When Beethoven wrote a set of three works such as violin sonatas or string quartets he normally gave them strongly contrasting characters. Although his last three piano concertos were not created as a set, but spanned about a decade in their composition, they nevertheless exhibit a similar level of contrast. No.3 is stormy and agitated; No.4 is gentle and lyrical; and No.5 is grand and majestic - so much so that in English-speaking countries it has gained the nickname ‘Emperor'. Thus they could hardly be more different in mood, yet each one in its own way is thoroughly characteristic of the composer. One of Beethoven's earliest sketches for Piano Concerto No.3 dates from about 1796 and shows him already experimenting with new sonorities, with a prominent motif being allocated to the timpani part - which normally played a merely accompanying role in orchestral music at the time. However, little progress was made on the work until 1800, when it was taken up in preparation for a concert that April. Unfortunately it was not ready in time and Beethoven had to substitute a different concerto (probably No.1). He did not finally complete No.3 until 1803, and at its first performance that year he had to play the piano part largely from memory as he had still not had time to write it out in full. His page-turner at the première, Ignaz von Seyfried, reports of having to turn pages that were largely blank apart from a few hieroglyphs that only Beethoven could read! Although the first movement is stormy in character it has a beautifully lyrical second subject; Beethoven cunningly transformed this theme almost beyond recognition to form the main theme of the sublime slow movement. This evokes a completely different and more exalted world, in the remote key of E major, with a reduced orchestra and muted strings. The key of C minor returns in the finale, but there is one brief excursion back to E major, as if recalling that exalted world; and the music ends in a blaze of glory, in a triumphant C major. Piano Concerto No.4 breaks with all previous tradition by beginning with solo piano instead of the usual extended orchestral ritornello. This unexpected opening signals that the relationship between piano and orchestra will be closer than normal; and although the orchestra quickly takes over for its customary ritornello, this does not conclude with the usual cadence but breaks off in mid-phrase, with the piano re-entering quietly in contrast to its dramatic entrance in No.3. The slow movement is unusually brief, and scored just for strings and piano, which engage in a dramatic dialogue throughout. Initially the strings sound angry, but the gentle pleading of the piano gradually softens them until they die away to a hushed pianissimo. The similarity to the ‘Taming of the Furies' by Orpheus is unmistakable, and has led many to assume that this is what Beethoven was attempting to portray. Yet there is no reference to Orpheus in anything written or said by Beethoven about the movement, and it seems unwise to narrow the music down to a single myth; better, surely, to regard the music as emblematic of all situations where anger is calmed by gentleness - of which Orpheus and the Furies form just one instance. One factor that makes the first two movements of this concerto particularly tender is the absence of trumpets and drums. In the finale, however, these finally burst in and create a sense of much greater exuberance, although there are still many gentler passages that remind us of the mood of the rest of the work. Although the concerto was composed mainly in 1806 it had to wait until December 1808 for its public première - at a four hour all-Beethoven concert. On that occasion Beethoven played the concerto very ‘mischievously' according to his pupil Carl Czerny, adding many more notes than were printed, and sketchy indications of these extra notes are found in one of Beethoven's manuscripts. Nevertheless the work has become known, like No.3, in its printed version, with the only addition in both cases being cadenzas that Beethoven composed in 1809 for another of his pupils, Archduke Rudolph. The success of the 1808 concert may have induced Beethoven to begin another concerto almost immediately, early in 1809. Increasing deafness, however, meant that he was never to play Piano Concerto No.5 in public; and although he began a Sixth Piano Concerto in 1815, he composed only part of the first movement before laying it aside. In the Fifth, Beethoven again breaks with tradition by introducing the piano very early, but this time to provide ornate