These recordings first
appeared on a Decca L'Oiseau-Lyre LP
in 1980, when Malcolm Binns was one
of the pioneers of Beethoven performance
on period instruments. Others have recorded
Beethoven on fortepiano since, but I
am not aware of any other fortepiano
set of the final five sonatas currently
available. Recorded on five different
fortepianos of Beethoven’s time, these
readings are certainly worth hearing
if historical Beethoven performance
interests you.
Interpretatively, Binns
is no pedant. He does not adhere rigidly
to metronome markings and does not play
the sonatas with quick and crisp tempi
and articulation, as has come to be
the norm for period performance. He
takes the "authentic" approach
to Beethoven of playing the music with
a sense of fantasy, in the moment. If
you think of the young Barenboim's approach
to these sonatas in his EMI recordings,
and transfer that approach to period
keyboards, you will have something of
the flavour of Binns' readings.
Binns performs the
28th sonata on an Erard Brothers
fortepiano which dates from two years
after the sonata's composition. Although
the action of this keyboard is Viennese
- like that of all of the fortepianos
used here - it is closer in design to
the English action on which modern pianos
are based. That being the case I expected
a fuller tone from this keyboard. I
found it light in the bass and a little
brittle sounding. Binns’ pace in the
first movement is deliberate and he
separates the notes of the opening theme
. I was not impressed by the central
movement. It should swagger and charm,
like a sailor on shore leave, but here
it is awkward and clunky. The final
movement is much better, with lovely
phrasing, gentleness when called for,
firm fingers and enough mystery in the
narrative to keep you listening, a few
duff notes notwithstanding.
The Hammerklavier
fares better. Binns turns to a bigger,
tougher instrument George Haschka of
c. 1825 - a wise move, given the
immensity of this sonata. Beethoven’s
score does not allow Binns the luxury
of using the fortepiano’s fifth pedal
- the "Turkish" effect pedal,
complete with bells drums and cymbals,
so the liner-notes say. Binns does,
however, make use of the instrument’s
bright tone, firm bass and full-throated
resonance. The first movement is confident,
full of dynamic and colouristic contrast.
Binns takes a rhapsodic approach to
the third movement and the concluding
fourth movement almost seems to run
away from him at times - it sounds like
he is wrestling with Beethoven himself!
This makes for an exciting but bewildering
finale. Overall, this Hammerklavier
is a little wilful but cogently argued.
Again there are finger slips, but it
is worth looking past them.
The second CD opens
with a lovely performance of sonata
no. 30. The first movement and second
movements are tracked together. The
first has a free, song-like quality,
but I missed the sheer energy of Pollini
in the second movement. The third, though,
is satisfying under Binns’ fingers.
He clearly takes Beethoven’s direction
"Gesangvoll, mit innigster Empfindung"
(Songful, with most intimate feeling)
very much to heart. Binns plays this
sonata on a 1814 John Broadwood, with
a lovely rounded tone, but a slightly
stiff sounding action. If Binns wrestled
with Beethoven in the Hammerklavier,
he wrestles with the keyboard at times
here, including for a minute or so from
about nine minutes into the finale.
Binns turns to an 1819
Broadwood for sonata no.31. The instrument
sounds similar to the 1814, though it
seems suppler and - to my ears, at least
- suffers from tuning problems in the
middle and lower registers. Binns’ performance
is similar in conception to his rendition
of sonata no. 30, but the third movement
sounds more ponderous here than reflective.
Again, this seems to stem from a need
to fight the keyboard a little.
The final sonata receives
a better performance. This is gruff
and grumpy old Beethoven, with Binns’
firm left hand and lighter right hand
almost arguing with each other. The
enigmatic second movement is given a
monumental treatment, spiced by Beethoven’s
wry honky-tonk passages. The 1835 Conrad
Graf fortepiano produces a tone of darker
hue than the brighter sounding Broadwoods
that precede it, and is well suited
to Binns’ conception.
Interpretatively, then,
this Binns set is a qualified success.
The performances of sonatas 29, 30 and
32 are good, though it must be conceded
that the Hammerklavier is not
for everyday listening; the performances
of sonatas 28 and 31 are not quite on
the same level. The thing I found most
interesting about this set, though,
is the way it debunks the period performance
myth that "it must have sounded
just like this in Beethoven’s day".
All of these instruments - except, of
course, this particular Conrad Graf
- were available during Beethoven’s
lifetime. In fact, Beethoven had a 1803
Erard instrument - which he did not
like -and a 1816 Broadwood - which he
did like - in his own collection. The
instruments themselves not only sound
different in tone and timbre, but their
actions and responsiveness audibly force
the pianist to change his touch, his
tempi and inevitably his interpretation.
We are used to hearing pianists shaping
these sonatas according to their conception
of Beethoven’s music on pliable modern
instruments, and it comes as a surprise
to hear the instruments themselves dictating
a pianist’s approach to some degree.
Listening to these performances, I am
struck by just how many variables contribute
to how these sonatas - which Beethoven
only ever heard in his head as pure
sound, uninhibited by the quirks of
individual instruments - are realised
in performance. Others may think differently,
but for me this set vidicates the modern
Steinways, Yamahas, Kawais and Stuarts
as the instruments of choice for Beethoven
performance.
If you are looking
for a set of the last piano sonatas
to live with, there are better options
out there. Pollini's polished set of
the last five is available on Deutsche
Grammophon's Originals imprint and is
consistently impressive. Brendel's performances
on a Philips Duo are equally distinguished
- less imposing but more human - and
by programming the sonatas out of chronological
order, Philips makes room for the delectable
27th sonata. These two sets
are my favourites and have been for
many years. As a supplement and an historical
corrective, though, Binns’ set is instructive,
and one to which I will return.
Tim Perry