I can think of few pianists that I’d rather
hear in Beethoven than Alfred Brendel. It seems to me that he
unfailingly brings insight to bear on this composer’s music and,
indeed, on that of many others also.
This DVD contains a film of him playing one of
the towering masterpieces of the piano repertory, the Hammerklavier
sonata. As Misha Donat points out in his lucid and informative
note, the sheer physical demands posed by this sonata have compelled
Brendel to cease performing it in recent years. Donat says this
decision was a wrench to Brendel. How much more of a wrench is
it to Brendel’s admirers? Though we still have audio recordings
to remind us of his prowess in this work it is very valuable to
have a visual record of him performing this work. Those who have
not seen him in action should be warned, however, that his many
facial contortions may come as a surprise.
The performance was recorded in what I take to
be a television studio. There was no audience present. The camera
work is pretty conventional but one must remember that the film
was shot over thirty years ago. What we have here, I’d say, is
a pretty representative Brendel performance, combining poetry
and intellectual rigour.
In the first movement Brendel invests the music
with all the necessary strength but he gives proper weight to
the reflective passages also. The Adagio is a profound meditation
and here Brendel communes with himself and with the music most
intently. In my experience Brendel is at his very finest in movements
such as this and I found the present reading of this great soliloquy
very satisfying. He offers resolute and suitably trenchant playing
in the fearsomely demanding finale leaving us in no doubt that
he is fully equal to the physical and mental challenges posed
by Beethoven in this movement.
The following day Brendel returned to the same
studio for another session at which these two Bagatelles were
set down. Was the complete set recorded, I wonder? These pieces
are, of course, on a much smaller scale than the sonata but they
are certainly not slight. Brendel lavishes the same care and skill
on them as we witnessed during the sonata. I was especially taken
with his poetic performance of Number 3.
I’ve commented earlier on the camera work, which
is solid if unspectacular. The same description applies to the
sound. On my equipment the sound of the piano reproduced reasonably
well in the bass but there was quite a harsh, clangy treble sound
in the upper octaves, especially during louder passages. Those
who have run their DVD through a hi-fi system may well be able
to tame this by judicious use of the treble control.
As a fairly substantial bonus we are offered
film of the American pianist, Julius Katchen, playing the ‘Wanderer’
Fantasia. This performance was also given in Paris (Katchen’s
adopted home for much of his life) but on this occasion an audience
was present. Unlike the Brendel items this film is in black and
white, by the way. Again, and perhaps unsurprisingly, the sound
has its limitations. I found it clangy at the top and somewhat
muffled and woolly in the bass. Despite these limitations we get
a pretty good idea of Katchen’s performance, which I certainly
enjoyed. I found it an impressive and committed account, thoroughly
deserving the warm reception he gets from the audience. Particularly
impressive were the deeply felt yet nicely flowing adagio and
the finale, which Katchen projects strongly. Within 18 months
of the date of this performance Katchen was dead at the tragically
early age of 42. What a loss!
This DVD, then, offers straightforward visual
records of two fine pianists in their respective primes, playing
repertoire well suited to each of them. Though both the sound
and visual aspects have limitations it is still a recommendable
release which will be of great interest to admirers of either
artist.
John Quinn