decoration to three emphatic orchestral chords before the main theme gets under way. The second subject is heard first in the minor but then reappears transformed in the major, and is later heard sounding like a majestic march. In this form it is accompanied by just two alternating chords, so that the two timpani between them can play the entire bass line (if the music is in the right key). Therefore, as in the Third Piano Concerto, Beethoven gives the timpani an important part to play. Another feature that recalls the Third Concerto is that the theme of the slow movement is again a disguised version of the second subject of the first movement - that march theme is now transformed into a serene, hymn-like melody. Again, Beethoven uses a remote key - this time B major - and omits the trumpets and timpani. The music eventually modulates back to E flat, with a tentative hint of the theme of the next movement, thus providing a seamless join to the finale. Here the theme is announced by the piano before being taken up by the orchestra. The main bass line for this theme uses only two notes - the same two as in the march theme in the first movement - and so it can again be played in its entirety by the timpani. Even in the final coda the timpani have an important part to play, in an extraordinary passage for just solo piano and timpani, where the latter pick up an accompanying figure that had previously been played only by other instruments. Beethoven's remarkable level of invention, whether of thematic manipulation, key relationships or orchestration, remains in evidence right to the very end. © Barry Cooper, 2009 Track Listing: Disc One 1. Piano Concerto No.3 in C minor, Op.37 - Allegro con brio 2. Piano Concerto No.3 in C minor, Op.37 - Largo 3. Piano Concerto No.3 in C minor, Op.37 - Rondo allegro 4. Piano Concerto No.4 in G major, Op.58 - Allegro moderato 5. Piano Concerto No.4 in G major, Op.58 - Andante con moto 6. Piano Concerto No.4 in G major, Op.58 -Rondo vivace Disc Two 7. Piano Concerto No.5 in E flat major, Op.73 'Emperor'-Allegro 8. Piano Concerto No.5 in E flat major, Op.73 'Emperor' - Adagio un poco mosso 9. Piano Concerto No.5 in E flat major, Op.73 'Emperor' - Rondo: Allegro, ma non troppo Reviews: 14 April 2009 BBC Music Magazine Michael Tanner These performances, made in Perth (Scotland) Town Hall last November, strike me as attractive but under-characterised. Take the opening movement of the Third Concerto, one of Beethoven's great C minor movements. It is marked ‘Allegro con brio', but with its obvious indebtedness to Mozart's concerto in the same key, K491, it needs to be both menacing and stealthy, and, a little later, fierce. Nothing that Mackerras conducts ever sounds placid, but this does come dangerously close to that. And while Artur Pizarro makes a fine partner for the Scottish Chamber Orchestra, he does seem to want to keep things on a conversational rather than combative level. This works far better in the sublime slow movement, which floats serenely past precisely as it should. The last movement is playful and full of suprises, but again I would have expected more asperity from the orchestra. The Fourth Concertos, that elusive, quietly intense work, again sounds a little workaday. The first movement's second subject, which should have an underlying tragic quality, is deprived of any ambiguity. The orchestra is not aggressive enough in the slow movement, so it's easily tamed by the soloist. It's in the Emperor Concerto that everyone seems to enjoy themselves most, though I could do with more muscle power for the last movement than Pizarro commands. Throughout, the recorded sound is ideal. 14 April 2009 Musical Pointers Peter Grahame Woolf This must be one of the very best, but we don't indulge in comparative reviews and stars. It evinces happy cooperation between all concerned, with our leading octogenarian conductor and a great pianist who has proved himself through winning the Leeds competition long ago, and by important Beethoven sonata recordings as well as much else - especially for us, Blackheath's fondly remembered pianoworks festivals 10 years ago. The great Scottish Chamber Orchestra (Linn names its every member in the liner notes), a fine Bluthner piano (which makes a huge difference) and a class technical team working in a perfect recording venue at Perth complete the recipe... This twofer offers musical and sonic pleasures to surpass most live concerto performance experiences, and for connoisseurs the interpretations are full of delightful details best enjoyed at home. I have been pleased to confirm that Pizarro's double disc is being sold two-for-one at top price, £13. That seems fair, and purchasers should not look for cheaper Beethoven concerto sets, of which there are doubtless plenty... 