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Ludwig van BEETHOVEN
(1770 – 1827)
Piano Sonatas, Volume 1 [213:46] CD 1
Sonata, op. 2 no. 1 in F minor (1793-5) [19:26]; op. 2 no. 2 in
A major (1794-5) [25:22]; op. 2 no. 3 in C major (1794-5) [24:53];
CD 2
Sonata, op. 7, ‘Grande Sonate’ in E flat major (1796-7) [28:30];
op. 13, ‘Pathétique’ in C minor (1797-8) [18:26]; op. 14 no. 1 in
E major (1798) [13:19]; op. 14 no. 2 in G major (1798) [14:59];
CD 3
Sonata, op. 10 no. 1 in C minor (?1795-7) [17:47]; op. 10 no. 2
in F major (1796-7) [16:44]; op. 10 no. 3 in D major (1797-8) [23:56];
Jean-Efflam Bavouzet (piano)
rec. Potton Hall, Suffolk, 28-30 October 2008 (op. 2), 28-30 September
2010 (op. 7, 13, 14), 14-16 December 2011 (op. 10)
CHANDOS CHAN 10720(3) [3 CDs: 69:54 + 75:37 + 68:15]
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Bavouzet begins with op. 2 no. 1. His fluency emphasises
the striking authority of Beethoven’s exposition. It’s assured
and fully in command of the material in its quickly passing
variety yet continuity. In Bavouzet’s hands a playful quality,
despite the key of F minor, stands out. The only query I have
is whether the marking ‘con espressione’ at the end of the exposition
and recapitulation (tr. 1, 0:45, 3:18) should receive more attention.
Alfred Brendel in his third Beethoven cycle which I’ll use throughout
this review for comparison (Decca 4781821) colours it more markedly
but otherwise I prefer Bavouzet’s more consistent playfulness
to Brendel’s more measured, darker, more ruminative and ambiguous
manner. No qualms about Bavouzet’s slow movement. Now F major,
all is tender, warm, even serene and Bavouzet gives it a manly
delicacy, its demisemiquaver elaborations graceful without being
too precious. The originality of the Minuet comes across well:
F minor again but nonchalant, quizzical. The F major Trio is
more flowing but extreme dynamic and rhythmic contrasts are
enjoyed in its second section. Dynamic contrasts are also significant
in the finale. Bavouzet opts for clarity of articulation rather
than breakneck prestissimo. As in the first movement, he’s faster
than Brendel who, unlike Bavouzet, again omits the second half
repeat. Bavouzet again creates a sense of playfulness and unity
with the first movement, though Brendel gives more weight to
the descending sequences which are the second element of the
second group of themes (from tr. 4 0:32 in Bavouzet). He makes
freer and more luminous the extended melody which is the surprise
of the second half of the movement. This from Bavouzet seems
soubrette-like first time (1:50) but is made more agreeably
airy on its repeat.
Op. 2 no. 2 is startling in the sheer mastery of its
writing and of Bavouzet’s playing. The first movement has a
teasing brilliance and jocularity within an appropriately controlled
frame. The development (tr. 5 3:25) is rigorously argued. Bavouzet
displays total command of seamless phrasing counterpoised by
rhythmic and dynamic contrast. The Largo appassionato
slow movement deploys the sparest of melodies, rich in emotive
expression over an eccentrically treading bass which from Bavouzet
has an impish streak. His convincing tempo imparts a beauteously
limpid, though austere, exploratory freedom to the expansive
arioso manner that follows the melody (tr. 6 1:30).
In this movement Brendel brings more warmth and purposive shape
to the melody and pathos to the arioso. Bavouzet has
a smoother, more natural line and a more classical, distanced
arioso. The third movement Scherzo is mercurial,
with a troubled, rather sullen Trio in A minor for
contrast. The finale is a rondo using an unusually relaxed theme
which allows the episodes to be more lively, in particular the
second (tr. 8 1:43) which Bavouzet makes fiery.
With Op. 2 no. 3 the opening movement is all energy,
though Bavouzet also catches well its initial playfulness. The
contrasting lyricism of its second theme (tr. 9 1:14), suggests
relaxation, yet working towards more energy. This allows its
close to radiate triumphant confidence. Bavouzet gives a rumbustious,
barn-storming account, and clearly relishes the experience.
