Royal Festival Hall
Piano Sonata no.7 in E-flat
major, D 568
Piano Sonata no.14 in A
minor, D 784Piano Sonata no.17 in D major, D 850
Daniel Barenboim (piano)
The third recital in Daniel
Barenboim’s Schubert series of four offered a similarly mixed picture to the
first two, albeit with more of the virtues of the second than the shortcomings
of the first. This Sunday afternoon recital began with the E-flat major Sonata,
D 568. The first movement perhaps tilted more towards the Allegro than the moderato
part of Allegro moderato. A tendency
to pull the material around detracted from Barenboim’s general sense of purpose,
but that need not be exaggerated. It is a fascinating movement, not least when
one knows its original form in D-flat major; Schubert’s expansiveness deserves
cherishing (for the most part), but the development should not seem as if it
were a digression, as occasionally it did here. What Andante molto means is anyone’s guess, but Barenboim’s far from
slow tempo convinced, generally telling but occasionally puzzling rubato
notwithstanding. It was a ‘Romantic’ rather than a ‘Classical’ reading, but one
with a keen ear for harmonic surprise and, for the most part, for proximity to
song. The ‘Menuetto’ is really a scherzo; here Barenboim, not without reason,
brought Schubert closer to Beethoven, although I could not help but wonder
whether a greater touch still of directness might have helped. The finale, to
my ears (and eyes), poised intriguingly between Mozart and Chopin tended more
towards the latter.
The A minor Sonata, D 784,
followed. Pianist and – I suspect – instrument gave a fine impression indeed of
tragic bell tolling at the opening. This was a dark, even grim reading
throughout; the sense of tragedy might have been leavened by post-Mozartian glimpses
of another, better, perhaps unattainable world, but rarely, if at all, on this
occasion. Indeed, throughout the series, I have been a little surprised by the
lack, although not absence, of kinship with Mozart, given Barenboim’s status as
one of our greatest Mozart players and conductors. Perhaps the strange ‘back to
the nineteenth century’ aspect of his new instrument is a factor here. Ghostly
octaves nevertheless seemed to peer into the future: Bruckner, perhaps even
Mahler. Songfulness was the order of the day in the Andante; indeed, I fancied that I could hear a Schubertian brook
welcoming its tragic (anti-)hero for his final bow. The finale fared better
when the playing was hushed rather than vehement; once again, the instruments’ thinness
of tone at forte and above had me
longing for a Bösendorfer. There was, however, no gainsaying the clarity achieved.
The D major Sonata, D 850,
offered much to admire, although not without distractions. At times, the first
movement threatened to run away with itself; a regular pulse never quite
emerged. Syncopations did their markedly non-Beethovenian work in the Con moto movement that follows; here,
Barenboim’s subtlety of touch and keen sense of harmonic preparation and
resolution proved revealing indeed. Those tendencies continued into the
Scherzo, with a duly disconcerting sense of harmonic relaxation achieved in the
Trio. Schubert’s relationship towards Mozart might have been more profoundly
explored in the closing Rondo; although much of the composer’s writing here is
more elaborate, Barenboim did not entirely escape a tendency towards fussiness.
Mozartian simplicity may well be unattainable by this stage, but there is no
harm and indeed much gain in sensing a longing for, perhaps even catching a
glimpse of, that not-so-long-vanished Elysium. Of all the pianists I should never have
expected to veer close to ‘period’ mannerism… Still, one cannot accuse
Barenboim of resting upon his laurels.
