This
recital, presented by The Anglo-Austrian Music
Society, was dedicated to Hedi Stadlen (née
Simon), philosopher, political activist and
musicologist, who died recently at the age
of 88. She was married to another Austrian
Jewish emigrant, the eminent pianist, musicologist
and music critic Peter Stadlen, who died eight
years ago. Owing to both we now know about
the correct intentions of Beethovenīs metronome
markings.
They
were inseparable as a couple. Having been
introduced to them at the ROH in the late
seventies, I remember vividly all the many
quite often short, but honest, deeply involving
but polite conversations we had before or
during the interval of a concert or a first
night at the opera I could not imagine that
it would finally come to an end. Hedi Stadlen
did not have any musical background, but thanks
to her rich and fulfilled marriage she knew
more about music than most of us critics.
I personally miss her very much. Once she
said, and I quote from the inlet to the concert
program, "the contribution made by Hitlerīs
émigrés will be a good omen
that current waves of émigrés
from other tyrannies may be equally allowed
to enrich the cultural life of Great Britain."
One can only be ashamed of our current government.
After
a short recollection of Hedi Stadlenīs life
by the Chairman of the Anglo-Austrian Music
Society the pretty and still only 25 years
old Romanian pianist Mihaela Ursuleasa, winner
of the Clara Haskil Competition in 1995, came
on stage. I had missed her London debut at
the South Bank in March 2002 and was, therefore,
eager to hear her play what, on paper, appeared
a promising program. Yet, despite showing
us her huge potential there were many general
shortcomings.
Her
playing turned out to be far too involved.
Sadly, her long black hair covered her face
too often, and when she got too intimate with
the music, or the instrument, or both, one
could no longer admire her `brilliantī mimicry.
Her entire posture gave the impression of
extreme tension, something she has to overcome
for her own futures sake. She started with
Beethovenīs 15 Variations and a Fugue in E
flat on an original theme, op.35, the Eroica
Variations. It is a warhorse with endless
differentiations in mood and character, but
despite the first enormous fff chord
in E flat, those Variations are still by Beethoven
and not by Liszt. Her phrasing possessed far
too many mannerisms and her interpretation
felt like a journey from volcanic energy to
boredom, from kitsch to Viennese `Heurigenī.
Her staccato, and also her fortissimo, are
painful and turned out to be merely an effect
without tonal expression. Her pianissimo
is often hardly audible and the sound does
not sustain, but disappears at once. She plays
in extremes and with far too much use of the
right pedal.
All
of this did not help the dimension of the
four movements of Schubertīs rarely played
Sonata No.18 in G, D894 either. It was very
difficult to follow the structure of Schubertīs
intimate - and for his time - unusual thinking
because she extended Schubertīs spacious tempi
even further, and too often without the necessary
legato. She herself seemed very much involved,
but her interpretative skills did not involve
me.
After
the interval she surprised with the short,
but lively Sonata No.2 in G by Paul Hindemith,
a composer sadly neglected in this country.
She would have done this delicate work more
proud with less pedalling. Finally, with Prokofievīs
Sonata No.7, Op.83, the second of his three
`war sonatasī, Mihaela Ursuleasa was in her
element as a powerful player with great technical
abilities. The concluding Precipitato made
her jump up and down from her chair. Her recital
showed a healthy ego and an undoubted love
for making music, but not yet the humbleness
and surging honesty of her compatriots Clara
Haskil or Dinu Lipati in the music of these
composers. At the end she invited the audience
backstage to have her new privately manufactured
CD signed. Finally, she explained publicly,
why she choose the works she played. She loves
them all and she wanted to confront the audience
with works of extremes. It seems the audience
had not realised that.
Hans-Theodor
Wohlfahrt