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Robert Schumann (1810-1856)
Novelleten Op. 21
Gesänge der Frühe Op. 133
Clara Schumann (1819-1896)
Soirées Musicales Op. 6/1, 2 & 5
Martin Helmchen (piano)
rec. 2021, Sendesaal Bremen, Germany
Reviewed as a digital download from a press preview
ALPHA 857 [70]

It is a bold move by the German pianist, Martin Helmchen, to partner two of the biggest black sheep in Robert Schumann’s pianistic flock on one disc. If the Gesänge der Frühe suffer the same fate as most of his later output – that is, seen as evidence of waning powers before his descent into insanity – the Novelleten are very much the most neglected of the piano works of his early prime. Both estimations seem to me entirely unfair as, in very different ways, these two pieces contain some of Schumann’s most profound utterances. To add to the theme of neglect, the programme is rounded out by three pieces by Clara Schumann – though judging by the number of releases devoted to her music over the last few years it won’t be long until she is rightfully no longer seen as just Robert’s wife.

A further distinctive feature of this recording is the use of a period piano, in this instance a Bechstein from 1860. This particular piano is in very good order and is sympathetically recorded by the Alpha technical crew. I will have more to say on this in due course but a more general observation is that it seems a little strange that Helmchen, who has recorded the Beethoven concertos as well as the Diabelli Variations on a modern piano, should delve into the world of period pianos for this repertoire. Perhaps he feels that fortepianos are not reliable enough. Perhaps he feels that this particular music benefits especially from using this type of piano. I’m afraid I can’t answer the question as the liner notes are entirely silent on the subject. Translated from German, they seem too bizarrely fixated on whether or not Robert and Clara had a menage à trois with Chopin! My sympathies are extended to the unfortunate translator of what might be charitably described as a quixotic essay.

I should start by declaring that I have very strong views on tempi in R Schumann’s piano music. Quite simply I find just about every recording takes them too fast and as a result much of the finer detail is lost in the rush. I would go so far as to say that I believe the poor reputation of the Novelleten derives from this matter of excessively fast speeds. It is unarguable that Schumann’s tempo markings indicate fast speeds but setting aside that Schumann seems to have been a decidedly excitable fellow these markings tell us little about how fast “as fast as possible” was in the composer’s mind. It seems to me that our idea of as fast as possible is almost certainly faster than anything Schumann could have imagined living in the era before the arms race of virtuoso pianism that came after him. This leaves the vexed issue of metronome markings and I am indebted to the work of Bernhard Ruchti and others for making a persuasive argument that we have been reading these metronome markings incorrectly. Such arguments would remain matters for musicological spats if they didn’t convince musically but, to my ears at least, they do convince as can be heard on Ruchti’s Schumann a Tempo recording.

All of this makes reviewing more conventional approaches to these pieces tricky and I can only attempt to keep my prejudices in check. Acclimatising to this recording is rather like the reverse of the sensation of having to slow down on a motorway to 30 miles per hour after having been driving at 70 – in different circumstances driving at 30 is fast but it feels slow. I have the opposite sensation here as everything feels rushed. Older listeners will be familiar with this sensation from the early days of the period instrument movement. The oddity with Schumann is that slower tempi seem to be the radical idea, not the conservative one.

Even allowing for adjusting to the faster speeds, Helmchen feels in a rush. In casting around for comparisons, I came upon Sviatoslav Richter’s sensational but sadly incomplete recording live on Melodiya. Timings between him and Helmchen are very similar yet the Russian seems to have all the time in the world.

One of the pieces Richter didn’t record is the scherzo like sixth movement whose tricky humour Helmchen seems to gallop past. This is as much a matter of rhetoric as tempo, as Richter’s recording of other movements amply demonstrates. The impression of Helmchen’s performance is of skating over the surface, most notably in the gorgeous lyrical melody that alternates with the more playful elements. This extraordinary tune becomes rather commonplace handled this way where it is clear to me that what Schumann was after was a sudden moment of romantic delight. It is probably not a coincidence that at such moments I find Helmchen’s piano at its most clattery. The trio section of the next movement is similarly rushed through though here the effect is closer to the world of Schumann’s piano concerto. It is very lovely playing but I was left feeling a little short changed.

