Vladimir Ashkenazy Plays Beethoven

Posted by: Todd A on 16 July 2005

How to follow up the bomb that is Anne Øland’s cycle? Up until now I’ve avoided Vladimir Ashkenazy for a couple reasons. First, I was warned away from his Beethoven from a couple acquaintances. While not horrible they assured me, better could be had. Well I have better. I just wanna hear it now. Second, I just didn’t feel a compelling need to hear Ashkenazy’s cycle. But surely it couldn’t hurt.

Imagine my pleasant surprise when I actually enjoyed the first sonata! Granted, anyone was welcome after Øland, but this is actually good. Ashkenazy takes a generally romantic view of the piece, and his tempi are all well judged for his conception. He doesn’t speed through the work, nor does he linger. And there’s a certain, almost laid-back quality. (Keep in mind this is in contrast to the frazzled Øland still stuck in my mind or the kinetic and dazzling Gulda.) This shows up most attractively in the third movement, where he keeps things light and fun. This approach does not prevent the pianist from playing with technical assurance and power when needed. There is no doubt that Ashkenazy can easily play this music, and as such he can do what he wants. Sure, there are a few moments in the slightly slower than I like finale which I felt were less successful than others, but overall he does fine. The second sonata offers more of the same. Ashkenazy is comparatively relaxed and flexible, and injects just the right amount of humor and seriousness where needed. Nothing really jumps out, and nothing strikes one as odd or out of place. The third sonata opens very strongly, Ashkenazy showing his skill. He plays the loud passages with effortless power and dashes off some passages with disarming speed and control. As if to maximally differentiate movements, he opens the Adagio very softly. Alas, the first signs of what may turn out to be a weakness show up. While he plays the movement well, he doesn’t really distinguish himself, and he starts to sound a little on the sleepy side. Things pick up a bit after the slow movement, and hopefully this is an aberration, but the opening trio is not quite an unqualified success. But it’s leagues ahead of what I just endured. Overall, I enjoyed the opening quite a bit. The only thing that I didn’t care for was the sound. It’s a bit more distant than I like, and it’s too dim, without enough upper register sparkle. The third sonata sounds a bit better than the first two.

Ashkenazy delivers a fine Op 7. The opening movement definitely sounds Allegro con brio, with Ashkenazy playing quick and with clear articulation. He never rushes the piece and though I generally prefer a more laid-back style here, his approach convinced me that something more driven can work. The Largo again shows some of the same problems as with the Adagio from 2/3. It almost becomes a bit lumbering at times, and Ashkenazy’s touch is a bit leaden here and there. It’s not quite enough to ruin the piece; it’s just not a highlight. The last two movements are back in top form. Ashkenazy definitely delivers a winner here, even with reservations. It’s so nice to hear a pianist who can play powerfully without banging and quickly without strain. It sounds, well, natural. Sound is better than in the first batch of sonatas, too.

Moving to the Op 10 works finds Ashkenazy again doing rather well. He opens the first sonata strongly and quickly, but not too much so. He plays with excellent control, and he presents the work with a slightly dark hue, the second movement especially. The second sonata suffers a bit from Ashkenazy’s slightly heavier, darker playing. The first movement starts too slowly, though things pick up after a few moments. The second movement again goes a little more slowly than I prefer, but then the finale is lively and buoyant – and powerful – enough to end on a strong note. The final sonata more or less follows the same pattern as the prior sonatas; Ashkenazy plays with spirit and power in the quicker movements and a little slower than I like in the slow movements – his slow movements thus far lack the same kind of musical tension that Fischer or Gulda bring. He’s also somewhat conservative. He hasn’t taken any chances up to this point; his playing is “safe.” There’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s not the path to a great cycle.

The Pathethique continues along the same way as before. Yes, Ashkenazy can play powerfully, and he does so without a hint of undue bang. His digital dexterity is impressive in the runs, and he plays everything with nice coherence and a variable touch. Alas, he also plays in too safe a manner. Where’s the risk, the adventure? Where’s the overt emotion? (I prefer this piece to be more emotionally charged than normal.) The recording is a very good one, but so are many others.

