Beethoven : Piano Sonata No. 11, Op. 22
Beethoven : Piano Sonata No. 28, Op. 101
Albéniz : Evocación (Iberia, Book I)
Albéniz : Rondeña (Iberia, Book II)
Mussorgsky : Pictures at an Exhibition
Llyr Williams, piano
The Beethoven Sonatas pretty much constitute the backbone of Llyr Williams's present repertory; it's rare he gives a recital without at least one on the programme. Tonight, we had two, from either end of Beethoven's career. No. 11 is counted as an early work, but very clearly looking forward, and in grand style, four expansive movements in an absolutely archetypal sonata structure. By contrast, No. 28 is a much more free architecturally, more imaginative in form and harmonically challenging, with a strong emphasis on contrapuntal play. It's not a great deal shorter than its predecessor, but its nature, like many of Beethoven's late works, makes it seem very compact and intense. Williams brought out all these facets, while suggesting the lineage, from one to the other, fleet-fingered in the more overtly virtuosic No.11, eloquent in No. 28 where, for a second as the opening theme unfolds, you might be forgiven for thinking of Schubert briefly.
Good as Williams's Beethoven is, and as central to his output, it is nevertheless nice to hear him in other repertory too, and for the second half Beethoven's classicism was well and truly abandoned for a world of vivid imagery and heady impressions. Two extracts from the set of pieces Albéniz collectively entitled Iberia opened proceedings, with Williams's singing tone put to excellent use in Albéniz's beguiling melodies. That said, even Williams could not quite overcome what I consider to be Albéniz's primary defect as a composer of piano miniatures - his tendency to let them go on too long. Having learned "Evocación" myself, I remember thinking at the time that there were a dozen points at which he could have drawn the double bar, but didn't, and while the constant addition of a little extra bit has its charms, it's also a touch exasperating.
Finally, Mussorgsky's immense Pictures at an Exhibition, one of the finest pieces of Russian piano literature, and a daunting challenge to the performer by any standards. Half of the key to pulling off this piano suite is in the handling of the Promenade interludes between the "pictures". They're not just there as a breather, they need to reflect the "viewer's" changing moods and reactions, which is why the theme is later built into the "pictures" themselves. It was obvious from the outset that Williams had understood this perfectly, with a real sense of observation in his approach to the Promenades.
He took an expansive view of the gallery as a whole - both "The Gnome" and "Baba Yaga" could have been more demonic, with more ferocity of attack in the leaping chords. On the other hand, it paid off in the melancholy sicilienne of "The Old Castle", and the steady, obstinate pace of "Bydlo" as the ox-drawn cart draws near and then moves away once again into the distance. Of the fast movements, the market-place at Limoges really sprang to life with enormous vitality, and the sudden contrast with the gloom of the "Catacombs" was all the more striking, while the second part of that movement, "Con mortuis in lingua morta", positively shimmered with an unearthly glow. If "Baba Yaga", as mentioned, didn't quite exude the malevolence required, the final movement, with its pealing bells, rang out splendidly, providing a grandiose conclusion.
[Next : 19th September]
No comments:
Post a Comment