Dino Ciani Plays Beethoven

After a less than stellar first batch of sonatas, I approached the next batch with lowered expectations, and a sense of what to expect. Ciani definitely displays significant talent – his effortless, at times lyrical playing really can catch one’s ear – but he also displays some serious shortcomings. His interpretive range is limited, and he often resorts to playing in a manner that some may find “exciting” but that lacks any depth whatever. So, with this outlook, it was time to investigate some more music-makin’:

The Pathetique should fare reasonably well I reasoned; if any Elveebee sonata benefits from swift playing, it is surely (or at least usually, to be covered forthwith) this one. Sure enough, Ciani plays it fast. The Grave opens slowly, with short, sharp chords and rubato and dynamic variations aplenty to impart a sense of drama. Then the Allegro molto e con brio bursts into being, with Ciani gliding across the keys with vehement outbursts at all the right times. But that’s it. He plays fast and strong. There’s no emotional depth. There’s really nothing beyond those two traits. The Adagio, well, it actually sounds reasonably attractive, but it, too, is shallow ‘n’ callow. And dull. The concluding Rondo ends up being Ciani’s attempt at a showpiece conclusion; he pushes the music too hard and too fast, and he ends the piece in downright sloppy fashion. His technique certainly isn’t up to what he wants to do, and what he wants to do is rather boring, anyway. Perhaps Ciani’s take was doomed to sound sub-par after listening to Radu Lupu’s take just before it. Lupu’s version, which is about the longest and slowest I know, is orders of magnitude better than Ciani’s, and Lupu displays greater pianistic skill in every regard. Speed may help this sonata, but there’s much more to it. Next.

The first of the Op 14 sonatas sounds a bit better. A little bit. The Allegro opens in a nicely restrained yet singing way, though in a few parts it also sounds strangely stiff. As the brief movement progresses, Ciani starts to meander; his playing sounds effortless but meaningless. What’s it for? The Allegretto is, for some reason, pushed harder than the opening movement, and ends up sounding just a bit too serious for my liking. The ending Rondo is quick and light, with delicious runs and a generally upbeat sound, and sounds good, but taken as a whole, this performance just doesn’t do it for me at all.

Thankfully, the second sonata does do it for me. The Allegro opener displays Ciani’s effortless, lyrical playing to its best effect, and the runs are played with a glorious, shimmering legato. The middle section sounds stronger and faster, but here Ciani doesn’t overdo it at all. The Andante benefits from similar restraint: Ciani plays the movement as a quick, sunny march, and he never just bangs away. Whew! The concluding Scherzo is like the opening movement in most regards, except that Ciani sounds a bit harder in louder passages. The latter part of the movement sounds a bit like a snarky joke. That seems a fine way to end a Scherzo.

The Op 22 sonata sees a dip in quality. The opening Allegro con brio is certainly quick, but it is also oddly clunky at times, and Ciani’s playing doesn’t flow very well. His playing also sounds a bit congested (in stark contrast to Barenboim), and his rubato and other devices seem out of whack. He again tries to generate shallow “excitement,” but that just seems to mask his unfamiliarity with the music. Perhaps he didn’t know the score well enough, who knows. The Adagio ends up sounding like a slow version of the opener. The Menuetto actually works reasonably well, but only in contrast to the two opening movements; it’s certainly nothing special. The Rondo never clicks, and it’s sloppy in parts. To put it briefly, Ciani sounds lost at times and he never sounds compelling. Scratch this one.

The Op 26 sonata suffers two maladies: Most important is Ciani’s lack of anything substantive to say about the piece. But almost as important is the truly hideous sound of the first 3’25” of the opening Andante. The piano sounds like a glass harmonica, and some high-pitched whine is audible for the entire duration. It’s probably the most unpleasant thing I’ve ever heard in a recording, not counting anything performed by Bette Midler. Through the muck one can almost discern music played at a decent pace, but that’s it. As to the variations, they alternate between slow and stodgy and fast and effortless, though it seems Ciani suffers a memory lapse a couple times. The Scherzo is entirely successful, being fast, flowing, effortless, and fun. Yes, fun. The funeral march is at once successful and unsuccessful. It’s successful in that it’s pointed, strong, and quick. It’s unsuccessful in that it’s neither solemn nor funereal, and it’s most certainly not heroic. Curious. The final movement is fast but shallow. Again. Scratch this one, too.