Brendel is more measured, less spontaneous. His development
is more purposeful, steely, urgent. That said, yet you always
feel that the end is in sight. With Bavouzet (4:47) there’s
the fascinating possibility that his more mysterious sense of
exploration may come off the rails. In fact it’s the slow movement
(tr. 10) that’s haunting: a simple yet eloquent theme, a troubled
continuation, then the pathos of a melody floating over a restless
ostinato. Bavouzet brings to the table flowing, unaffected playing
so the overall effect is one of delicacy. On the other hand
he also takes full advantage of Beethoven’s extreme dynamic
contrasts, such as from soft to very loud at 2:00. Is it over
the top? Brendel would think so as his dynamic contrasts are
more tempered. Even so, Bavouzet more closely realizes Beethoven’s
markings. Brendel’s account has more mature consideration, weight
and poise, but its crafted quality lacks Bavouzet’s grace. On
the other hand you may prefer his starkness to Bavouzet’s vehemence.
In the Scherzo I wondered whether Bavouzet observes Beethoven’s
dynamic markings too scrupulously. They range from very soft
to very loud and Bavouzet allows you to experience this. In
doing so the piece takes on a rather choleric aspect. I prefer
Brendel’s tempering of the dynamics because then the piece emerges
with more wit and sparkle. The Trio is more exhilarating from
the start whereas with Bavouzet it takes a while to become a
presence. Bavouzet’s finale (tr. 12) with pleasingly florid
cascades of semiquavers has more momentum and its dynamic contrasts
emerge stimulatingly. It’s greatly enhanced by a second theme
(1:36) of calm lyricism, undeterred by an ever-cheeky vivacity
that weaves around it. Bavouzet also realizes well the strange
turns in the coda that threaten new dimensions. Brendel savours
the finale more creamily yet in doing so seems more calculated.
Its structure is wonderfully clear, its second theme expansive
in its relaxation. For sheer joy go to Bavouzet.
Op. 7, called by Beethoven ‘Grand Sonata’, suggests a
piece larger than life. Bavouzet certainly gives this impression.
The first movement (CD2, tr. 1) starts innocently enough softly
tripping. He makes it both happily fluent and lyrical. At 0:25
a pair of very loud chords interrupt and gauche leaps appear
first in the left hand, then more outrageously in the right.
The overall effect, however, is exhilarating, especially the
sequences of rising semiquavers Bavouzet takes at a hair-raising
tempo. The stentorian flashes from 1:49 in the exposition codetta
are something altogether more heroic. Brendel is more measured,
expertly balanced, classical, less concerned to shock but less
charged. I missed the intensity of Bavouzet’s progression. The
work moves from the rebellious to the humane and visionary in
a slow movement (tr. 2) which Bavouzet begins warmly and tenderly.
Its shape is very clear in a tempo which from Bavouzet is a
relatively fleet Largo - the movement times at 8:11 against
Brendel’s 9:02. Brendel offers more space for reflection and
more emotion. The six very loud chords that make a sudden contrast
(1:48) have something of truculence from Bavouzet but come with
more weight from Brendel. Bavouzet brings a directness of expression
to the Minuet that makes it almost a life story: at
first smooth and blithe, then a rush of excitement at the end
of the first strain, the second with clouds gathering, passed
over to become even more gleeful. The Trio, though
dark in key and texture, still abounds in energy and a sense
of resolve. Brendel is more playful but also more crafted in
the Minuet and therefore distanced from the experience.
The unusual nature of the finale for Beethoven, a rondo with
a contented sunny, rather nostalgic theme is well caught by
Bavouzet. Even the louder flexing in the bass is more humorous
than gruff. To the central episode he brings a briefly stark
then rather triumphant vigour. In the coda he reveals a more
intimate mood, seriously thoughtful at first but then gentle
and warm in its farewell. Brendel’s finale is considerably more
measured, taking 7:47 against Bavouzet’s 6:40. This makes it
more reflective, the opening of the rondo theme always lovingly
savoured, but less immediate. Brendel’s central episode is,
however, by contrast more waspish and his coda more glowing.
Op. 13, the Pathétique Sonata
is one of Beethoven’s best known. Bavouzet’s interpretation
has an individual feel without being gimmicky. His opening is
imposing, by turns stern and pleading, a graphic introduction
in the poise of whose close time stands still. He is not as
measured, nuanced or anguished as Brendel but with impact and
shape readily appreciable. Then from Bavouzet comes an Allegro
of headlong energy. This is contrast to the more sheerly manic
Brendel and offers a light and dextrous scampering. There’s
a trace of hope in the sense of play as much as a contest between
the two hands. The ‘introduction’ returns twice like a ghost
to keep tragedy in mind. This transforms the Allegro
into something more gaunt and troubled. Bavouzet conveys all
this vividly. The famous slow movement (tr. 6) melody Bavouzet
presents simply, unaffectedly, almost apologetically but at
the same time with a reflective spaciousness which clarifies
its humility and tenderness. The first episode (1:10) opens
out into something more pained if beauteous. The second episode
(2:35) is more troubled, even protesting. Brendel treats the
melody more emotively and the episodes more dramatically. Bavouzet
is content to let the melody speak for itself. The rondo finale
(tr. 7) is all quicksilver fluency in which his and Beethoven’s
mastery of playing with the emotions is evident. The theme itself
is well focused which inevitably makes the first episode (0:20)
seem at first rather diffuse, but later more settled and finally
pungently emphatic. The second episode (1:34) begins nonchalantly
but works itself into cascading waterfalls. I prefer Bavouzet
in this movement for his lighter articulation which makes the
theme more carefree, the first episode more playful and realizes
fiery dynamic contrasts and appreciable pace. It is without
the more brittle manner of Brendel who is ever restless, pressing
increasingly excitably to a frenzied climax.
