Anton Kuerti, piano
April 9, 2004
Program
6 Bagatelles, Op. 126
No. 1 in G Major: Andante con moto
No. 2 in G minor: Allegro
No. 3 in E flat Major: Andante
No. 4 in B minor: Presto
No. 5 in G Major: Quasi allegretto
No. 6 in E flat Major: Presto; Andante amabile e con moto
Sonata No. 31 in A flat Major, Op. 110
Moderato cantabile molto espressivo
Allegro molto
Adagio, ma non troppo;
Fuga: Allegro ma non troppo
Intermission
Sonata No. 30 in E Major, Op. 109
Vivace ma non troppo; Adagio espressivo
Prestissimo
Gesangvoll, mit innigster Empfindung
Sonata No. 14 in C Sharp minor Op. 27 No. 2
(Sonata Quasi una Fantasia) ("Moonlight Sonata")
Adagio sostenuto
Allegretto
Presto
Program notes abridged from the notes on Mr. Kuerti's CD's:
Bagatelles, Op. 126
These six mercurial and contrasting vignettes are Beethoven's last significant piano works. Their relative brevity (the six together are nonetheless longer than quite a few of the shorter sonatas) in no way should lead to the conclusion that they are of little value. They are filled with deep and often ethereal expression, so that one might indeed say they are not a mere "bagatelle", defined by Webster's as "something of no importance". Together with the Diabelli Variations, they are the only works which adjoin the period of his last 5 string quartets, and approach their style, though they are indeed far less complex.
Sonata No. 31 in A flat Major, Op. 110
Op. 110 is the most accessible and the most popular of the late sonatas. Its unabashedly melodic opening tenderly sings out two consecutive full-fledged tunes, something almost unique among the Beethoven sonatas, which with rare exceptions start with ideas, motives or patterns, rather than singable melodies.
Which of these exquisite tunes is the principal subject? The first sounds so casual and unpretentious and is so very short that one could easily assume it to be merely an introduction to the even more ravishing, soaring shape of its successor. The question is clarified in the development, which uses the first tune exclusively, adding a flowing bass-line and introducing an occasional touch of pathos to it; and it is settled when the same tune initiates the recapitulation. Examining these two themes closely, one can find enough points of similarity to contend that the first represents the distilled essence of the second.
With the exception of one astounding downward harmonic slide in the recapitulation that feels like a momentary attack of amnesia, all parts of this movement are "normal" (insofar as any accomplishment of genius can be normal), i.e., they might have been written much earlier. This may be true of its parts, but looking at the whole, its aristocratic beauty has such refinement, such peaceful maturity and such a spiritual perspective, that it clearly belongs among the late works.
The Allegro molto is a short, highly dramatic movement, serving the function of a scherzo, though it is in 2/4 time. Its third strain gives a fleeting glimpse of a rollicking street song, but it quickly reverts to its original severity. It is in the Trio that we first visit mysterious, other-worldly realms found so often in the late works. A cascading figure with unpredictable chromatic aberrations, crossing through its own pointillistic accompaniment, gives a penetrating sense of anxiety and surrealistic confusion.
The unique designed finale commences with an improvisatory recitativo, clearly introductory in character, its harmonies and tempo wandering freely. Its vocal character is confirmed by Beethoven's use of the terms "recitativo" and "Arioso dolente". This "plaintive song" now starts to sing forth its song of woe, heavy with sadness, while still retaining much of the spontaneous, exploratory mood of the opening.
The Arioso gives way to a fugue, and if the former was vocal, certainly the latter must be choral. With sober austerity its subject rises gradually in an interlocking chain of fourths, its powerful motion absolutely constant. As the emotions swell mightily to a magnificent climax, the subject appears boldly in octaves, deep in the bass, further intensifed by extending the chain of fourths beyond the three pairs in the theme to a full six pairs, as though nothing could stop it from swelling on, ever higher.