The 27/1 makes it three dogs in a row, but this is just a Poodle rather than the preceding Bull Mastiff and Staffordshire Terrier, respectively. Things get off to a decent start, though. The Andante has that effortless, singing quality that Ciani can bring, and it assumes a somber, almost weeping sound between 1’10” and 1’50” that I really dig. The Allegro is more robust, as it should be, with glorious cascading passages. The return of the initial theme sounds pretty much like it did the first time around. The Allegro molto vivace opens with a definitely attractive hazy, dreamy legato before bursting into stormy playing. However, this just sounds like a forced, shallow attempt to generate maximum contrast. Fortunately the Adagio section sounds good, but the then the concluding Allegro vivace is fast and empty and pushed so hard that it loses clarity. It’s kinda sloppy, too. Immediately afterward, I listened to Andrea Lucchesini’s masterful account, and what a contrast in accomplishment! The younger Italian gets it all right. The Ciani Prize winner best the Prize’s namesake, that’s for sure.

I was beginning to get bummed. So many dogs, so few gems. As if to kick me while I’m down, the box-set offers two recordings of the Mondschein sonata, the first (on disc) from October 25th, that was part of the program, and the second from October 19th, that was performed as an encore. Since this isn’t my favorite work, I didn’t really want to listen to two, but I dutifully did what had to be done. I’m glad I did! Both performances are superb. The opening Adagio is played in a nicely somber and sorrowful way, and Ciani brings to bear all his gifts in perfect proportion. Everything works. The Allegretto opens in a wonderfully lyrical and light, yet totally effective manner, and then it slows perceptibly as the piece progresses. Ciani even refrains from hamming up the dynamic contrasts. The concluding Presto agitato is fast and powerful and vehement. Ciani also creates a nice, dramatic feel to end the work. There’s relatively little to choose from between the two versions, though I’d say the first is tighter and tenser, the second looser. I prefer the former ever so slightly. At last, a reprieve from mediocrity!

The Pastorale extends the reprieve. Ciani opens the Allegro very slowly but then gradually builds up the tempo as well as the strength of his playing – including some Extra-Strength Ciani Forte Chords – but all the while he maintains his effortless, singing style. It’s pretty cool. His adoption of quick speeds successfully lends a sense of urgency to the playing, and if a few moments of showboating inevitably pop up, they are easy enough to forgive. The Andante flows along most gorgeously, with some unique left-hand accenting just helping things along. Some more disjointed playing mars the last minute or so, but everything else is so good as to make it matter not a whit. The Scherzo is generally lively and clear, but a few passages find Ciani stretching his memory just a bit. The concluding Rondo opens gracefully – there’s something lacking in other sonatas – with the lilting theme just flowin’ on by. The crescendos are super-strength, of course, but that’s fine. While this recording of this sublime work is by no means the best or anywhere near the best out there, it’s darned tootin’ all the same.

So, I’m about halfway through, and, in all honesty, I must say I’m less impressed with Mr Ciani than before. Basically, take my prior criticisms and amplify them and that about covers it. But Ciani can deliver the goods on rare occasions. Hopefully the Op 31 will provide three of those occasions.


--

Dear Todd,

I know from past reading that you have some misgivings, but having read so much fine work from your pen on the subject of Beethoven pianism, would you be prepared to contextualise Schnabel's contribution. It was his complete set (the fifth box of LPs containing the Bagatelles, E flat and Diabeli Variations and more) that I grew up with. I have the CD replacement set (of the Sonatas, but careful LP transfers of my old LPs of the assorted set), as some of the LPs were played to extinction! Naturally I cannot be nearly so objective about this set as you will be.

But to do your usual and splendid phorensic examination of each work's reading would give me immense pleasure if it is not a too horrible idea for you. It is interesting to me how much response you have had with the Barenboim review, and that is perhaps not so surprising as at one time he was EMI's chosen pianist being given Klmperer as accompanist in the Concertos and so well promoted by the company. I never enjoyed these nearly as much as some people, which means just nothing. But I remain deeply attached to the Schnabel effort - Warts and all! Maybe not, the Hammerklavier sonata, but otherwise yes, very much so...

I never tangle with you on these threads as I simply think I know too little to really enter an active discussion of detail, but a picture is emerging for me of many ways with the music, which I have never been able to listen to. I think I can see why you hold Annie Fischer in such high regard, even though all I have listened to of her's is Mozart Piano Concertos (with Sawalisch and Boult), which are priceless. I have not heard them for years though, which I regret.

More recently I have become completely absorbed in the different, magical never the less, but more austere world of Bach's keyboard music, which I think more suits my temperament these days! To the point where I am going to get a harpsichord, only a little one, just to learn the music from the inside!

I hope you do not find this post a cheek.