Op. 14 no. 1 (tr. 8) begins with a cheery, wide-spanned
melody, like simply relaxing breathing in fresh air, disrupted
by sniggers of semiquavers, the expansiveness the more appreciable
in consequence of the surrounding energy. The second theme (0:37)
muses even more airily and is in turn subverted by a finger-drumming
bass. The joy of the piece is that the melodies prove capable
of withstanding all that’s thrown at them and accordingly become
more flexible and hospitable. Bavouzet plays up the subversive
elements but take the movement at a truer Allegro than
the more reflective Brendel whose emphasis is more on harmonic
than rhythmic variation. I prefer Bavouzet’s sense of animated
progression to Brendel’s revealing more of an underlying seriousness.
That is undoubtedly the key to the slow movement, a sombre one
anticipating Brahms with a warmer, more whimsical central section
which ends, however, in a poignant sigh and returns tersely
as coda. It has a folksong-like simplicity yet telling inflection.
While Brendel gives it a well-lit intensity and pain Bavouzet
is more sad in his greater smoothness and this time more pointed
phrasing. The changeable, rather scatty finale (tr. 10) appears
in Bavouzet’s hands a coquettish rondo theme with semiquaver
descents of shallow laughter. There’s also a playful first episode
(0:30) and a similar second one (1:10) despite the elements
of storm and grandeur. Brendel makes the first episode more
poised and the second more imposing. I prefer Bavouzet’s more
tripping rondo theme.
Op. 14 no. 2 (tr. 11) is even more expansive in the opening
movement melody than no. 1. It’s a melody that continues and
decorates itself with greater complexity as it runs along yet
does so gently. The second theme (0:38) is contentedly rather
than ostentatiously happy. There’s a third (1:09) based on the
second part of the second with suave interplay between the hands.
The development sports a vigorous transformation of the head
motif of the opening theme but ends in mid air. Then we are
straight back to the opening calm which is now more appreciable.
Bavouzet catches well the movement’s combination of grace and
character at a truer Allegro than Brendel. Brendel’s greater
measure here shows how every phrase is significant to the whole.
His development is less vigorous than Bavouzet’s, though with
more humour in the bass. His third theme basks in greater warmth.
The second movement (tr.12) is all character, a jovial theme
and variations played by Bavouzet with zest and swagger. Variation
1 (1:17) is more reflective with decoration in the right hand
but later a swinging bass. Variation 2 (2:27) is a study in
cheeky syncopation. Variation 3 (3:47) has the theme smooth
in the bass with semiquaver decoration limpidly realized by
Bavouzet. In this movement Brendel points up the dynamic contrasts
more but also stands a little back from it all. His Variation
1 is more exquisite than Bavouzet’s, his Variation 2 more suave
but while his theme in Variation 3 is more concentrated his
semiquaver decoration is heavier. The Scherzo finale (tr. 13)
is a will-o’-the-wisp rondo which finds Bavouzet now with a
light touch, now boisterous, ever imbued with twinkling mischief.
The central episode (1:00) can serve as a Trio as it offers
glimpses of a more flowing melody. This before the coda transforms
the rondo theme into a tripping whirligig, all deftly presented
by Bavouzet. Brendel is no less playful if a little less rollicking
but he does make more of the disruptive elements in the middle
of the ‘Trio’.
The opening movement of Op. 10 no. 1 (CD3 tr. 1) is strikingly
volatile and Bavouzet brings playing of bright extravagance
to match. The opening theme is emphatic but brief, energetic
and impetuous. In its wake thoughts are tossed away then vigorously
reclaimed. The second theme (0:29) is eased into over an extended
period. It predominates in the development and is later still
transformed. Bavouzet is a clear as well as thoroughly involved
guide. Brendel’s emphasis is on progression, a sweeping one
for the first theme and melting one for the second. To the slow
movement Bavouzet brings simplicity, tenderness and formality.
