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ROBERT SCHUMANN (1810-1856) Piano Sonata no.1 in F minor
Fantasy (in C major), op.17
LEIF OVE ANDSNES piano
EMI Classics CDH 5 56414-2
[63'49"] full-price
by Chua Gan EeThe inestimable value of the performances on this disc rests solely on its featured artist, therefore I feel it is only right that I begin this review with some words about him. Leif Ove Andsnes is a relatively newcomer to the scene; but has already garnered a whole host of accolades for his remarkable pianism in a few short years. He was recently announced as the winner of the 1998 Gilmore Artist Award, and with it, the prize of US$300,000! Andsnes was born in 1970 in Karmoy, an island off the southwestern coast of Norway, and entered the Bergen Music Conservatory in 1986 where he studied with the eminent Czech pianist Jiri Hlinka. His numerous awards include a number of internationally distinguished prizes.
Andsnes' rapid rise to fame was not via the conventional route of international competitions: he was spotted by a Virgin Classics executive who had heard good things about the Norwegian lad, and was immediately convinced after hearing a recital. Andsnes' debut CD with Virgin Classics, a coupling of Grieg's evergreen Piano Concerto and Liszt's Second, went straight up to the classical charts; and since then, Norway's most talented pianist has been the talk of the town.
A recent EMI (now parent company of Virgin Classics) release offers us the chance to experience Leif Ove Andsnes in Robert Schumann's probing First Sonata and the C major Fantasy. With the opening (Un poco adagio) of the Sonata one can perhaps sense the cold, arctic winds so familiar to Andsnes carrying forth the sombre introduction: a melancholy melody against a backdrop of reiterated broken chords. Just listen to how Andsnes allows the introduction plenty of scope to unfold, as he guides the arching phrases through brief periods of despair and anguish; to a silent but restless pause, before he launches into the first subject (Allegro vivace) preceded by bouncing figures likened to timpani-beats: a statement he does so with a manic nervousness I have never before encountered.
What so amazes me about Andsnes' playing is that he manages seemingly without effort to adopt a wide and variegated array of pianistic colour to shade the different sections of Schumann's score. From start to finish he succeeds to become "one" with Schumann, bringing forth the tremendous mood-swings which run underneath the work like currents. The composer, at that time engaged to Ernestine von Fricken, had dedicated the sonata to Clara von Wieck (with whom he had fallen madly in love), and had done so under his dual-pseudonym of "Eusebius and Florestan"; and I suspect it is exactly this side of him which Andsnes wishes to portray: the hopeless, forlorn Romantic - a lover torn between two loves. Here, the build-up to the re-statement of the motif and its subsequent retreat is so cleverly done to make it sound controlled, yet at the same time, with a passion that is wild and untamed. Mind you, Andsnes is not the pianist to just "let rip": he is always in control, no romantic excesses but with lots of intelligence and enough heart to melt the biggest iceberg.
The quiet second subject is pensive and offers a nice contrast to the music before, and the exposition repeat is faithfully observed. More fantastic pianism can be heard in the development section, where Andsnes characterises the churning episodes well, and the music returns to its initial moody ambience as the motifs recur in various guises. In Andsnes' hands the coda adopts a certain fatalism, and rightly so as the first movement quietly retreats into the rueful silence from which it had emerged.
The second movement (Aria: Senza passione, ma espressivo) derives most of its material from the second subject of its predecessor; and, as the booklet-notes tell me, is representative of Eusebius' nature. Andsnes withdraws into a nostalgic state to give a heartwarming and full-toned reading of this lovely trumerei, which once numbered among its fans the indefatigable Franz Liszt.
The high-spirited third movement is really a scherzo which, in place of a traditional trio or two, incorporates a teasing Intermezzo. Andsnes does not hurry into the opening, but leaves it sufficient space to unfold into a work of considerable individuality and character. His Allegrissimo is taken not too quickly, with much vitality and strength perhaps bringing to mind that this movement, probably more so than the rest, posseses a nature more akin to symphonic thought: which Schumann duly gives away with the instruction "Quasi oboe".