All the best from Fredrik

quote:

Originally posted by Fredrik_Fiske:
would you be prepared to contextualise Schnabel's contribution.

I do plan on going over all my "old" cycles in detail at some point, including Schnabel's. (I have the Dante transfers.) But first thing's first - I must finish Barenboim and Ciani, and I have Brendel's second cycle on the way . . .

Dear Todd,

I anticipate the reading with real pleasure. Thanks from Fredrik

PS: Are the Annie Fischer recordings out at the moment? I am quite strapped, but I still want a great modern (!) recording of them all. I have a number from Solomon, and E Fischer, and find these the perfect foil for a certain frustration with Schnabel on very rare occsaion, but obviously including the Hammerklavier!

quote:

Originally posted by Fredrik_Fiske:
PS: Are the Annie Fischer recordings out at the moment?

Yes, they're available, but Annie's cycle is about the most expensive on the market. (Only Joyce Hatto's is more expensive to build, at least in the States.) If you want a fine modern set, at a more reasonable price, I say give Andrea Lucchesini a try.

Dear Todd,

As it happens, I find the readings of a more or less known artists more instructive than a less or unknown one, so if Annie Fischer is to be had then her readings it will be. I don't have to necessarily agree with every aspect of a performance either to enjoy it or see its greatness. The fascination is to both understand the music and try to understand the approach of an artist. [Sometimes this fails, as with Beethoven's Orchestral music under Toscanini, at least for me]. I could never play the sonatas well if some of it at all[!], so my views are not at issue really. Thanks for the gentle nudge, and I shall well consider Meastro Lucchesini in due time time as well.

Thanks from Fredrik

Given the combination of poor sound and variable and largely disappointing playing, I needed a break from Ciani’s cycle. About a week seemed to do the trick, so I resumed listening to the cycle, though in smaller chunks than before. I started with the crucial Op 31 sonatas with lowered expectations yet retained hope that Ciani would redeem himself. Alas, that was not to be. The problems start with the first of the sonatas. The Allegro vivace is all about speed and, I guess, high-grade virtuosity. Ciani occasionally injects some charm into his playing, but overall it’s overdone, and contains more of Ciani’s stark, wide contrasts and a few slips. The Adagio opens with light and mostly crisp but occasionally blurred trills, though the bass trills near the end are superb. Overall, the movement is taken reasonably briskly, has a decent, near-danceable rhythm, yet sounds flat and boring. The Rondo sounds best being quick and cheery, with nice drive, but it, too, is a bit flat.

The Tempest seems made for Ciani’s style, and it ends up being the most successful of the Op 31 sonatas. The Largo opens very slowly but quickly turns over to high-speed playing. Indeed, with the exception of the brief returns of the slow opening music, this entire movement is about speed and power, with Ciani doing his best to play up the contrasts in the movement. That’s generally a good thing. Here it sounds good, but it’s too forced and shallow. The Adagio, by contrast, benefits from Ciani’s strength’s – effortlessness and a singing quality – and sounds less forced. It never really sounds involving, though. He adds nice touches here and there, but it amounts to little. The closing Allegretto adds some well-judged oomph, but even so it remains uninvolving.

Alas, the critical trio ends on a very disappointing note. The opening Allegro opens in surprisingly sluggish fashion, and Ciani adopts an uncharacteristic soft-grained approach that simply doesn’t work. The movement never takes flight and sounds incredibly boring. The Scherzo, on the other hand, is all about fast and/or furious playing. He plays to the gallery and the piece suffers. The Menuetto is likewise too fast, and Ciani’s usually effortless lyricism sounds strained. The Presto starts off comparatively sluggishly but quickly transitions to more high-speed, “virtuosic” playing. Ciani tries to dash off the music in a (stunted) Gieseking-like manner, but Ciani has nowhere near the panache of the great master and can’t pull it off. The movement just comes off sounding shallow, empty, and utterly meaningless. It’s crap. I can think of few recordings of any work that have such an unpleasant overall feel. So Ciani botches the Op 31 trio.

The first of the Op 49 works offers a much needed reprieve. Ciani plays this one masterfully. The opening Andante is taken at a relaxed tempo and is played graciously and tenderly. I swear it sings! The Rondo is quicker – but not too quick – and has what in a good recording would be clear part playing, and it’s basic pulse is lively and fun. The second of the two sonatinas unfortunately suffers from the too-fast playing that permeates the set. Still, Ciani’s playing is lyrical and reasonably appealing.

