Muzio Clementi - or
to give him his splendid full name,
Mutius Philippus Vincentius Franciscus
Xaverius Clementi - was the son of a
Roman silversmith; showing early musical
abilities he was, at the age of 13,
made organist of San Lorenzo in Damaso.
That church, now incorporated into the
Palazzo della Cancelleria on the Corso
Vittorio Emmanuele II contains a small
fresco of some delightful angel musicians
by Cavaliere d’Arpino (1568-1640) which
hopefully smiled down on the new young
organist. Certainly his talents impressed
some human listeners. So much so that
in 1766, on hearing him play, Peter
Beckford (cousin of the notorious novelist
William Beckford) paid the young Clementi’s
father a sum sufficient to get his services
for seven years and brought him to England
where, at Beckford’s estate in Dorset,
he entertained visitors, practised and
studied. Clementi stayed in Beckford’s
service until 1774.
From these unusual
beginnings, Clementi went on to develop
a very successful musical career, both
in London and on the continent, as a
pianist, composer, teacher, music publisher
and maker of pianos. This present CD
offers an interesting selection of his
work for piano, excellently played by
Liv Glaser on a replica of a Longman
and Clementi instrument of 1799 made
in 2003 by Chris Maene. And how lovely
it sounds! With a range of five octaves,
and two pedals, it has a beautifully
rounded tone, without any excessive
brightness and Glaser’s use of the sustain
pedal produces some lovely overtones.
Glaser’s playing is
not at all showy, and she finds a tenderness
in much of this writing which hasn’t
always been located by some previous
interpreters. The booklet notes take
the form of an imaginary letter from
performer to composer (a pleasant conceit,
though it unfortunately comes at the
cost of there being very little ‘hard’
information on dates etc. I have supplied
those above myself, from other sources).
In her ‘letter’ Glaser tells Clementi,
rightly enough, "that your many
keyboard studies and exercises have
had a tendency to overshadow all the
epoch-making, exciting and passionate
music that you have created for the
piano, which stylistically embraces
the rhetoric of both the Galant style
and Romanticism. Someone very wisely
said that you have created a bridge
from Scarlatti to Chopin. Now who could
have put it better than that?".
Certainly the reduction of Clementi’s
posthumous reputation to that of being
essentially a pedagogue is one that
is only slowly being overcome. A CD
such as this present one should help
the case considerably.
Whether in the elegance
of the sonatinas – the C Major is particularly
charming – or in the more powerful writing
in the sonatas Glaser is a thoroughly
convincing advocate for Clementi’s work.
The G Minor sonata which closes the
disc is a wonderful work, full of propulsive
rhythms and octave melodies; it surely
influenced Beethoven. Very fine, too,
is the B flat Major sonata, which Clementi
played in his ‘contest’ with Mozart
in Vienna in 1781 and which is echoed
by Mozart in the overture to The
Magic Flute. In the F minor sonata,
Glaser articulates very attractively
the two and three part texture of the
opening allegro agitato; she and her
fortepiano bring out both the expressive
melodies and the passing dissonances
of the central adagio and there are
anticipations of Beethoven (again) to
be heard (this time of the Eroica)
in the closing allegro.
The remark which Glaser
quotes (where does it come from?), to
the effect that Clementi "created
a bridge from Scarlatti to Chopin"
is really very apposite. We know that
works by Scarlatti were amongst those
which the teenage Clementi played and
studied in Peter Beckford’s music library
in Dorset (where he also studied works
by Handel and by J.S. and C.P.E. Bach,
amongst others). In later life, of course,
John Field was to be one of Clementi’s
students. The "bridge", in
other words, exists both in what one
can hear in the music and in the range
of music and musicians with which Clementi,
in an extraordinarily busy and productive
life, was in touch. But we must be careful
not to over-emphasise Clementi’s role
as a "bridge" or a catalyst
in musical history, since that risks
underplaying the extent of his own actual
achievement – any listeners not already
convinced of the considerable substance
of that achievement are urged to listen
to this CD.
Glyn Pursglove