Somewhat surprisingly, I enjoyed both the Op 14 sonatas. The first one surprised me. Here, Ashkenazy is vibrant and robust, playing more quickly than is the norm, and with more heft than many. But he still keeps the tone light enough and revels in some of the charming writing. The second sonata is not quite as successful overall, but is a success nonetheless. Ashkenazy’s tempi are less brisk, but he more or less pulls off the same feat. Ashkenazy manages to turn them into some highlights.

But those misgivings remain in the back of my mind. There is no question that Ashkenazy is a pianist of the first rank. His technique allows him to do whatever he wants, and his musical judgment is sound. There are certainly no big failures or notable deviations into eccentricity. Everything is solid and well played and mostly very well recorded. But it’s all just a bit too safe. I’m hoping for some more fireworks in some upcoming works.

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Posted on: 17 July 2005 by Todd A

Well, I didn’t get fireworks with the Op 22 sonata, but I did get an extremely fine performance in just about every regard. Ashkenazy’s approach and traits fit this work well. He keeps the opening movement taut and buoyant. I was expecting the second movement to be relatively weak, but here Ashkenazy nails the slow movement. Lovely phrasing and an attractive tone combined with perfectly judged tempi render this about the most successful slow movement thus far. The last two movements both show off Ashkenazy’s fine musical judgment and technical excellence. While not the most thrilling version I’ve heard, this is a real high point.

The Op 26 is not. It’s not bad, but like other recordings it’s nothing special. He plays the first two movements with enough power and control and fine things to hear, but come the ever important funeral march – it is the centerpiece, after all – and Ashkenzy’s offend no one approach really doesn’t work. The movement sound neither funereal or march like, and while it lacks an emotional core, it is well played. The final movement reverts to the same style and success of the opening movements.

The Op 27/1, though, is absolutely top-notch. It’s one of the best recordings of this work I’ve ever heard. Ashkenazy successfully marries notable power, precise control, dashing speed (where appropriate, of course), and some good old fun in just about perfect proportion. I must comment on the power of Ashkenazy’s playing. Where other’s either don’t play very strongly or veer into music-crushing banging, Ashkenazy maintains exemplary control and never even comes close to just flailing away. The weighty sound can energize a room, and that’s just darned fun. Ashkenazy proves no slouch in the slower portions of the work. Indeed, there’s no weakness throughout. A remarkable recording.

The Mondschein is almost as good. Ashkenazy does a fine job creating a somewhat solemn and hazy opening movement. The second movement offers an improvement in mood and contrast in tempo. And the finale is strong, fast, powerful and just plain fun to listen to. Interpretively it is, again, very safe, but Ashkenazy knows how to deliver the goods.

Ashkenazy continues his largely safe and comfortable playing with the great Pastorale. While there’s certainly wrong with that, and while interpretive idiosyncrasy can cause problems here, the recording just doesn’t scale the heights. Ashkenazy opens the work with a nice lilting but never dainty or weak sound – indeed, he’s quite brisk and fun. The slow movement doesn’t induce boredom, and the piece ends well. But it’s all so generic. I can think of a half dozen recordings I prefer, and I can still remember more about those recordings even though it’s been months since I’ve heard them.

So it is with the first of the Op 31 sonatas. Again, Ashkenazy plays it safe. The opening movement is chipper, well executed, and enjoyable, but it doesn’t break new ground, nor does it shed new light on the piece. The slow movement is interesting, with Ashkenazy adopting some sprightly, upbeat playing in a few sections, but the long trills sound plain, and the more introspective moments sound blank. The final movement is as inoffensive and plain vanilla as the opening. The Tempest is the best sonata of the lot. Ashkenazy does a superb job highlighting the dynamic contrasts of the opening movement, with massively powerful crescendos and whisper quiet pianissimo playing. He also uses silence expertly. The second and third movements more or less fall in line with what has come before, tailored to the needs of the piece. The last sonata is a mixed bag. In the second and fourth movements Ashkenazy plays with total command and does a reasonable job of bringing out middle Beethoven mischief. The first and third movements both have the by now normal drawbacks. Overall, Ashkenazy is good and solid, but in the critical Op 31 sonatas, the pianist must bring something unique and insightful to really warrant repeated listens. After the monumental Gulda, even good and solid is wanting.

