity of enunciation were qualities worth savouring.

This programme may have concluded the Schubert cycle by Gardner and the CBSO, though hopefully it will not see of this partnership in recorded terms – the symphonies of Schumann, and maybe Brahms, being well worth considering as additions to the orchestra’s discography.

For details on the 2024-25 season A Season of Joy, head to the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra website. Click on the names to read more about soprano Mary Bevan and conductor Edward Gardner

Published post no.2,243 – Thursday 18 July 2024

Another serenade for an early summer evening…

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…this time in the form of one of the most charming works by Johannes Brahms, his Serenade no.1 in D major. An early work – published as Op.11 – it is full of good tunes and has a sunny disposition. Here it is in a performance on period instruments, with the Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra conducted by Nicholas McGegan:

Published post no.2,211 – Sunday 16 June 2024

In concert – Geneva Lewis & Georgijs Osokins @ Wigmore Hall: Brahms, Scarlatti & Elgar

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Geneva Lewis (violin, above) and Georgijs Osokins (piano, below)

Brahms Violin Sonata no.2 in A major Op.100 (1886)
Domenico Scarlatti Sonata in D minor Kk213
Elgar Violin Sonata in E minor Op.82 (1918)

Wigmore Hall, London
Monday 20 May 2024 (1pm)

by Ben Hogwood

The Violin Sonata no.2 is one of Brahms‘s chamber music perennials, a popular recital fixture – but in this recital from BBC New Generation Artist Geneva Lewis and Latvian pianist Georgijs Osokins it was as though the work had received a fresh coat of paint.

The tempo marking Brahms applied to the first movement, Allegro amabile, is seldom found in classical music – ‘amabile’ meaning ‘lovely’. That was certainly the case in this performance, though Lewis and Osokins took a much slower tempo than is the norm. Their daring approach succeeded, however, for the melodic phrasing blossomed, the spring-like main tune given plenty of room to shine. The second theme was laid bare, but again the slow tempo allowed for greater insight, followed attentively by the Wigmore Hall audience.

The dynamic range of both players was also notable, Lewis very much aware of her surroundings in the quiet passages, the audience subconsciously leaning in to the music. At points the music was so quiet that Osokins’ pedalling could be heard…but conversely the pair were not afraid to put the pedal down and play out, as they did in the finale. In between came a tender and affectionate middle movement, its dreamy opening certainly tranquillo, before a most appealing central vivace section.

Elgar’s Violin Sonata was completed when the composer had just turned 60 – and although he would live for another 16 years, very few major works followed. To hear the sonata played by performers in their twenties was eye-opening indeed, with more youthful elements of the piece revealed and a different light shed on a work that often has autumnal reflections to cast.

The first movement was notable for its commanding first paragraph, Lewis setting the tone for the movement as she became immersed in Elgar’s broad phrasing. Osokins, for his part, mastered the full piano textures most impressively, before both performers drew back for a thoughtful second theme. The second movement became a fascinating mini-ballet between the two instruments, its shadowy colours a clue to the composer’s darker thoughts, though the bittersweet melodies were given extra charm by the dance-inflected rhythms.

The finale took flight immediately, the violin surging forward with penetrating melodies that led to a sense of sunlight breaking through the clouds in the closing phrases, Elgar allowing his thoughts to brighten as the music turned to the major key. The imaginatively chosen encore capitalised on this, Lewis and Osokins giving us the rustic finale of Busoni’s Violin Sonata no.2 in E minor, music which might have passed for one of Brahms’s Hungarian-influenced works were it not for some particularly scrunchy harmonies.

In between the two big sonatas, Osokins (above) had the chance to shine alone, one he took with a profound account of one of Domenico Scarlatti‘s many keyboard sonatas. The Sonata in D minor Kk213 is a bittersweet piece, a reminder of how forward looking this composer’s music can. Rooted in the 18th century it may be, but in reality we could have been listening to a Satie Gnossienne, especially with Osokins’ poetic licence drawing out the final harmonic resolution.

Published post no.2,184 – Monday 20 May 2024