The Waldstein opens in a somewhat surprising manner: Ciani does not gallop right from the start. Instead he opens with a well-judged overall tempo and a rich, lyrical sound, insofar as one can hear it. This unexpected treat doesn’t last long because Ciani soon accelerates the pace, playing everything just as fast as he can. The rest of the movement alternates predictably between too-fast and pretty good and includes artificial “spontaneity.” The Adagio is slow and serious but not much else; it’s shallow and callow. Again. The finale opens with a slow, ringing, sad sound that’s quite beautiful. The long trill then leads to more explosive, dazzling (I guess) playing punctuated by thundering power. Throughout the movement, the slower, gentler playing is generally very good, but the faster and more powerful playing stomps all over the music. It’s boring and disappointing.

At this point I started to fear the worst. Dog after dog seemed to point to a disastrous conclusion to the cycle. But then Ciani does something amazing: He actually produces some compelling music as opposed to a virtuosic display. The Op 54 sonata is one of the most successful recordings in the cycle. Hell, it’s superb by any standard. (Other than sonic, that is.) It opens beautifully, with that effortless, lyrical quality that Ciani seems to have in him at all times. Too, the powerful playing, while indeed very strong, is never overwrought. He knows when to stop. He knows when enough is enough. The Allegretto starts off quick and flowing, and it ratchets up tension as the piece progresses without losing its lyrical appeal. Perhaps the coda is played too quickly, but that’s a minor quibble with a superb recording.

Of all LvB’s sonatas, the Appassionata seems best suited to Ciani’s fast ‘n’ furious mode, and so it is. The Allegro assai opens with a brooding, anticipatory darkness then erupts into fast, intense, compelling playing. A few slips mean very little given the energy of the playing. Ciani then knows to back off when playing the slower passages, creating a very attractive and very tense yet lyrical sound. The stormy playing at around 5’ is indeed stormy and driven, if perhaps a bit congested. The Andante finds Ciani playing in what would no doubt be a gorgeous manner in a good recording, infusing what seems to be real emotion. Then comes the concluding Allegro ma non troppo, which Ciani plays positively ferociously. He then backs off but that only creates a sense of subdued anger, as though the protagonist is pacing back and forth, seething in rage, poised to explode. When the inevitable explosion comes, Ciani plays it aggressively, yet in a controlled way. Again, a few slips are of little concern; Ciani gets the musical message (or at least a musical message) right. Outstanding.

The Op 78 and 79 sonatas extends Ciani’s streak to four in a row. The first of the sonatas opens with a radiant Adagio and then moves to a light, lyrical Allegro and then alternates between the two approaches. The concluding Allegro vivace is definitely vivacious and spry. The second sonata opens with a fun Presto alla tedesca unfettered by excessive interpretation or show. The Andante shows off Ciani’s lyrical side to good effect, and the concluding Vivace opens with smooth, lovely, warm legato playing before transitioning to a punchy, effective staccato style used to accent the piece. Very good.

The Les Adieux makes it five. Sort of. The piece opens tenderly, with Ciani’s effortlessness again on display, and as the piece swells and surges, Ciani plays louder without overdoing it. It all comes across as slightly smaller-scaled than normal, perhaps, but it is a fond farewell. The second movement sounds nicely disconsolate and desperate and anguished, and the finale comes off as an extended song of joy, at least for the most part. It is here that Ciani’s tendency to push things unnecessarily reappears and mars what would have otherwise been a superb reading. As it is, it’s pretty good.

Op 90 ends up in a similar situation. Ciani opens the piece with restrained power and then offers up more of his effortless, lyrical playing. Unfortunately, his forte playing is overdone at times, though fortunately it’s neither as bad nor as constant as in some other works. Save for a somewhat intense middle section, the second movement is a radiant stream of music and Ciani really does quite well here. I can’t say that his playing stands out when compared to many others, but it’s still nice.

A good beginning to the late sonatas instilled a sense of hope – maybe Ciani would fully redeem himself. Nope. The 101 opens in promising fashion, with more of that attractive lyricism, and at times Ciani’s playing displays a near-philoshophical / ethereal / dreamy sound that the best players usually bring, but for the most part it’s just shallow surface playing. There’s nothing behind most of the notes. Still, it’s a nice surface. The second movement march is certainly vigorous, with quite fine instantaneous forte outbursts, but it doesn’t take long for the playing to take on an unpleasant unyielding feel. The Adagio ends up sounding like a nice recapitulation of the open in overall effect, and the transition to the final movement is heavenly – a flash of musical brilliance, to be sure – but what follows suffers from the same things that plagued so many previous works. It’s pushed too hard and too fast, and Ciani seems to haphazardly dash off some of the music in a most unappealing way.

