Franz SCHUBERT (1797-1828)
Impromptu D899 No. 1 in C minor [12:15]
Impromptu D899 No. 2 in E flat [5:17]
Impromptu D899 No. 3 in G flat [12:14]
Impromptu D899 No. 4 in A flat [10:53]
Moment musical D780 No. 1 in C [7:55]
Moment musical D780 No. 2 in A flat [9:18]
Moment musical D780 No. 3 in F minor [2:13]
Moment musical D780 No. 4 in C sharp minor [7:44]
Moment musical D780 No. 5 in F minor [2:17]
Moment musical D780 No. 6 in A flat [14:59]
Piano Sonata No. 18 in G, D894 [54:44]
Tzimon Barto (piano)
rec. dates and venues not provided with digital copy
CAPRICCIO 5028 [60:05 + 79:44]
All one needs hear from Tzimon Barto’s new two-disc set of late Schubert
piano works is his two-minute, thirteen-second performance of the Moment Musical
No. 3 in F minor. It is a remarkable performance, for everything about it
is wrong.
The problems begin with the unnatural, exaggerated pause between the first
two chords. Barto then softens his left-hand’s harsh tone considerably,
leaving room for the main tune to enter, but the theme itself is phrased artificially
again, endings of every line tapering off into the ether (check 0:28). New
phrases signal increases in speed, which last until midway through the phrase,
when the pace slacks and the cycle repeats. The central section is largely
acceptable, although again devoid of a consistent tempo, but then at 1:16
the main theme trips over itself on its return. Sometimes the little trills
which end each line of the stanzas are phrased cleanly, precisely; sometimes
they are run together in a clatter (0:08); sometimes they are played with
artificial mystery and soft glow (1:16); sometimes (1:40) they kick off their
shoes and dance. Oh, and the artificial pause after the first chord comes
back, in the form of another delay before the last.
I’ve barely even mentioned the bass part. As Schubert wrote it, it is
simplicity itself: one-two, one-two, one-two. But Barto never plays two consecutive
one-twos the same way: sometimes the stress is on one, sometimes on two, sometimes
they are equal. Sometimes there is a quick “cut” from one to two,
and sometimes he takes all the time in the world. The louder and softer bits
of the piece are sometimes correlated with Schubert’s actual dynamic
markings.
We have all heard many pianists play this famous tune, and I suspect many
of this website’s readers will have played it themselves. Tzimon Barto’s
performance sounds like that of a wilful youngster adding his own “twist”
to the music, to impress us with how creative he is, and possibly to provoke
his piano teacher. Let me listen to anyone else in this music; to choose a
random performance from the shelf, let me listen to Dejan Lazic on Channel
Classics, a rather idiosyncratic player in his own right - he, too, drops
a pause in between the first two chords - who nevertheless knows how to marry
his own voice to Schubert’s will, rather than setting them against each
other in musical conflict. And the best artists, like Alfred Brendel, demonstrate
that following Schubert literally does not preclude a fresh approach.
Of course, that two-minute Moment Musical is just a tiny fraction of the contents
of Tzimon Barto’s 2-CD set, featuring the four Impromptus D899, all
six Moments, and the Sonata D894. The rest of the performances are similarly
peculiar. Take the third Impromptu, in G flat: Barto lets the piece unfold
with stillness bordering on lifelessness. It is like having a second Chopin
berceuse, and the effect is rather interesting for about two minutes, after
which I must confess to getting bored. I imagine Barto’s set of Chopin
nocturnes would run to four compact discs.
Putting on any other recording of the G flat Impromptu after this one - let
us choose Javier Perianes’ recent album on Harmonia Mundi - is a revelation.
Listening to Perianes I realized: ah! This impromptu actually has a beautiful
main melody, when it is phrased as if it is a melody and not a series of luminous
high notes separated by second-long pauses. And the accompaniment sounds like
a harp, accompanying a bard’s song, perhaps, or welcoming us to a faraway
dream-land. Not for Barto the evocation of harps. Not for Barto dynamics,
either; one of the revelations gained from putting on another recording after
his is that some of the main tune’s notes are, in fact, played more
loudly or more softly than others.
I usually do not make a major point out of track timings, but this seems to
be a rather extreme case. Perianes’ performance of the third Impromptu
clocks in at 6:43; Vladimir Horowitz and Paul Badura-Skoda both finish at
5:44, and Jeno Jando at 4:55. Tzimon Barto takes 12:14. Twelve minutes to
Alfred Brendel’s five. Barto’s recapitulation of the main
theme begins at 7:33. By that time, every other pianist is midway through
the next piece.
Even more stretched-out is the sixth and final Moment Musical; Badura-Skoda
takes 7:28, Dejan Lazic 6:40, Brendel 6:23. Barto manages the spectacular
achievement of stretching this out to exactly fifteen minutes. I say
“achievement,” and indeed it is, but not one to be enjoyed. There
is such a thing as offering a novel interpretation, but sometimes no pianist
has thought to do something before for a good reason. Schubert marked this
“allegretto,” not “largo.” But then, listening to
Barto, it is easy to forget that Schubert played a role in the creation of
this music.
The final Moment begins in plainspoken manner, with a three-chord motif that
is then repeated, slightly louder for emphasis and drama, and developed over
a span of truly heavenly simplicity. It is reworked into a more expansive
melody in the piece’s central section. Tzimon Barto understands none
of this; that second statement of the main motif is quieter here, to add mystery,
presumably. Two-second pauses divide each appearance of the three chords,
although the first two are sometimes separated from the third by even longer
hesitations. When the central section arrived (at 7:55), I had been made so
numb by the dull, thankless minutes which had passed before to notice that
Schubert had united the two themes. Listening to this performance in one sitting
is a difficult task.
The second Moment, too, is simplicity itself, with an opening that almost
does not need to be articulated. Dejan Lazic understands the way that these
first bars speak for themselves. Tzimon Barto, in contrast, sounds as if he
is playing at somebody’s funeral. At least he hammers out the Moment’s
harsh outburst like he means it.
I was not sent a review copy of this disc, and luckily did not purchase it;
I listened online through a subscription to the Naxos Music Library. I mention
this for two reasons. First, my review has been composed solely as a warning
to fellow consumers. We all have tight CD budgets, and I would feel poorly
if anyone spent their money on these performances who would not have, given
sufficient notice.
Second, to save your time and mine, and because I was not officially assigned
this disc, I would really rather not write a detailed review of Barto’s
Sonata D894, except to remark that it suffers from the same deficiencies which
afflict the rest of the disc. Indeed, the only works to really be played well
here are the fifth Moment musical and the second Impromptu, in A flat, and
even that experiences some stop-and-go rhythmic quirks between 2:30 and 3:00.
Contrary to the popular myth, we critics do not really enjoy writing negative
reviews; I would much rather make everything a “recording of the month.”
It means good listening, after all, as well as the pleasure of writing appreciative
replies to our experiences. We know that the artists are people, too, with
their own visions and sensibilities, and do our best to respect their efforts.
But I must confess temptation to violate that unwritten principle, respect,
in this case. After all, Tzimon Barto’s performances exhibit little
to no respect for the written scores by Franz Schubert, and his rewriting
of the dynamics, tempi, rhythms and stresses are tantamount to an insult to
the composer. The Capriccio label already has an excellent series of Schubert
CDs by Michael Endres; there was no need for this testament to one performer’s
egotism. Avoid.
Brian Reinhart
Little to no respect for Schubert’s music. Avoid.