After a second massive climax, the harmony unexpectedly sags down a half-step to G minor, and we find ourselves back in the Arioso, exhausted and weakened (Beethoven's own terms). The rhythms are even more indecisive than before, and the section closes with a series of chords, each on the weakest part of the beat. These massive chords break the depressed mood of the Arioso, and lead us to a new fugue, whose subject is the inversion of the first fugue's subject. It has a lighter and more innocent character than the first, because it is in a higher, less vibrant register of the instrument, and because its descending fourths are far more gracious than the more deliberate and formal ascending forths of the first fugue,
A full length second fugue would give the movement a static, academic balance, so after each voice has stated the subject, Beethoven immediately pursues a different agenda. The mood becomes restless as the subject is heard in diminution (in this case that means three times faster than before), its faster notes flitting by nervously and rapidly.
A curiously ambiguous change of pace slows the pulse but simultaneously doubles the speed of the moving voices. This is an integral part of the plot, which is to gradually transform the accelerated subject into a richly waving accompaniment under which the real subject returns triumphantly. From here to the conclusion, the music swells and strains heroically, its expression disarmingly warm and open, inviting all to rejoice and resonate with its happy fervour.
Sonata No. 30 in E Major, Op. 109
Few works make such a powerful impact in such a short space of time as the Sonata in E Major, Op. 109. Each movement is like a haiku, beautifully formed, not wasting a word, yet making a very significant point. The first movement gives us perhaps the finest integration of Beethoven's formal and improvisatory styles, molded into a very tightly-compressed, yet smooth sonata form. This results in an uncanny sensation of the utmost freedom superimposed on absolute order and organization - something which one fervently wishes could also be achieved in the political sphere.
The first theme radiates an easy-going warmth and leads immediately into the second theme, where the tempo abruptly changes and it is here that we witness the Master improvising with very simple materials, mainly arpeggios. The development is based entirely on the first subject and consists of one glorious crescendo leading to one of the most electrifying transformations in all of Beethoven's music: the friendly, unpretentious, smooth main theme is pounded out white-hot, now two octaves higher, each note piercing us with its extraordinary expressive power. As in most of his late works, Beethoven introduces one wisp of a new theme in the coda. It is like a commentary by another voice, sounded from the distance.
The wild and tumultuous Prestissimo is a précis of sonata form, with every element reduced to a stark minimum. The stern bass line from the opening theme is the main component of the development section. Here, its original furor dissipated, it is used in a flowing lyrical vein, but still retains a dark and threatening countenance.
After this storm, what a beautiful sensation it is as the last movement sings out the heavenly theme for its variations. All turmoil is gone, and we are engulfed by serene yet powerful expression. The treatment of the variations is quite free, using fragments of the theme's melody, harmony, and rhythm interchangeably.
Variation 2 is really a combination of two distinct variations. First we hear a transparent, delicate skeleton of the theme, atomized and dispersed into tiny mysterious droplets. Instead of repeating this, it alternates with the other part of the variation, which develops the theme's seminal descending third.
An unexpected lively change of mood ushers in the short third variation, with the descending third so dominant in the theme inverted so that ascending thirds now vault over each other, followed by a hammered, compressed version of the second half of the theme.
The flowing lines of the next variation are of incomparable elegance, bubbling gently through each other, entwining themselves gracefully and contentedly. This pure and idyllic flow leaves us unprepared for the delightfully esoteric colours and the ecstatic outburst of passion that rocks the second half.
Variation 5 is a vibrant and insistent fugato, relentlessly piling up entries of its motive (also based on the descending third), andstorming from one end of the keyboard to the other.
1t would be hard to find a more stirring and noble moment in all of music than the climax of the final variation. Slowly and inexorably, the volume, the motion and the tension all increase, heightened by incessant trilling, until we reach a magic moment when all restraints are unleashed in a heaven-storming passage that roars up and down with excruciating poignancy. This could be interpreted either as a cadenza or as a free variation on the second half of the theme; probably it is both.
The whole meaning of the sonata seems to be brilliantly illuminated during these extraordinary moments; and when the light gradually dims the meaning remains and even gains in intensity, as the theme is repeated. How stunningly different the exact same notes seem when we hear them again after the variations have been experienced. It is like the difference between the opening and the closing of a door - a door through which, in the meantime, Beethoven has transported us.
Op. 27 No. 2
Why has the first movement of the so-called "Moonlight" Sonata become so notorious? One of Beethoven's most abstract creations, gathering its force from its texture and its subtle yet powerful harmonic processes, this is hardly the sort of music one would expect to become so popular. Perhaps its success is attributable as much as anything to the excellent public relations promoted by its spurious title.
