Part II: Stephan Möller reveals spirit of Beethoven, and indeed, of life itself in 32 sonata cycle

It was with great pleasure and no little awe that I attended each of the eight recitals in the Freehold, N.J., Downtown Concert Series (DCS) presentation of the 32 Piano Sonatas of Ludwig van Beethoven. The concerts ran from May 16 through 23, 2015, with one evening free, at least for the audience. (On that evening, the pianist, Stephan Möller, performed Beethoven’s monumental Hammerklavier - Sonata #29 in Carnegie Hall.) WWFM the Classical Network is occasionally broadcasting sonata movements from the DCS cycle on radio and at www.wwfm.org .

My first “review” of this series appeared on this blog last week (see below), covering Sonatas #1 through 11. Today’s blog entry reflects on the performance of Sonatas #12 through 32.

We hear about expression in music; but what is being expressed? For many, it is a musician’s idea of the music and frequently the musician’s own self image and ego, tightly packed with a lifetime of conditioning and assumptions.

There is nothing wrong with musicians proactively expressing themselves through their music. Music is one of the greatest avenues for expression of the ego. But rare is the musician who steps back, completely at the service of the composer, and allows the creative genius to shine through. Such a musician is Stephan Möller.

In an off-hand remark during the reception following the concert, the German pianist, now based in Vienna, mentioned that he had not previously played all 32 sonatas within a single week as a continuous cycle. This is truly extraordinary. For there is an irrepressible, interconnected momentum linking his performances, an organic force permeating each individual sonata and its relationship to those that precede and follow it. At the same time, the musician developed an intimate connection with the audience, a phenomenon that emerges in only the finest chamber ensembles and recitals.

Truly, something rare and unique was unfolding on a simple church stage on the edge of a New Jersey farm community: Möller was allowing us to glimpse the mind and soul of Beethoven, as few musicians have revealed it.

Throughout the series, Möller cut a dignified but accessible figure at the piano. There were none of the excessive theatrics some artists employ to mask their own lack of insight. Yes, here was a man who played music with his entire being, from thoughtful expression to abrupt gesture in concluding an agitated section, a portrait of absorption and service to the music, head to toe. Overall, Möller played with deep feeling and a kind of abandon that just borders on frenzy, then is softened with deliberation and poise. Surely, church acoustics and not exactly the world’s best piano were formidable challenges, but frankly, I never once thought about them until later, as an after-thought.

Möller and Mark Hyczko, DCS Artistic Director, provided welcome commentary before and between sets each evening. Sonatas #12 through #32 include some of Beethoven’s most well-known works, those which we think of by name, including the Moonlight, the Hunt, the Waldstein, Appassionata, the Farewell, and the massive Hammerklavier. These 21 sonatas evolve from the emotional conflicts of the composer’s stormy middle period, including his Herculean struggle with the onset of deafness, to a period of dryness, legal disputes, and disinterest, and finally into the sublime revelation of the last sonatas, one might call them Enlightenment sonatas, named not for the political era which had ended, but after the awakening which is the goal of the world’s great spiritual traditions.

As Möller pointed out in his short lecture on the last sonatas, they are life itself, emerging from stillness, existing for a brief while, and then returning to silence. There is nothing to add, he said: they are perfect. These are the closest to Beethoven we ever get, he continued, and while they are playing, “they lift us up to the sky.”

While Möller performed from memory with fire, spirit, and a commanding tone, he was most communicative in Beethoven’s richly eloquent pauses and ritardandi. Many of the listeners filling the pews will take with them forever the final image of the pianist, a tear glistening on his cheek, his head bowed in silence long after the last note in the sonata series faded like the distant echo of a dream.

The Downtown Concert Series of Freehold, N.J., is to be commended for its courage and passion for excellence in bringing this epic event to the eastern United States. Future offerings are listed at the DCS Web site, www.downtownconcertseries.org . The historic St. Peter’s Church is easy to find, and there are many good hotels, inns, and restaurants facilitating travel and comfort--Linda Holt

Photo below, taken at the Freehold series, by Mark Lamhut:

Möller Brings Passion, Power, and Sensitivity to Beethoven Piano Sonatas

I woke up this morning with sections of the first 11 piano sonatas by Beethoven romping in my brain. What an earworm! But hardly surprising. After all, I am close to halfway through the Beethoven Complete 32 Piano Sonata Cycle, with Stephan Möller, a pianist of breathtaking vision, energy, and sensitivity, thanks to the Downtown Concert Series (DCS) in Freehold, N.J.