Turning to an alternative recording by Craig Sheppard on Romeo demonstrates that modifications to tempo don’t have to be that extreme to reap significant benefits. Sheppard’s overall timings aren’t that much different to Helmchen’s but it is what he does what that extra time that matters. Richter shows that top speed doesn’t matter if it doesn’t interfere with the articulation of the notes and, more importantly, the mood of the piece. Sheppard, a little known pianist issuing his live recordings on a little known label, is as close to ideal as I can imagine short of him performing this work at the speeds Ruchti et al say the metronome markings indicate.

What I did enjoy immensely was Helmchen’s tripping way with Schumann’s shuffling almost two step waltz in the fourth movement. This is one place where Helmchen gets one over Richter! Besides I want to reassert that most of my criticisms of Helmchen could apply equally to just about every recording I know of this piece. Even though I was hugely impressed by Richter, I was still left with the lingering feeling that this is the very best that can be done at this speed. In the same sixth movement, Sheppard brings an extra level of characterisation to the shifting accents of the music which is where the wit and tender affection of this music lie. Overall, even a little bit more time, allows Sheppard to shape the music with greater affection. This is a warm hearted piece rather than a set of etudes.

Helmchen is tremendous throughout the fifth section where the tempo is clearly meant to be fast and the colours of his piano really come into their own. The repeated quaver two semiquavers rhythm of the second trio which can have all the charm of a jackhammer on a modern Steinway sounds light and vibrant here even at full tilt. The quieter moments of this movement also bring out the poetic side of Helmchen’s art.

It is true that Schumann’s piano writing can often be excessively noisy and heavy if handled the wrong way but listen to Richter in the often ungrateful chordal passages of the last of the Novelleten and any concerns about the piano writing vanish but even Richter can’t disguise the bumpiness to the dotted rhythm of the same second trio of No.5 at this sort of tempo instead of the ambling pastoral interlude it could be. This matters as this particular passage drifts, unexpectedly, into one of the most sublime passages in all Schumann. Helmchen does as well as almost anyone at this moment but the rhythm instead of gently rocking us into a state of reverie is more like being jolted down the road in a horse and cart. I am exaggerating somewhat but given the superbly gentle way Helmchen lays this particular section down to sleep I can’t help wishing he wasn’t shackled by speed. Sheppard gets this section absolutely and magically right. Others less blinded by this obsession of mine will, I am sure, find this passage an unqualified success but my issue is less a matter of speed for its own sake so much as those places in the score where Schumann is not just a romantic ardent lover but a seer. Helmchen is that kind of pianist and this performance is shot through with a rare poetic spirit but there are too many moments where Schumann’s flights of fancy get lost in the flurries of notes for this to be the performance of the Novelleten that I can welcome without reservations. For that experience, with the minor provisos mentioned earlier, I suggest listeners investigate Sheppard but everyone who loves Schumann needs to hear Richter in a selection from the Novelleten.

I found Helmchen less successful in the more gnomic utterances of the Gesänge der Frühe or Songs of the Dawn. The composer’s penultimate works, they emerge from a brief period of happiness before his total mental collapse. They are fragile and delicate pieces that most pianists steer clear of yet, as Cordelia Williams’ revelatory account shows, in the right hands they penetrate as deep into the human experience as any of his works. Williams understands, almost intuitively, how their quirky but gorgeous melodies unfold where Helmchen gets them a bit stuck under his fingers. The opening movement sounds tentative in his hands and the lovely tracery of the second threatens to unravel where Williams weaves a bewitching tapestry as fine as gossamer wet with dew on a summer’s morning. At points I wondered if what I was hearing from Helmchen was a pianist not entirely at ease with the instrument used or whether it was a matter of it was just the repertoire he wasn’t comfortable with. Either way, the results, in contrast to the Novelleten, remain stubbornly earthbound. If you have yet to discover the joys of these pieces, go for Williams’ moving account of them instead of this.

The pieces included by Clara Schumann date from her wunderkind years and show remarkable promise for a 16 or 17 year old. They were clearly written to provide virtuoso material for her repertoire and as such they are highly effective, if, forgivably, they can’t be said to mine the depths. As with most of Clara’s output, they are as much a poignant reminder of what might have been rather than significant in their own right. The biggest claim to fame of the pieces included here is that the Mazurka went on to find greater fame when quoted in Roberts’s Davidsbündlertänze. The gulf between that piece and Clara’s demonstrates powerfully the difference between a talent snuffed out and one allowed to burn brightly. Helmchen dispatches them with all the flair and elegance one could wish for.

This release will add lustre to Helmchen’s already distinguished reputation without pushing itself to the head of the pack as his startlingly good recordings of the Diabelli Variations or the Emperor Concerto did.

David McDade