DISCS OF THE MONTH

Beethoven - Sonata in f minor, Op. 57 “Appassionata”
Lambert Orkis
Bridge 9169

CD

Unlike the many previous recordings of this favorite Beethoven work, this CD includes no other music. Orkis plays Opus 57 three times, on three different instruments in turn: a replica of a Viennese fortepiano of 1814-20; a modern Bösendorfer concert grand; and a second replica, also Viennese, after a model of circa 1830.
 
 
Heard in sequence with the modern grand, the two historic replicas illustrate sharp differences — wood, not steel, frames; leather, not felt, hammers. Beethoven’s score contains no specific indications for the soft pedal, but Orkis applies the device in the opening bars of the sonata and elsewhere in pianissimo passages; its silvery color in the fortepianos is perfect for the Appassionata’s wild contrasts. For the theme of the central Andante con moto variations, there is even something called a bassoon stop, an interesting period rattle perhaps veering towards quaintness. The sonata relishes the bunching of low bass notes into chords, especially at loud moments, and here the 1830 instrument offers surprising force and clarity. The equivalent effects on the modern piano are, of course, wonderfully resonant but require careful control: Orkis says he was surprised that his Bösendorfer performance was marginally slower than the other two.
 
Orkis is an experienced and versatile U.S. artist. He plays the sonata with a fine appreciation of its special expressive ambience, its insistence, and its exaggerated loud/soft swings. Appassionata was not the composer’s title, but “passionate” seems the right word for those terrific sweeps up and down the keyboard in movements 1 and 3, and for that whirling gypsy song just before the end. Orkis delivers it all with impressive precision, and follows Beethoven’s sometimes-eccentric pedal markings – with strikingly different results in the three instruments. However, his interpretation of movement 2’s tempo (Andante con moto = “moving along”) reduces this oasis of tranquility to mere plainness, at least in the fortepiano versions: the modern-piano performance inserts a few personal rubato touches.
 
All in all an uncommonly worthwhile release.
 
John Beckwith



Beethoven Sonatas at the Library of Congress
Henryk Szeryng; Gary Graffman
Bridge 9165

CD
 
These performances have been re-mastered from original Library of Congress LPs, recorded in the early 1970s. Henryk Szeryng is one of the great “worldly” Eastern European violinists, born near the beginning of the 20th century and deeply connecting music with life experience, especially during World War II. During his charmed upbringing near Warsaw, he studied with an assistant of Leopold Auer’s, knew Paderewski and eventually moved to Berlin to study with Carl Flesch. A few years later (early 1930s) he was in Paris, studying violin with Gabriel Bouillon and composition with Nadia Boulanger. He is quoted in the liner notes of this recording as saying “violinists should obtain a good general education, particularly in the humanities, in history, and languages. The study of music should include the sciences of acoustics and mathematics. Their musical education should include harmony, counterpoint, piano, orchestra, opera, etc. A violinist can learn a good deal from singers and from pianists.” Here, here.
 
Well, this recording, with its slightly inferior sound quality and rough edges, is a joy. Gary Graffman, a fine American pianist born in 1928, gives solid partnership in these remarkable pieces, but my biased ears keep turning to Szeryng. I’ve never heard the famous opening of the Kreutzer sonata played with such a magnificent mixture of technique and soul… and in fact the two become one throughout this recording. Szeryng’s expression through dazzling technique is intriguing and wholly satisfying to listen to.
 
That’s not to say the performances are not without their flaws. They’re live recordings, after all, with a certain “seat of the pants” excitement which occasionally elicits some bloopers, but these are wonderfully in the spirit of the whole thing. Ultimately, the genius of Beethoven shines through: what tremendous and deep insight that man had, and what a miracle it is that we are able to connect to it so fully and intimately in this very different day and age.
 
Larry Beckwith
 











WholeNote Discoveries DISCS OF THE MONTH

Beethoven - Sonata in f minor, Op. 57 “Appassionata”
Lambert Orkis
Bridge 9169

CD

Unlike the many previous recordings of this favorite Beethoven work, this CD includes no other music. Orkis plays Opus 57 three times, on three different instruments in turn: a replica of a Viennese fortepiano of 1814-20; a modern Bösendorfer concert grand; and a second replica, also Viennese, after a model of circa 1830.
 
 
Heard in sequence with the modern grand, the two historic replicas illustrate sharp differences — wood, not steel, frames; leather, not felt, hammers. Beethoven’s score contains no specific indications for the soft pedal, but Orkis applies the device in the opening bars of the sonata and elsewhere in pianissimo passages; its silvery color in the fortepianos is perfect for the Appassionata’s wild contrasts. For the theme of the central Andante con moto variations, there is even something called a bassoon stop, an interesting period rattle perhaps veering towards quaintness. The sonata relishes the bunching of low bass notes into chords, especially at loud moments, and here the 1830 instrument offers surprising force and clarity. The equivalent effects on the modern piano are, of course, wonderfully resonant but require careful control: Orkis says he was surprised that his Bösendorfer performance was marginally slower than the other two.
 
Orkis is an experienced and versatile U.S. artist. He plays the sonata with a fine appreciation of its special expressive ambience, its insistence, and its exaggerated loud/soft swings. Appassionata was not the composer’s title, but “passionate” seems the right word for those terrific sweeps up and down the keyboard in movements 1 and 3, and for that whirling gypsy song just before the end. Orkis delivers it all with impressive precision, and follows Beethoven’s sometimes-eccentric pedal markings – with strikingly different results in the three instruments. However, his interpretation of movement 2’s tempo (Andante con moto = “moving along”) reduces this oasis of tranquility to mere plainness, at least in the fortepiano versions: the modern-piano performance inserts a few personal rubato touches.
 
All in all an uncommonly worthwhile release.
 
John Beckwith



Beethoven Sonatas at the Library of Congress
Henryk Szeryng; Gary Graffman
Bridge 9165

CD
 
These performances have been re-mastered from original Library of Congress LPs, recorded in the early 1970s. Henryk Szeryng is one of the great “worldly” Eastern European violinists, born near the beginning of the 20th century and deeply connecting music with life experience, especially during World War II. During his charmed upbringing near Warsaw, he studied with an assistant of Leopold Auer’s, knew Paderewski and eventually moved to Berlin to study with Carl Flesch. A few years later (early 1930s) he was in Paris, studying violin with Gabriel Bouillon and composition with Nadia Boulanger. He is quoted in the liner notes of this recording as saying “violinists should obtain a good general education, particularly in the humanities, in history, and languages. The study of music should include the sciences of acoustics and mathematics. Their musical education should include harmony, counterpoint, piano, orchestra, opera, etc. A violinist can learn a good deal from singers and from pianists.” Here, here.
 
Well, this recording, with its slightly inferior sound quality and rough edges, is a joy. Gary Graffman, a fine American pianist born in 1928, gives solid partnership in these remarkable pieces, but my biased ears keep turning to Szeryng. I’ve never heard the famous opening of the Kreutzer sonata played with such a magnificent mixture of technique and soul… and in fact the two become one throughout this recording. Szeryng’s expression through dazzling technique is intriguing and wholly satisfying to listen to.
 
That’s not to say the performances are not without their flaws. They’re live recordings, after all, with a certain “seat of the pants” excitement which occasionally elicits some bloopers, but these are wonderfully in the spirit of the whole thing. Ultimately, the genius of Beethoven shines through: what tremendous and deep insight that man had, and what a miracle it is that we are able to connect to it so fully and intimately in this very different day and age.
 
Larry Beckwith