Saturday, June 27, 2020

Beethoven's 32 with Llŷr Williams

Llyr Williams's Beethoven sonata cycle, one of the most extraordinary feats of musicianship in our still new century, had been scheduled at the Guadalajara, Mexico, music festival in 2020 as part of the composer's 250th anniversary celebration. The series was deferred, however, because of the pandemic. (It looks as though the series will appear at last in Guadalajara in May 2024. Follow the artist's website for future details: LlyrWilliams.com ).

Instead of streaming from an empty concert hall in 2020, the program was recorded in Williams's own home. The cozy environment (one expects a tray of Welsh breakfast tea and scones to appear any moment) provided a refreshing new experience of one of Beethoven's towering achievements. Eight videos of the complete cycle appeared on YouTube during June 2020; however, were dropped at the end of the month. There may be a still photo or two from the recordings hanging around YouTube if you search diligently.

The good news is that Williams's cycle is available, audio only, in a 2018 recording made in Wigmore Hall. Search for "Beethoven Unbound" 12-CD set or mp3 at amazon.com or other music distributors.

Mastering "The 32" is the aim of many of the classical world's finest pianists, but Williams does more than that: he liberates them. With clarion-bright tones, a sure touch--powerful but never jolting--and a memory for every staccato dot and pedal release (impressive to a non-pianist like myself, but de rigueur for serious musicians ), the artist presents a Beethoven of intelligence, wit, and a universe of feelings: eager, bold, and mystical. 

Signum Classics, SIGCD527 - Recorded Wigmore Hall, London, U.K. - 12 CDs, Booklet in English - Signumrecords.com 

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Photo copyright Nikolay Nersesov











Wednesday, June 24, 2020

The Sounds of Silence

Listening to a lot of live music, YouTubes and streaming during the past few years has really sensitized me to the silence between movements in classical music. I rarely work with mp3s, but bought one today and was stunned to realize I couldn't tell how long the artist chose to pause, if at all, between movements.

In the recital hall, the artist decides how long to pause. That decision may be aesthetic, biological, or simply the need to wait for the pent-up coughing to stop. Yet that pause becomes part of the creative process. With digital recordings, on the other hand, the listener--you or me--decides whether to keep going or break for lunch.

I had no idea that negative space between sections could be so important in listening to a multi-movement composition. And imagine the reverse. What if a sound engineer decided to chop up Beethoven's fluidly unified String Quartet #14 Op. 131 into seven separate sections with a big fat pause between each? Maybe this already has been done. I'm glad I haven't heard it!

In a different medium, Asian water colorists for centuries have recognized the value of space and visual silence in their art. Negative space helps us look at an image in a specific, controlled way, and creates a sense of scope. It also gives the work of art a chance to breathe. Space and silence are elements of meditation necessary for not only our restless minds, but also for the contemplation, understanding, and sense of union that we attain in great art.

Musically, Beethoven is famous for incorporating rests in his music, often with fermatas, that can be downright uncomfortable. Or heavenly. Is it time to recognize the space between movements as an essential element of a musical work? Or is it too human to matter?