These assertions are in no way meant to reflect on the quality of the work: it is without a doubt one of Beethoven's most original and inspired creations, spanning a wide range of emotions from the hypnotic, solemn lament of the first movement, to the tragic and overpowering passion of the last. However, its very fame, and its commercial degradation - indeed vandalization - by people like Mantovani, has wrought permanent damage.
In fact it has been deprived of its rightful place in the serious concert hall just because it has been played too often, and exploited by the crass hucksters of Muzak-type mood music. Perhaps even more unfortunate is that the general public has thereby come to have a completely distorted impression of its real atmosphere; it has been over-dramatized and over-romanticized almost (but unfortunately, not quite) to the point of unrecognizability. For Beethoven wrote at the top of the page that "the entire Adagio is to be played with the
utmost delicacy" and marked most of it pp, with only an occasional swell and no indication of any dynamic level exceeding p. Thus the performer who plays it in an authentic manner will likely be accused of not making it powerful and dramatic enough, yet its greatest effect comes when performed with the utmost subtlety and restraint.
Even Beethoven was annoyed at the popularity of this piece during his lifetime, and is reported to have said "Everyone is always talking about my C sharp minor Sonata, I have truly written better things. The Sonata in F sharp Major (Op. 78), that is quite a different matter entirely!" But this may reflect a composer's natural preference for his latest creations, and should not lower our esteem for this masterwork.
It is the only Beethoven Sonata which has a full-length Adagio as its opening movement. The accompaniment is crucial in establishing the mood; the gentle but ineluctable procession of triplets transfixes us until they finally cease just before the closing chords.
The second movement is the shortest possible menuetto, gracious and fragile. Its effect is magnified by its position between the two overpowering outer movements - Liszt called it "a flower between two abysses". It is a sophisticated flower, however, despite its apparent simplicity, for hidden within it lies a canon between the treble and the tenor voices.
The finale is one of Beethoven's most intense and violent outbursts, full of merciless shocks, roaring sonorities and pleading melodies. The main subject starts with the identical three notes which initiated the first movement, and is obviously derived from them, although they have nothing else in common. It is in sonata form, and if we try to imagine what it would be like if it had been cast as a Rondo, we can sense the necessity for using the more dramatic form for such angry contents.
It is the breathless second theme which dominates the development, and its effect is exquisitely magnified and darkened when it is transferred from the treble to the bass. The unrelieved odour of minor wafts throughout the movement, except for one moment in the development when the second theme briefly touches major. To close this masterwork off in majestic fashion, a bitter and spectacular cadenza is introduced in the coda, which crystallizes the desperate character of the entire piece.
About the pianist
Pianist Anton Kuerti was born in Austria, grew up in the U.S., and has lived in Canada for the last 35 years. His teachers included Arthur Loesser, Mieczyslaw Horszowski and Rudolf Serkin. At the age of 11 he performed the Grieg Concerto with Arthur Fiedler, and he was still a student when he won the famous Leventritt Award.
Anton Kuerti has toured 31 countries, including Japan, Russia, and most European countries, and has performed with most major North American orchestras and conductors, such as the N.Y. Philharmonic, National Symphony (Menuhin), Cleveland Orchestra (Szell), Philadelphia Orchestra (Ormandy), and the orchestras of Atlanta, Denver, Detroit, Pittsburgh, St. Louis, and San Francisco. His vast repertoire includes some 50 concertos, including one he composed himself.
In Canada Kuerti has appeared in about 140 communities from coast to coast, and has played with every professional orchestra, including 41 concerts with the Toronto Symphony. As a chamber musician, he has performed the major repertoire with such artists as Gidon Kremer, Yo-Yo Ma, Janos Starker, Barry Tuckwell, and the Cleveland, Guarneri, and Tokyo String Quartets. Kuerti is one of today's most recorded artists, having put on disc all the Beethoven Concertos and Sonatas, the Schubert Sonatas, the Brahms concertos and works by many other composers; these recordings are heard almost daily on the CBC.
Kuerti is an Officer of the Order of Canada, and has received several honourary doctorates. According to CD Review (London), Anton Kuerti is 'one of the truly great pianists of this century'.
You can visit Anton Kuerti's home page on the internet at: