Ludwig van BEETHOVEN (1770-1827)
Diabelli Variations Op120 [59:08]
Mitsuko Uchida (piano)
Rec. 4-8 October 2021, Snape Maltings Concert Hall, UK
Reviewed as a digital download from a press preview
DECCA 4852731 [59:08]
My first thought listening to this recording was: is this really Mitsuko Uchida? Whatever I expected from her recording of the Diabellis, it was not this. Perhaps age has finally mellowed the legendary interpreter of hair trigger Debussy Études or cliff edge Schubert. Whatever the reason, this is mightily impressive Beethoven, full of seasoned wisdom, patience and deep emotion. Of all pianists, I might have expected to attempt to swallow this set of variations in a stampede of Beethovenian invention it was Uchida - but not so. Whilst variations like No.s 16 and 17 blaze a trail as furiously as anyone, the abiding impression of an artist savouring Beethoven’s invention like a fine wine and delighting in every drop. What she is particularly good at is relating parts to the whole – no detail is overlooked but everything is integrated in a gloriously architectural view of the entire set. It is a balancing act few interpreters pull off and even fewer as convincingly as Uchida does here.
In all sorts of ways, the Diabelli Variations are different from the sets of variations which conclude Op109 and Op111. They are closer to the variation form as Haydn and Mozart understood it with the shape and melody of the theme clearly discernible in many of the variations. This sometimes runs the risk of monotony unless the performer is sensitive to what makes each variation distinct from one another. This is something to which Uchida is particularly attuned.
The Diabellis belong to a strain of music that includes the Grosse Fuge and the finale of the Hammerklavier amongst others that show Beethoven at his most cussed. Beethoven’s humour is seldom subtle even as it can be cosmic in its breadth and, as Alfred Brendel has pointed out, this set of variations is comic in its essence. Uchida doesn’t shy away from such moments as in the hurly burly of Variation 21 and the clowning of Variation 22’s Mozart parody – her prodigious technique still in full health and making light of the technical difficulties of the piece – but they sit within a serene, benign conception. Hers is a comic vision of the piece in the original sense of the word as in the Divine Comedy.
If Uchida seems to have mellowed somewhat since her initial heyday, what has remained a feature of her playing is its astonishing fineness of touch. This brings an intensity to her music making which is gripping even without the often febrile atmosphere of old. Quieter variations like No.12 or No.24’s fughetta which can often go missing amongst the heaven-storming faster ones here seem the core of the piece. The next variation after the fughetta (No.25) reveals the warmth and good humour that shines from Uchida’s account. The one that comes after that (No.26) is, for once, genuinely piacevole. Played to within an inch of its life, as in recordings by Brendel and Stephen Kovacevich to cite two fine earlier examples, the Diabellis can be very exciting, visionary even, but also rather hard and uncompromising. As with my current favourite versions by Igor Levit and Martin Helmchen, Uchida grasps that gentleness is needed to balance out the cussedness I mentioned earlier if the piece isn’t to flirt with becoming boorish.
But what of the big variations at the end of the work? By making the quieter variations the core of her interpretation, the three slow variations which precede the big fugue blossom naturally. It is typical of Uchida that she lets these melodic variations sing rather seek to overburden them with significance. The technical beauty of her playing, ably supported by superb piano sound from Decca, make this not just a profound experience but a listen of great beauty. In variation 31 her finger control in the baroque decorations of the melody is remarkable which means the rhetoric of those figurations really convinces. I particularly enjoyed the effortless way this variation gives way to the fugue as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Throughout the work, Uchida brings a sense of inevitability to the unfolding of the variations where others look for jolts and surprises.
The fugue itself is surprising jolly in tone, detailed and precise but with no sense of Beethoven shaking his fist at the gods. I wouldn’t want to give the impression that this is anything but thrilling piano playing. My comments relate to the prevailing tone. Clearly Uchida sees the the destination of the work as the transfigured minuet of variation No.33. Is this quite as transcendent as it is Martin Helmchen’s celestial account? Not quite but it feels all of a piece with Uchida’s warm, humane rendering of these variations. Hers is a human Beethoven rather than one halfway into the great beyond. The very end has a sense of completion rare in recordings of the Diabellis as if Beethoven were saying ‘I have finally said all I need to say about this theme’. The final chord is like the decisive closing of a score.
David McDade