That’s still better than the Hammerklavier. Ciani opens in grand style, that’s undeniable, but his playing then becomes breathlessly fast. The piece turns into an athletic rather than a musical one. There’s some super-duper power, and some Wow-Em’ speed, but it’s all show and no substance. The Scherzo is likewise played in He-Man fashion, but for all the flash, it’s extremely boring. The Adagio comes off comparatively well. Ciani’s approach is on the small side (hey Paul Badura-Skoda makes it work, so that’s not a criticism), and he manages to make the music sound intense and angry, but even with that it sags at times. The final movement starts with a slow and unremarkable Largo and then becomes another speed-demon affair. While the recording is no doubt partly to blame, the fugue sounds muddied and muffled. Ciani seems more concerned with dazzling the crowd. Some may like. Not me.

On to the final three. The 109 again displays a mix of Ciani’s strengths and weakness. The Vivace ma non troppo finds Ciani gliding along in a somewhat cloudy manner (it might be the recording) that sounds quite nice. The Adagio section sounds superficially nice but lacks substance. The Prestissimo is, perhaps somewhat strangely, not pushed maximally, but unfortunately, Ciani substitutes ponderous left-hand playing for excess speed. The Andante theme that opens the finale actually sounds wonderful, with Ciani’s singing quality returning. Then the first variation comes, and it, too, is wonderful. The opening of the second variation is even better; even in poor sound it is beautiful. The third variation is quick and gone in a flash and actually quite good. The fourth variation sounds much like the first two but is a bit tenser. The final variations are stronger – the final one positively thundering. The return of the Andante theme is serene poised and quite fine. So, Ciani displays some brilliant playing and some not-so-brilliant playing. That Prestissimo prevents the work from being an unqualified success.

As with the 109, so with the 110. The opening movement is a glorious thing. Ciani revels in the musical simplicity and delivers a radiant, singing, fleet and gloriously light open. The entire movement is more lyrical than normal – and that’s most decidedly a good thing. He smoothly and carefully plays the music, flowing from idea to idea, and he even evokes a standard late-LvB sound. Again, the second movement is pushed too hard for no reason. Yes, the movement contrasts with the opener, and yes it should be fast and strong, but there comes a point where it doesn’t work. Ciani surpasses that point. The Adagio open to the final movement is slow and somber and dark in tone. The first fugue is dark and rich and, in some ways, rather un-fugue like (it’s straighter, if you will), and as with the 106, Ciani doesn’t really play it with the greatest clarity. The return of the opening material brings back the same sound world, but then the chord build-up to the inverted fugue is curiously limp. Here’s one place where “excess” power can sound great, and Ciani doesn’t play with power. The inverted fugue itself is much like its precursor, and the whole thing ends in thundering fashion. A brilliant opening movement aside, this one is weaker than its predecessor.

That leaves the 111. Unfortunately, it’s the weakest of the three. The opening movement starts off promising, though. It’s terse, impatient, and biting. The build-up to the dark, quasi-fugal music sounds somewhat tepid, but when the ominous music arrives, Ciani initially sounds good. All too quickly he falls back to playing too fast, to the point of sounding almost frantic. Power certainly is on display – Ciani’s ability to play near-thrilling fortissimos is not in question. But it all amounts to very little. Despite the surface excitement, there’s little to hang on to. It bores more than enlightens. The second movement opens with a subdued, cool, and singing Arietta which sounds quite fine, but then the variations succumb to the same problems as before. Speed doesn’t always guarantee excitement or insight, as this amply demonstrates. The later portions of the movement sound comparatively better, a surprisingly unsteady long trill notwithstanding. But a few moments of searching music doesn’t compensate for the rest of the sonata.

I cannot rate Ciani’s cycle a success. The playing is far too variable for that. At his worst, Ciani is shallow and consumed with doing little more than playing really fast and really loud. He’s at his worst a lot. But at his best, he is amazing. His effortless playing and his unforced lyricism sound more than compelling. Unfortunately, Ciani is at his best relatively rarely. Relatively few sonatas are successes overall, and Ciani’s best playing often appears only in single movements or brief flashes. This cycle ends up being something of What Could Have Been set. Had Ciani lived longer and matured musically he no doubt could have and would have played at least some of these works in a far more compelling way. How much better he may have become will never be known, of course, and so one is left with this cycle as Ciani’s take on the Bonn master. Throw in the terrible sound, and this set becomes one for only hard-core Beethoven sonata fans or Ciani fans. I’m certainly glad I picked it up for less than $18, because that’s about what it’s worth. Alas, a disappointment.



--