The highly regarded German pianist, who also conducts, records, teaches, and leads the Vienna International Pianists Association and Academy, has been enthralling large audiences each night in St. Peter’s Episcopal Church, founded in 1702 (quite a bit before Beethoven). At this writing, Professor Möller has completed the first 11—including the driving Pathétique—since Saturday, May 16. The seven-night series (no concert Friday) will end with two complete recitals on Saturday, May 23, featuring what many consider the greatest works composed for the piano, Beethoven’s Late Sonatas.

In brief remarks after an intermission, Möller warmly described the 32 sonatas as unique personalities, each having a distinctive character, moving the development of Western art music far along a trajectory that leaves classicism behind and forges new pathways into the future of music. Under Möller’s touch, each sonata speaks in its own voice. His style may be brisk and dynamic for some tastes, but there is no doubt, he knows exactly how to present these sonatas—works of three or four movements—in a way that newcomers to classical music as well as seasoned scholars can appreciate and enjoy. It is a joy to see and hear a pianist who plays with such relish and abandon. He understands the great shape and forms of these works, and because of this, is free to express and interpret with impunity, with the assurance that form is the servant of art, not its master.

Performing a Beethoven Cycle is the ultimate accomplishment for a great virtuoso, and a challenge of unimaginable proportions. To translate this into the art of drama, imagine an actor playing the lead in each of Shakespeare’s 37 plays in sequence over, say, a month in time. And of course, Shakespeare is in English, not the complex language of musical notation.

I hope to write more about this remarkable event, enthusiastically received by music-lovers from far beyond the Freehold city limits. But now I must prepare to hear the 14th sonata and enjoy some of the greatest music that ever issued from an individual intelligence. Great work DCS and Professor Möller! --Linda Holt

Remaining concerts are 7:30 p.m. May 19, 20, 21, and at 3 p.m. and 7:30 p.m. May 23. Tickets at the door are $15 per concert, with a special rate of $25 for the two Saturday performances. St. Peter's Church is located at 33 Throckmorton St., Freehold, N.J. http://downtownconcertseries.org/#beethoven-the-complete-sonatas

Chamber Orchestra Celebrates 50 Years With Modern Flourishes & Classic LvB

Time flies when you’re playing great music. That new kid on the block, the Chamber Orchestra of Philadelphia, is celebrating its 50th anniversary this year. The season concluded with a celebratory concert on Mother’s Day featuring two lively short works from the modern era and two Beethoven classics.

Although Beethoven composed the Triple Concerto Op. 56 and the Fifth Symphony Op. 67 just a few years apart in the dawn of the 19th century, both works have completely different temperatures. The Triple (for violin, cello, piano, and orchestra) is still redolent with the classical heritage of Mozart and Haydn, the Fifth forging new pathways of musical logic and sustained expressive power.

The program had an unusual shape and flow to it in terms of sound and energy. The explosive opening salvo was Brossé’s own composition, The Philadelphia Overture, dating from 2010, bright with chimes and brass. The work shows influences by Elmer Bernstein and John Williams, but the message is entirely Brossé’s own.

Following in contrast, the Triple unfolded with calm deliberation. Orchestrally, this was a performance muted to let the standout trio take center stage. The three soloists—violinist Soovin Kim, cellist Marie Elisabeth Hecker, and appropriately commanding pianist Ignat Solzhenitsyn—engaged in a true musical conversation, a tête-à-tête among their instruments which never faltered and showcased impeccable technique and deep understanding of this largely underappreciated work.

This attempt to showcase the trio, however, sometimes led to a quietist effect in the orchestra, where upper tones occasionally seemed to evaporate before they reached the ear. The overall effect, however, was a pleasing one, a long (30-minutes-plus), satisfying reverie between the attention-grabbing overture and the piquant Barber Toccata Festiva to follow. While all three soloists were superb, special note must be made of Hecker’s heavenly tone, especially evident at the beginning of the second movement.

