Ludwig van BEETHOVEN (1770-1827)
Works for Cello and Piano
12 Variations on the theme ‘Ein Mädchen oder Weibchen’ Op. 66 (1796?) [9:19]
Sonata for piano and cello in F Op. 5 No. 1 (1796) [23:28]
Sonata for piano and cello in G minor Op. 5 No. 2 (1796) [22:42]
7 Variations on ‘Bei Männern, welche Liebe fühlen’ WoO. 46 (1801) [9:48]
Sonata for piano and cello in A Op. 69 (1807-8) [26:02]
Sonata for piano and cello in C Op. 102 No. 1 (1815) [18:50]
Sonata for piano and cello in D Op. 102 No. 2 (1815) [11:47]
12 Variations on a theme from Handel’s ‘Judas Maccabeus’ WoO. 45 (1796) [11:47]
Mischa Maisky (cello)
Martha Argerich (piano)
rec. April 1990, Maison de la Radio, Studio 4, Brussels; December 1992, Concertgebouw, Nijmegen, Netherlands
Presto CD
DEUTSCHE GRAMMOPHON 439 934-2 [65:37 + 73:23]
Although Beethoven’s contribution to the instrument was small, compared to the number of his other chamber works, cellists are fortunate in two ways. Firstly, his cello sonatas were the first proper sonatas written for cello and piano. And, secondly, they cover all three of the periods into which his work is conventionally divided. From his first period, before he moved to Vienna, there are two sonatas and three sets of variations. From his second period, contemporary with the fifth and sixth symphonies there is another sonata, and from his final period, there are the two last sonatas. When one thinks that few composers have written more than two cello sonatas, Beethoven’s does seem a considerable contribution, albeit one that fits neatly onto two discs.
The first disc opens and closes with two sets of variations, each taking a theme from Mozart’s Magic Flute as its basis. (Don’t be misled by the late opus number of the first set: this is also an early work.) This is entertainment music of the best kind: charming, capricious and with only the occasional more serious note added for contrast. These two sets frame the two early cello sonatas. These have a similar, unusual, structure: two movements only, with an extended slow introduction to the first movement and a Rondo as the second. There is no slow movement. The long first movements each have numerous themes, along the lines of Mozart’s piano concertos, some of which were in Beethoven’s repertoire as a pianist. Indeed, the piano writing is often concertante in style, with numerous runs and decorations, while the cello parts are simpler. Possibly Beethoven felt less confident writing for an instrument which he did not himself play. They were written for Jean-Louis Duport, the court cellist of the Prussian King Friedrich Wilhelm II, who may indeed have commissioned them.
The next cello sonata may also have been a commission, or possibly it was a gift. Beethoven wrote it for his friend Baron Gleichenstein, who was himself a cellist. He wrote on the dedication copy ‘Inter lacrymas et luctus’ (amidst tears and sorrow), which is more likely to refer to his circumstances at the time, when he was trying to obtain a permanent position to give him more security than the freelance life, than it does to the work itself. This belongs to the same expansive and genial side of Beethoven which we also find in the Violin Concerto, the Pastoral Symphony and the Kreutzer Sonata. It opens with the solo cello, and thereafter we find that the cello and piano regularly exchange material. The sonata-form first movement takes the cello quite high and has a mysterious development and a haunting coda. The Scherzo is highly characteristic, with rhythmic dislocations and sudden changes of dynamics. What sounds as if it going to be a full slow movement breaks off and takes us into the final Rondo, which Maisky and Argerich take at a helter-skelter pace. It is an exhilarating ride.
The final two sonatas were also written for a friend, Countess Erdödy, who would have played them with her friend, the cellist Joseph Linke. With these works we are in Beethoven’s late period, which features a pervasive use of polyphony, complex and irregular figuration, often ambiguous harmony and links between the themes in different movements. The first sonata is in two movements, each with a slow introduction. Remarkably, the opening Andante is recalled between the Adagio and the second Allegro. Beethoven also used this device in the piano sonata Op. 101, and, famously, in the last movement of the ninth symphony. The second sonata is also a striking work. This has, for the only time in Beethoven’s cello sonatas, a full-scale slow movement between the two fast ones. The finale is a fugue, a form which increasingly fascinated Beethoven in his later years, and is a considerable feat for this combination of instruments, where one of the voices is in a completely different timbre from the others. The two works are rather withdrawn and private and do not give up their secrets easily.
Finally, we have the Variations on a theme from Handel’s ‘Judas Maccabeus.’ Beethoven greatly admired Handel for his ability to create impressive effects from simple material. The theme here is from the chorus ‘See the conquering hero comes,’ which has one of those tunes which everyone knows. This is another early work. The twelve variations show off the piano more than the cello, which is given only limited opportunity to shine, and are brilliant and impressive without claiming any great depth. After the later sonatas they have the effect of an encore.
Here we are in the hands of Mischa Maisky and Martha Argerich. Maisky is a formidable and confident player, but there is no doubt that it is Argerich who is the dominant partner. This is partly Beethoven’s doing, for writing such elaborate piano parts, but it is also thanks to her own splendid and mercurial personality. Interestingly, in her days of solo recitals, now long gone, she played, or at least recorded, little Beethoven (the first three concertos and a couple of sonatas), but when she decided to concentrate on chamber music, along with the occasional concerto, she recorded all Beethoven’s violin sonatas with Gidon Kremer, and this set of his cello works. This has been around for thirty years and is considered a classic. Maisky holds back his tendency to assertiveness to be a true chamber music player, and Argerich sparkles and delights without dominating, except in the early works where Beethoven makes her do. The recording balances the two instruments well. I did feel the piano tone was slightly shallow, but the ear soon adjusts.
Stephen Barber