04 May 2009 BBC Online Michael Quinn Mackerras and the Scottish Chamber Orchestra come to Beethoven's piano concertos trailing glory in their wake following a well-received symphony cycle in 2007 and last year's universally admired set of late Mozart symphonies. Beethoven's last and pivotal piano concertos set their own strongly contrasted array of challenges for a musical partnership led by an 83-year-old conductor whose career began in the now long-distant era of 78s, and who is clearing relishing his Indian summer, and a soloist barely half his age whose own recordings of the Beethoven sonatas were praised for their ''re-creative energy and exuberance''. Those qualities are also to the fore in these expansive but fleetly realised accounts of concertos that usher in the transition from ornamented classical daintiness to concentrated romantic drama. Originally intended to include just the Third and Fourth Concertos, the addition of the Emperor was the happy result of Pizarro, Mackerras and his crack Scottish band powering through the original programme to leave time enough to capture the coupling. It's a mark of the journey they make, from the stormy, experimental sonorities of the Third to the majestic rhetoric of the Fifth via the tender lyricism of the Fourth that this turns out to be a remarkably coherent, hugely enjoyable offering rich in invention and altogether assured in execution. These studio readings exult in the vital spontaneity and alert reciprocity more typical of a live performance. Pizarro's blend of perfectly proportioned poetry, dancing lyricism and muscular prowess calls to mind earlier performances by Kempff, Kovacevich and Gilels while bringing a fresh, questing dynamism all his own to bear. He negotiates the tempestuous currents of the Third with an almost insouciant nimbleness that serves the music's impetuous, truculent demeanour. In the Fourth, he is lullaby-tender and effusively lyrical yet manages to retain the darkly alluring gravity that underpins its nobility and poise. Perhaps lacking just that last ounce of courage in the Fifth, Pizarro's reading is nonetheless lithe and lyrical, its outer movements solid and serious, the inner Adagio sweetly sung. The Scottish Chamber Orchestra play as to the manor born, Mackerras multi-faceted and magnificent, the recorded sound up to Linn's usual high standards. 04 May 2009 Sunday Herald Frank Carroll The Scottish Chamber Orchestra and Sir Charles Mackerras follow their award-winning recordings of Mozart symphonies with this new double-CD release from Linn Records of Beethoven Piano Concertos Nos 3, 4 and 5. Joining them as soloist is Portuguese virtuoso, Artur Pizarro. The fusion of superb orchestral playing, impressive solo artistry and the intellectual perception of that amazing octogenarian on the podium, when combined with the excellence of Linn's spacious recorded sound, produces a really compelling, not to say inspirational, collection of Beethoven's last three concertos for the keyboard. That special fusion of scholarly maturity and youthful joie de vivre that is Mackerras is in evidence throughout, as the marvellously assured players of the SCO respond to his deep understanding of the music's expressive possibilities. Although not created as a set by the composer (a gap of around 10 years separates No 3 from No 5), there is nevertheless a certain similarity in their compositional architecture. In round terms, No 3 is turbulent and even fierce, No 4 is tender and intense, and No 5 is majestic - explaining its nickname "Emperor". And, of course, overall they are unmistakably Beethoven. The opening movement of the Third Concerto, the C Minor, immediately suggests the intimate scale of these performances with a relaxed Pizarro at once poetic and energetic, before going into a slow movement of radiant serenity and a finale bristling with charm and revelation. In the Fourth Concerto, Pizarro treats us to the most delicate of playing, with tone colour exquisite in its shading and lyricism, before surging off into an exhilarating finale. The Emperor, when it comes, is strong and reflective with distinctive poetic moments. Throughout this impressive collection, Pizarro, the SCO and Mackerras combine to present outstanding performances, always satisfying and frequently inspiring. |
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