The pitch of the program rose again after intermission as Alan Morrison, one of the great American organists and Haas Charitable Trust Chair in Organ Studies at Curtis Institute, joined the orchestra in Barber’s Toccata. What a strange, engaging work this is, complex in its structure and orchestration, alternating between organ and orchestra, gripping the attention of listeners at various levels of sophistication. This is a relentless, driving short work, with no let-up. Brossé and Morrison were certainly enjoying themselves, the tall organist’s fingers and feet flying over keys and pedals, creating a sensibility both modern and gothic. A little loud for me and perhaps for a Chamber orchestra, but Barber’s vision was well served in a rousing exposition.

For the last celebratory work, Brossé conducted Beethoven’s Fifth in all its familiar but still exultant glory. He took the orchestra lickety-split in a high-velocity whirl through the first movement. It was a little fast, but then, speed adds a kind of celebratory zest to a performance, and so it worked well for this occasion, if not for others.

Most of us never weary of this work, as strong a statement of hope and triumph as ever issued from a creative mind. In Beethoven’s case, that mind had no reason to hope at all, as he sank into the dark night of deafness and despair. His ascension out of that despair in the Fifth Symphony is what makes us keeping come back to it time and again. I suppose that inexhaustibility is what makes a classic, not only in symphonic music, but in other forms, like Jazz. Every time I hear a great performance of “Green Dolphin Street” or “I Remember Clifford,” it’s as though I am hearing it for the first time. O magnum mysterium.

Now five years at the helm of the Orchestra, Brossé truly is a wonderful conductor, and Philadelphia is lucky to have him. He provides a broad overview of a work, brings out compelling solo lines, sometimes in ways that surprise (such as the drawn-out oboe solo in the otherwise breath-taking celerity of the first movement). The orchestra is the right size with the ideal dynamic range for this work, though I admit, on occasion, I do love to hear that famous transition from the third to the fourth movement conducted by a latter-day Stokowski with a double-sized orchestra in the Hollywood Bowl!

Before the concert got underway, the Orchestra’s board members offered some affable congratulatory statements and introduced the group’s three conductors over a half century of music making: the founder, Mark Mostovoy, Ignat Solzhenitsyn, and Dirk Brossé. One of the Orchestra’s original musicians still plays in the first violin section: Igor Szwec. The audience cheered, and seldom have musicians and an ensemble deserved such a round of gratitude and praise. --Linda Holt

What, When, Where

The Chamber Orchestra of Philadelphia, 50th Anniversary Concert, Dirk Brossé, conductor. Soovin Kim, violin; Marie Elisabeth Hecker, cello; Ignat Solzhenitsyn, piano; Alan Morrison, organ. Brossé, The Philadelphia Overture; Beethoven, The Triple Concerto in C Major Op. 56; Barber, Toccata Festiva; Beethoven, Symphony No. 5 in C Minor, Op. 67. May 10, 2015, Verizon, the Kimmel Center, Broad and Spruce Streets, Philadelphia. http://www.chamberorchestra.org/ Below: Dirk Brossé conducting the Chamber Orchestra.

Möller to perform complete Beethoven Sonatas in New Jersey May 16-23, 2015

Tickets at a New Jersey venue are still available for the COMPLETE Beethoven piano sonatas featuring the gifted German pianist, Stephan Möller, starting May 16, 2015. If you have any interest in great, passionate music, you won't want to miss this rare and exciting opportunity in a venue easily accessible to music lovers in New Jersey, New York, and Pennsylvania! There are plenty of good hotels in the area (Freehold, N.J., USA) for those who plan to attend the entire cycle May 16 through May 23. https://www.facebook.com/events/874027479305366/

Art before Breakfast...just don't do it in public!

Art Before Breakfast: A Zillion Ways to be More Creative No Matter How Busy You Are by Danny Gregory

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


Cheerful little book, impossible to dislike. However, I have the impression the artist had all these sketches sitting around and didn't know what to do with them, so he put them together in this book, with the title and intent as afterthoughts. I enjoyed listening to his interview on NPR and hope to sketch more as a result.

