This very engaging
CD has several heroes … or heroines. Clementi himself, for writing
such interesting and intriguing music; Susan Alexander-Max for
playing it with so much insight and intelligence; Derek Adlam
for making the fine-sounding copy of a fortepiano of around
1798 on which she interprets the music, the original instrument
being the work of Michael Rosengerger, the Bavarian instrument
maker who was at work in Vienna from 1796.
Adlam’s copy of
Rosenberger’s fortepiano is a joy in itself; it has a very light,
pure treble, a lyrical middle register and a pretty solid bass.
It has both grace and - relatively speaking - power. It is admirably
suited to Clementi’s music – which has, indeed, the same qualities
itself. Instrument (and pianist) are entirely at home with the
essentially cantabile nature of these early sonatas.
All are in three
movements – fast-slow-fast and, in a real sense, all the essentials
of what later generations came to think of as the conventions
of the piano sonata are already present here. Clementi’s influence
on Beethoven, for one, is now well established. Of course, Beethoven
does things with the piano sonata that Clementi could hardly
have dreamed of, but if one listens, for example, to the Opus
7, no 3 sonata, anticipations of Beethoven, in the use of dynamic
contrast, in the sforzando rhetoric of the opening allegro con
spirito, in the octave work of the closing presto and in the
profound lyricism of the slow movement (cantabile e lento),
are unmissable. We have interesting testimony from Anton Schindler
(admittedly not always the most reliable of witnesses!) to the
effect that Beethoven “had the greatest admiration for these
sonatas, considering them the most beautiful, the most pianistic
of works, both for their lovely, pleasing, original melodies
and for the consistent, easily followed form of each movement.”
Listening is enough to tell us that, for once, Schindler can
probably be trusted.
But it would be
unfair to Clementi just to talk about him in terms of his influence,
rather than on the basis of the considerable merits of his own
– best - music. In these sonatas there is much that is “lovely
[and] pleasing”, especially in the slow movements (try the central
larghetto con espressione of Op.11); there are some beautifully
made faster movements … as in the prestissimo which closes Op.10,
no.1. Perhaps Clementi doesn’t often surprise the modern listener;
but that is, in part, because so much of what he did became
established practice in the piano music of the nineteenth century;
we listen to Clementi having heard what followed him and consequently
fail to appreciate the considerable originality and sheer quality
of much of his writing for the keyboard.
As she was in an
earlier Clementi collection for Naxos (Early Piano Sonatas,
8.555808) Susan Alexander-Max proves herself to be a thoroughly
persuasive advocate for this still underrated music. She allows
herself proper freedoms of interpretation but within an evident
respect for Clementi and his achievement. If you haven’t yet
discovered that there is more to Clementi than the didactic
Gradus ad Parnassum and the relatively simple Sonatinas,
you now have a further excellent chance to do so.
Glyn Pursglove
Susan Alexander-Max
(fortepiano)