If the previous movement sought to personify Schumann's Eusebius, then surely this multi-sectional scherzo would serve as the embodiment of the composer's Florestan. The cheeky Intermezzo, alla burla, ma pomposo is a mock ceremonial polonaise that concludes with an 'operatic' recitative. There is certainly much to enjoy in Andsnes' view of this movement, especially how he manages to infuse the recitative section with enough personality to make it sound real! Fascinating verve and conviction too in his focused approach which does not allow the music to fall apart before the final note.
The chordal opening of the last movement (Finale: Allegro un poco maestoso) rises triumphantly and descends to a cadence, which introduces various lyrical passages punctuated intermittently by capriccio-like passages. Andsnes obliges with an inherent heroism in the quicker sections, and a great deal of warmth in the softer, more relaxed episodes. This huge sonata-rondo again emphasises the young Schumann's pre-occupation with orchestral textures (sometimes grandiose), even in solo instrumental music. Just listen to those massive chords and shimmering, "string"-like figures which pervade this highly-charged finale: a good indication of the imminent symphonies from the composer's pen.
Andsnes plays the reiterating main theme with pomp and lots of confidence, and colours the other sections with "grey-ish" tones, underlining the melancholy of Robert Schumann, the composer and his 'Eusebius-Florestan' complex. Throughout, sensitivity to orchestral sound and texture is evident, and one cannot help but think that this, indeed, is (as coined by Schumann's publisher) a "concert sans orchestre" ("concert without orchestra"), its dimensions notwithstanding. Scholars since have deemed this opus as one of the composer's weakest, due to its unimaginative and long-winded thematic/developmental approaches. Andsnes, I'm certain, surely doesn't think so; and his performance here attests to that.
The Fantasy, op.17 took as its inspiration a verse by Friedrich Schlegel, german writer & critic:
Durch alle Tne tnet
Im bunten Erdentraum
Ein leiser Ton gezogen
Fr den, der heimlich
Lauschet.Among all the sounds
In the bright dream of earthly life
There is emitted a soft tone
For him who listens in
Secret.
The Fantasy stems also from Schumann's "Eusebius-Florestan" creative period, in which his sole inspiration was the lovely Clara Wieck (right), and this work more so than the F-sharp minor sonata smacks entirely of her.
The first movement, Durchaus phantastisch und leidenschaftlich vorzugetragen ("To be played fantastically and passionately throughout"), opens arrestingly as Andsnes sweeps through the left-hand figures and allows the octave-melody to sing through its dense cloud. Here, the theme is elaborated lovingly, constantly reappearing throughout with its running accompaniment. The "Im Legendenton" section brings Eusebius to the fore, as Andsnes retreats into deep contemplation and occasional aggression (re: "mood-swings").
A jaunty Florestan inhabits the second movement (Mig Durchaus energisch) as Andsnes transforms the mood with the opening chords, all of a sudden, into vibrant jubilation. The theme of this scherzo-like, grand march is varied upon each appearance; and culminates in a notoriously difficult coda where both hands leap in the opposite directions to the keyboard's extremes. This feat does not faze our helden-pianist as he confidently scales the heights of this work with unfaltering intensity, and finishes with an uncompromising zeal.
Left: "Wanderer Over a Sea of Clouds" by Caspar David Friedrich, c.1815.
The final, hymnic movement (Langsam getragen Durchweg leise zu halten) brings back Eusebius, and is perhaps Schumann's most poignant composition. Andsnes' concentration, almost mesmeric in its power, never fails him, as he phrases endlessly the introspective music; while Schumann quietly crafts his own monument to Beethoven (this opus was initially intended to commemorate the master at a memorial in Bonn). In the coda, Andsnes finally succeeds in transporting the listener to the transcendental dimension in which, we can only speculate, Beethoven himself sought to arrive at in his late works.
This disc is available at or can be ordered from Sing Music (Raffles City), Borders (Wheelock Place), HMV (The Heeren) or Tower Records (Pacific Plaza & Suntec City).
In his afterword, Chua Gan Ee insists that everyone should grab this disc and enjoy the good "Leif"!
Back to the Classical Index!... or read previous piano features at the InkpotOther classical music reviews by this or any other writer can be obtained from the InkVault by doing a key word search with the writer's name.
294: 14.9.98
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