There is still a stigma, though, of people drawing in public. Our culture, regardless of what our leaders say, is hostile to the arts and views them as a waste of time and money, showing off, even a threat. Adults who take music or art lessons are viewed as self-centered and selfish, although children are still encouraged to take lessons as long as it doesn't interfere with sports and passing exams.

I think a subversive, revolutionary approach to drawing would be more effective.



View all my reviews

Stamitz's Viola Concerto, treasures by Mozart and Beethoven

Although titled “Beethoven and Mozart,” three composers from the Classical Era, who knew each other in a sense, headlined an exciting Philadelphia Orchestra concert April 10, 2015, under the masterful direction of Paul Goodwin.

The Third Man in this trilogy of music masters is Carl Stamitz (1745 to 1801), whose lilting Viola Concerto in D received a rare performance by the Philadelphians, with Choong-Jin Chang, principal violist, playing spectacularly and sfrom the heart.

While in his late 30s, Stamitz, a virtuoso violist celebrated throughout Europe, shared billing with a scruffy 12-year-old piano prodigy during a concert in the Hague at the end of 1783. To further the sting of performing on the same bill as a Wunderkind, the boy was paid four times Stamitz’s fee.

Yet, possibly inspired by Stamitz, the child went on to become a professional violist in two Bonn orchestras before leaving for Vienna at age 21. There, he composed a number of symphonies, including the Fourth featured in Friday’s program. Yes, the child prodigy turned violist turned master composer was none other than Beethoven.

Mozart, on the other hand, may not have met the elder violist, though he shared a few choice words in a letter to his father in 1778 about the Stamitz brothers Carl and Anton: “…(they) are indeed two wretched scribblers, gamblers, swillers and adulterers—not the kind of people for me.” Historians think Mozart was simply having a bad day in Paris when he wrote those words, but it was assuredly a great day in Salzburg when he composed the tuneful Symphony in D major (the “Posthorn”) K. 320.

The Symphony is, in fact, essentially the same work (with fewer movements) as the beloved Serenade Number 9, the “Posthorn,” dating from 1779. Goodwin is the man to conduct this refined but spirited work, hitting exactly the right tone in terms of speed, lightness, control, melodic emphasis, and dynamics. Director of the Carmel Bach Festival and associate conductor with the Academy of Ancient Music, Goodwin brought poise and energy to the podium, an attractive music conjurer, and not surprisingly, his experience with earlier music gives him a profound but appealing insight into classical forms.

The orchestra shed its brass and percussion for the intimate Stamitz Viola Concerto, a work some dismiss as pedantic, but in the hands of Goodwin, the Orchestra, and Chang, a delightful work. How seldom we hear the viola cast as a solo instrument. I’ve often thought the only problem with a viola is that listeners want it to sound like a violin. That was not the case in this concert, where Chang played warmly, from the heart, with deep feeling. A brilliant cadenza, and some noteworthy solo work in the second movement, made this a memorable performance. Very moving, and a cautionary tale for those who expect music from the late 1700s to sound cool and detached.

Intermission separated these two masterworks of classical refinement from Big Bad Beethoven, an overture and a symphony from the man who took music to a new level of power, energy, and insight. Goodwin chose the seldom-performed Overture to the Consecration of the House (the house being a rebuilt theater in Vienna). Beethoven had a knack for weaving military band effects into some of his most noteworthy creations, and this work is no exception, with a choir of four French horns, three trombones, two trumpets, timpani, and strings and woodwinds. Animated, alternating between crouches and leaps, his three-quarter frock coat flapping, Goodwin drew out a bombastic sound just right for a work of public celebration. There is a fugue toward the end which is truly soul-satisfying to hear, Beethoven having mastered fugal writing around this time (1822) as witness the spectacular fugue of the Missa Solemnis, also from this period.

