beethoven's 32 piano sonatas robert silverman - Music on Main

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Sonata No. 28 in A, Op. 101 composed 1816, published 1817 Op. 101 was Beethoven’s first truly substantial <strong>piano</strong> sonata following the Appassionata of 1805. Stylistically, this work and the two Op. 102 cello <strong>sonatas</strong> are so far removed from any of his previous compositions that one can argue that it is these three works that usher in his “late period.” Forms are unorthodox, or unorthodoxically placed within the sonata. His earlier efforts to combine and relate individual movements now reach fruition in a single, organicallyunified composition. Beethoven was never a stranger to contrapuntal writing, but from this piece onward, pervasive, imitative polyphony would henceforth become an integral part of his style. Although virtuosity of the sort found in the Waldstein or the Appassionata is assiduously avoided, the uncompromising, and largely unpianistic, writing makes Op. 101 one of the most difficult of his <strong>sonatas</strong> to play. In the leisurely first movement, although one can find features of standard sonata form, the characteristic element of contrast is totally missing. Sections blend together seamlessly. Even the opening measures give the illusion that the piece has already been going on for a while, much as if we had happened upon a conversation already in progress 4 . The old-fashioned minuet had earlier surrendered its place in a sonata or symphony to the faster scherzo; however, even the scherzo has been banished in Op. 101. Instead, the second movement is a jerky, gnarly, heavily contrapuntal march. The middle Trio provides welcome contrast in mood and density, but it too relies on contrapuntal writing, taking the anachronistic form of a canon (and consequently resembling a two-part invention that Bach would have made his students throw into the waste-basket). A relatively brief Adagio follows, contemplative and sparse, forecasting the tragic vision that would characterize those awesome slow movements that were to come in his last works. It too seems to begin in mid-stream, and soon begins to meander harmonically, getting a bit lost in the process. In its wanderings, it arrives unexpectedly at a re-statement of the opening measures of the sonata. But this is not where we should be at this point and Beethoven quickly breaks off the quotation. Still, the question of what to do next remains. While pondering those last three notes of the previous phrase with increasing agitation he suddenly sees his way out of his predicament, and while the right hand is occupied with long trills, the left hand delivers a pair of one-two combination punches that lead directly into the Finale. The problem of finding a finale appropriate to what has gone before, as well as a convincing way of introducing it, occupied Beethoven increasingly throughout his career. Some critics believe that his rate of success in this regard is somewhat less than 100 percent, but in Op. 101 he succeeds beyond question. The jubilant fourth movement’s centerpiece is an intense, thumb-twisting fugue. Beginning quietly and ominously, it piles one voice on top of another, building without respite to an almost unbearable degree of tension, before returning triumphantly to the main theme. Just as masterful is the Coda. It begins very much like the opening of the fugue, but Beethoven is just toying with our expectations. He suddenly changes course, and winds down the excitement, forcing the pianist to pretend he is a string quartet in the process. Then, when all is at a standstill, Beethoven delivers a final knockout blow, bringing the sonata to an abrupt conclusion. 4 So seamlessly does the first movement follow the final measures of the previous sonata (No. 27) that perhaps, in an offbeat way, it has been going on for a while! Just possibly, this is another of Beethoven’s attempts, in his later works, to elucidate his creative process: in this case, he could consciously be guiding us from his previous world into his new one. <strong>Music</strong> on Main presents Silverman plays Beethoven. September 27, 2010 – April 5, 2011 at the Cellar Restaurant & Jazz Club. www.musiconmain.ca Programme notes by Robert Silverman. © Robert Silverman
Sonata No. 29 in B-flat Major, Op. 106 “Hammerklavier” composed 1816-17, published 1819 In addition to the Hammerklavier’s 5 enormous demands upon a performer’s technique and his/her powers of concentration, the work also poses unusual problems for the serious interpreter. It was published in both Vienna and London under Beethoven’s supervision, but the autograph has never been found. Unfortunately, the two sources contain many divergent readings, sometimes in important places. There is also an incomprehensible reversal of the order of second and third movements in the London edition. Ironically, the area of tempo, where Beethoven ostensibly went out of his way to be as explicit as possible, is equally problematic. Although Op. 106 is the only <strong>piano</strong> sonata with metronome indications, some of these markings are simply ludicrous. Pianists who can manage the first movement at the proscribed 138 to the halfnote (I freely admit to not being among them) succeed only in making as strong a case as possible against the validity of such a notion 6 . Even if Beethoven’s primitive metronome was accurate, two other facts must be taken into consideration. Composers often “hear” their music faster than anyone else: they do not require the time the rest of us need to absorb it because they have digested it so thoroughly during the process of creating it. Furthermore, with Beethoven now virtually deaf, it is likely that he had lost the spatial sense that music requires in order to be cogent, and for its nuances to be adequately conveyed. It is commonly known that the Hammerklavier is by far his longest sonata. This is due mostly to the vast landscape of the slow movement. The outer movements are only moderately lengthy, while the Scherzo is one of his briefest creations. The piece is also sonically huge, sounding extraordinarily symphonic. 