The latter quality befits the elaborate decoration of its melody
and sense of Beethoven looking back musically as well as forward.
Those brusque demisemiquaver descending flourishes are vividly
realized. Bavouzet also clarifies the aching juxtaposed melody.
Brendel is more measured and stately, taking 9:08 against Bavouzet’s
7:58. Beethoven’s marking is Adagio molto and the structure
of the movement is more readily appreciable at Brendel’s pace.
Tenderness is diminished but Brendel brings impressive conviction
to the later progress of the melody. The finale is gloriously
accomplished with an opening theme that could have a positive
or negative outcome. A second theme starts out as a benign variant
of the first. The development contains a stormy passage including
a precursor of the motif opening the Fifth Symphony yet with
a deeper plunge. Bavouzet brings a manic verve to these pages
which is both outlandish and exhilarating. Brendel is heavier
and more grim; I prefer Bavouzet’s lighter articulation. The
quality of the movement is more appreciable because of Bavouzet’s
bonuses. Firstly there’s the discarded original third movement
Scherzo and Trio. The Scherzo has vigour but
is rather squarely imitative. The Trio makes a pearly
contrast. Secondly William Drabkin has reconstructed from Beethoven’s
sketches his original conception of the fourth movement finale
with a longer development. It’s a neat, pukka job but in mood
the original fourth movement is awkwardly similar to the original
third.
The opening movement of Op. 10 no. 2 (tr. 4), now airy,
now ambitious, refuses to settle. What you remember is the codetta
with a rollicking trill in the bass. From Bavouzet there’s an
especially mercurial development, pause, then much calmer recapitulation,
at least initially. Brendel integrates things more. He’s more
extrovert but less contrasted, not as reflective as Bavouzet.
To the Allegretto second movement Bavouzet brings a
sense of cool, disciplined musing springing from the depths
of consciousness with a vein of pathos before a bright close.
Another foretaste of Brahms, perhaps, but the duskily meditative
central Trio with constant melodic asides is more like
Mendelssohn. Brendel is smoother from the outset but still intense,
less warm and rather sadder in the Trio. Then in the high-spirited,
runaway finale with the façade but not substance of a fugue,
I thought of Grieg. It’s a bit candyflossy in its show yet it
requires discipline too and Bavouzet delivers both nimbly and
with jollity. Brendel, however, enjoys it more and in so doing
brings greater light, shade and humour.
Op. 10 no. 3 is special. Be ready to be carried away
by the exuberance of the lively ascents and descents of the
opening movement’s first theme. Bavouzet is a live wire of striving
and showmanship, so the development (3:33) is a cue for more
boldness of articulation. Brendel is more mellow and thereby
more merry. He lacks Bavouzet’s breathtaking fluency but enjoys
the music and places more emphasis on its melodic aspects. The
elements of the movement are more integrated and you’re conscious
of longer phrase spans. The slow movement (tr. 8) is arguably
the greatest among Beethoven’s early sonatas. Bavouzet presents
it as sad, remote, personal sorrow. It is flowingly projected
with a second theme (1:00) which affords glimpses of happier
times. The central section is warmer, over which flutter vestiges
of hope. This mood is supplanted by a development with writhing
hemidemisemiquavers in the right hand yet followed by a finely
poised coda. Brendel is more measured, formal and funereal,
taking 10:28 in comparison with Bavouzet’s 9:48. He makes the
second theme more of a pleading aria and links this with the
fluttering right hand of the central section, also made more
substantial. His hemidemisemiquavers are more pained. He makes
more of the movement’s dynamic contrasts and his coda is even
more poignant. Bavouzet’s Minuet is notable for its return to
euphony, limpidly executed with a gentle skipping in the second
half of the first strain and an easygoing energy in the second.
His Trio is more sprightly. Brendel uses a good deal of rubato
in this movement. It works well in making the whole more smiling
in its effect. This also serves to point up the relaxation of
its close. That said, you may prefer Bavouzet’s less managed
approach. He catches well the offhand quality of the three-note
motif that is given myriad permutations in a rondo finale (tr.
10). It’s all whimsy, an excuse for sleight of hand which Bavouzet
is happy to oblige. In the mean time a delightful surprise comes
in the shape of the whirligig pirouetting of the first episode
(0:36); the second episode (1:15) is bolder. Again Brendel employs
rubato so his sudden transition to slow pirouetting attracts
more attention to itself. His second episode is more waggish.
Yet his account suggests an inner fire behind its musing which
makes Bavouzet seem more classically detached.
There’s a clean directness about Bavouzet’s playing which matches
the youthful fire of these sonatas and presents them as if freshly
minted. In sum these three discs bring to our ears a significant
achievement.
Michael Greenhalgh
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