The concert concluded with the Fourth Symphony in B-flat, another of those complex, evolving works that Beethoven was able to spin from the bones of a few rhythmic patterns. The Fourth tends to get lost between the two giants: the Eroica which revolutionized the symphony and the Fifth which every grade school child can identify. Too bad, for it’s a treasure trove of musical ideas, driven by a pulsing energy and sense of urgency that’s rare even for Beethoven. Again, Goodwin is spot-on throughout, capturing every twitch and tingle in a relentless torrent of sound.

This concert was exhilarating and enlightening throughout. Let’s see and hear more of Paul Goodwin in Philadelphia, and come to think of it, more violas, please!

Film "Woman in Gold": How do you solve a problem like Maria?

Cast adrift in a sea of gold, Adele Bloch-Bauer gazes at the viewer with doe-like eyes, her sensuous red lips on the verge of speech, her right hand unnaturally bent at the wrist (you can almost hear it crack). Mosaic golden tissue flutters across the surface, a wedge of green carpet below its only anchor. Created by Gustav Klimt (Austrian, 1862–1918), son of a gold engraver and a leader of the Viennese Secessionist movement, the painting, “Woman in Gold,” continues to mesmerize admirers since its creation in 1907.

To Maria Altmann, however, the 54 x 54-inch canvas was simply a portrait of beloved Aunt Adele, who died at age 44 long before the Nazis ripped it from the wall of the family home. Maria and her husband made a harrowing flight from Vienna not long after, shown in flashbacks in Simon Curtis’s Woman in Gold. The film itself is a glittering mosaic, flashes of the life that Maria, by this time a widow residing in Pasadena, lived until her death in 2006, snatches of the past, memories steeped in Viennese culture, beauty, and family, the devastation wrought by German anti-Semitism, and an unlikely intersection with the path of a young lawyer, E. Randol Schoenberg, who just happened to be the grandson of the composer who developed the 12-tone row. (The actual E. Randol Schoenberg co-wrote the script.)

Complicated, right? Yet much of the film is a delicately choreographed pas de deux between Maria (Helen Mirren) and Randol (Ryan Reynolds) as they alternately pursue and withdraw from a chase for legal documents and justice that takes them to archives and courtrooms over a 10-year period.

Can Maria claim rightful ownership of the Klimt portrait, which after the war was mounted at Vienna’s Belvidere Museum? What are the rights of families whose art treasures were plundered 50 years before? How long and at what expense should those families persist in their quest for restitution, and is there a point when the struggle should be given up? Is “Austria’s Mona Lisa,” as the Klimt has been called, part of the Austrian people’s heritage?
The issue of art restitution is a thorny one. Woman in Gold takes the position that art taken from families should be restored to families. Others argue that great art belongs to humanity, and efforts to wrest it from safekeeping in museums and public collections represent elitism and, at worst, could result in damage or loss during the transportation and restitution process.

Curtis’s film addresses these issues deftly, though not definitively, through his actors, who are impeccable, with standout performances by Mirren and Reynolds, to cameos by Elizabeth McGovern (Curtis’s wife) as a judge and the incomparable Charles Dance, who can play a cold-hearted attorney like no other actor, as Schoenberg’s inflexible employer.

And what more can be said about Dame Helen? Her uncanny ability to channel her characters illuminates Maria, a frail but indomitable survivor, charming, but not someone you’d want to work for. There is a wistful tenderness to her performance, as though she were adept at juggling eggs on the tip of a pen. There are no false moves or inflection in an accent which is subtle and always right, never bordering on parody as with some well-known performers. Similarly, Reynolds merges with the far less complicated character of the naïve young lawyer who increasingly finds himself pulled into a maelstrom of international proportions. The characters evolve throughout the film, slipping into new understandings, new memories, little epiphanies that flicker like fireworks across faces genuinely surprised by a sense of shared purpose. It is this subtle interplay between the lead actors that most captivates the viewer.

There is a cliché frequently voiced about accounts of World War II: “We must never forget.” But we do, no matter how eloquent the statements of Spielberg, Polanski, and others. Films like Woman in Gold remind us that at the center of history are individual people with stories of breathtaking power, courage, and insight, and relationships of delicate complexity. The stories must be told over and over, an unending source of great art and the deepest sort of collective self-awareness. --Linda Holt



Photo courtesy of www.Klimt.com