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Posted on: 18 July 2005 by Tam

Todd,

Insightful and interesting a set of reviews as ever. I've only had brief experience with the Ashkenazy set, but I think you've pretty well hit the nail on the head with 'safe'. Technically accomplished and very well recorded to be sure, but no revelations in the interpretations.

regards,

Tam

Posted on: 23 July 2005 by Todd A

Starting back up with the two little Op 49 sonatas finds Ashkenazy in top form – or as close to it as these works allow. It is charming to hear a pianist of such obviously formidable talent playing so daintily and with such a sense of fun. He doesn’t try to make either piece serious or heavy. Indeed, if anything he treats them as charming little trifles offering a rest before the coming storm.

Alas, the first part of the storm is comprised not of powerful musical gales but of some mild trade winds. Ashkenazy starts the Waldstein in surprisingly restrained fashion. While he does ratchet up the tension and virtuosity a bit, he never really plays with either abandon or calculated power. It’s rather limp. The second movement ends up being dull. There’s little emotion, no notable beauty, just a slow, well played movement that segues to a reasonably good conclusion. Here Ashkenazy does play with more power and snap, but it’s too late to make this a contender. Given Ashkenazy’s strengths, I was expecting something more.

Fortunately, Op 54 is better. Ashkenazy adopts a mostly lyrical approach to the first movement, though he still announces his presence with a few powerful outbursts. The second movement is played a bit more vigorously, Ashkenazy savoring the more intricate writing. He never draws undue attention to anything, rather seeming to take pleasure in playing all as cleanly as possible. A few times he plays with just the right amount of oomph (which is needed, otherwise one goes up against the unassailable Kempff in the softer approach), and he pulls it all off nicely.

I came to the Appassionata expecting Ashkenazy to do very well; his awesome power, formidable digital dexterity, and focus all seem to point to success. He succeeds! The opening movement is played fast ‘n’ furious, with a cutting tone that reminds me of Saint Annie’s recording. Intense, bold, passionate: Yes, it has it all. Perhaps not quite to the same degree as Ms Fischer or Richter – her only credible rival – but more than average. The slow movement again displays Ashkenazy’s tendency to take a safe approach and it rather blights the recording. The final movement, though, is back to fire ‘n’ fury, with massive crescendos and dazzling dexterity. Superb!

Ashkenazy plays the Op 78 sonata just right; that is, he plays with some heft and drive, but never too much. The first movement is strongly characterized and meaty, the second movement sheer fun. The Op 79 blasts out of the gate. Ashkenazy plays the whole thing fast, yet he still manages to imbue it with the right amount of humor. The second movement is serious and restrained and elevates the stature of the piece, and the final movement more or less ends it as it opens. Very solid.

Alas, the Les Adieux is not so good. It’s not that Ashkenazy plays poorly – he’s too fine a pianist to do that – it’s just that he doesn’t really bring anything insightful to the piece. There’s little or no emotion, and some devices seem contrived. I sat waiting for it to ignite, but ‘twas not to be. That’s okay, though; he doesn’t have to nail every one. Now that I’m ready for the late sonatas, I can look back and report that Ashkenazy is indeed good in these sonatas, certainly better than I figured he would be, but he’s not great. His largely safe, conservative approach doesn’t bring anything new, and though one can’t fault his technique, I often want more when a given sonata is over. I’m presuming the late sonatas will be similar. That, however, means that he will be relegated to less than exalted status. We shall see.

Click Here For The Late Sonatas

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