Cover of the box set being discussed (courtesy of PIAS)
The last of the fourteen CDs in the harmonia mundi box set of performances of the piano music of Ludwig van Beethoven by Paul Lewis consists of only a single composition, the Opus 120 collection of 33 variations on a waltz theme given to the composer by the music publish Anton Diabelli. This is also the latest composition in the collection, composed in 1823, the year after Beethoven completed his last piano sonata, Opus 111 in C minor. In many respects listening to this music comes close to being almost as difficult as playing it. Nevertheless, I have to say that my most memorable concert experience of this piece came in October of 2013, when András Schiff presented a program that coupled it with Johann Sebastian Bach’s BWV 988 set of 30 (“Goldberg”) variations on an aria theme.
In that context I have to say that I can count on Schiff to hold my attention for just about any solo piano recital he decides to prepare! Listening to Opus 120 on a recording, however, is another matter. I have done this a few times in the past, one of which involved my following the piano part while listening. Even with that score acting a bit like a crutch, I still find myself contending with fatigue when I am not sitting there in a concert hall watching the pianist as well as listening to him/her.
That said, I have to note that I do have a favorite in my collection of recordings, which seems to have come closest to holding my attention effectively from beginning to end. This is another harmonia mundi release which has Andreas Staier playing a fortepiano modeled after a design by Conrad Graf. To be fair, however, Staier’s ability to hold the listener’s attention arises only in part from his approach to interpreting Beethoven. That is because the Graf design was one of those that also allowed for interjections of percussion-based “special effects.” In other words Staier maintained attention more through his ability to surprise the listener when attention might be beginning to flag than through his attentive reading of Beethoven’s score!
Performing on a modern instrument, Lewis was not in a position to haul out any “special effects.” His is a straightforward reading; and, in that context, he gives as satisfying an account of Beethoven’s marks on paper as one might expect. Nevertheless, it is hard to avoid the feeling that Opus 120 is some kind of Mount Everest that any pianist worth his salt is expected to climb. More often than not, those ascents feel more like endurance tests; and I suspect that this set of variations is better experienced in performance than on recording.
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