7 There is no sidestepping the fact that the Hammerklavier is also as tough, gnarled, and uncompromising as anything Beethoven wrote, except perhaps for the Grosse Fuge. Above all, it is relentlessly obsessive. A single interval, the third, permeates all the movements at the motivic, melodic and harmonic levels. In fact, that interval forms the basis of virtually every principal theme in the sonata. Similarly, although the dominant note F might be expected to play a key role, with large-scale areas of the piece in that key, just as it does in all other works of the classical era, its role here is extremely limited. Beethoven frequently uses the dominant chord as a brief resting-place before returning to the tonic. However, never once does he actually modulate to the key of F. Instead, all important modulations are to a key that is a third higher or lower than the immediately preceding one. 8 In other words, as early as 1816, Beethoven was attempting to do nothing less than re-define the concept of tonality by casting aside the traditional role of the dominant key (the second most fundamental entity in the tonal system), and elevating another note—the third—to that level of importance. It is not too great an exaggeration to state that we must look almost a century ahead, to Debussy and Schoenberg, in order to find so radical a transformation of musical thought. 9 For the sonata’s layout, Beethoven reverted to the four-movement Grande Sonate model that he had used so frequently in his youth. The opening movement is in sonata form, complete with a (very) necessary repeat of the Exposition. Immediately following the recapitulation, Beethoven jarringly introduces the theme in B minor, which he is known to have regarded as a “dark key.” From that point on, B minor serves as B flat major’s antithesis, with the struggle between the two keys occurring at various points throughout the sonata, most obviously at the conclusion of the Scherzo. The first movement also contains the most disputed reading in all of Beethoven’s <strong>piano</strong> music. Just prior to the return of the main theme there is a progression of notes in the bass line, in which an A-sharp becomes the 5 There is no single instrument called a Hammerklavier. Rather, it refers, in German to a keyboard instrument with hammers. Romance language terms – even for something as common as <strong>piano</strong> – were out of favor in the immediate post- Napoleonic era. Beethoven himself had also indicated that the Sonata Op. 101 was written for the Hammerklavier, but the nickname has stuck only to this work. 6 Solomon being the notable exception. I was referring to everyone else, of course. 7 Paradoxically, the sense of a <strong>piano</strong> (and perhaps the pianist as well) straining at its limits is required in order for that effect to be felt. The conductor Felix Weingartner actually made an orchestration of the sonata; the third movement is remarkably successful, but overall, at least in his own recording with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, the piece sounds smaller than it does in the hands of any competent pianist. 8 Ironically, B flat major is only peripherally related to the intricate system of four keys he constructs around it, and returns to time and time again. Three of them, G, D, and F sharp, are separated from B flat by, almost predictably, the interval of a third. I believe that these unorthodox “ground rules” are one of the chief elements that make the piece such a “tough nut to crack.” The sonata superficially sounds as if it is in a traditional key, but its internal workings are markedly different. 9 In this respect, he was ahead of the late 19th century composers like Liszt and Wagner, who, by exploiting and thwarting our expectations of traditional harmonic practice, were still acknowledging its traditions. <strong>Music</strong> on Main presents Silverman plays Beethoven. September 27, 2010 – April 5, 2011 at the Cellar Restaurant & Jazz Club. www.musiconmain.ca Programme notes by Robert Silverman. © Robert Silverman
Page 1 and 2: Programme notes BEETHOVEN’S <stro
Page 3 and 4: Sonata No. 2 in A major, Op. 2/2 co
Page 5 and 6: Sonata No. 4 in E flat, Op. 7 compo
Page 7 and 8: Sonata No. 6 in F Major, Op. 10/2 c
Page 9 and 10: Sonata No. 8 in C Minor, Op. 13 “
Page 11 and 12: Sonata No. 10 in G Major, Op. 14/2
Page 13 and 14: Sonata No. 12 in A flat Major, Op.
Page 15 and 16: Sonata No. 14 “quasi una Fantasia
Page 17 and 18: Sonata No. 16 in G Major, Op. 31/1
Page 19 and 20: Sonata No. 18 in E flat Major, Op.
Page 21 and 22: Sonata No. 21 in C, Op. 53 “Walds
Page 23 and 24: Sonata No. 23 in F minor, Op. 57
Page 25 and 26: Sonata No. 25 in G Major, Op. 79 co
Page 27: Sonata No. 27 in E minor, Op. 90 co
Page 31 and 32: Sonata No. 30 in E Major, Op. 109 c
Page 33: Sonata No. 32 in C

beethoven's 32 piano sonatas robert silverman - Music on Main

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