It's that time of year again; it's time for a new Beethoven Piano Sonata cycle!
Posted by: Todd A on 20 January 2004
Well, it’s been one whole year since I bought a complete Beethoven piano sonata cycle, so I thought it obvious I should buy a new one. Kovacevich? Well, no. Not yet anyway. That’ll come in due time. No, I decided to take the cheap route and buy Jean-Bernard Pommier’s cycle on Erato from Berkshire for a whopping $30. This way, if the set stunk, I could recoup my money at a resale shop. The set will not be heading to a resale shop.
Now Jean-Bernard Pommier is a pianist new to me. I’ve seen his name only once or twice, but what the hell. A major label let him record the whole set. He must be decent, at least. What is it about French pianists? I’ve found that I rather like a number of them. Cortot, Casadesus, Barbizet, Francois: all are exceptional. They all have a nice clean, clear and usually elegant delivery, and if Francois and Cortot, in particular, can run roughshod over the score at times, they make up for it in other ways. Overall, Pommier is more akin to Casadesus and Barbizet than Cortot and Francois, though he is his own man.
Anyway, like a giddy child voraciously tearing open a box with a new toy, I ripped into the box set when it arrived and promptly fired up Sonata Number 1. Uh oh. It’s not very good. It’s slow, thick, and mannered. Pommier seems to think that Beethoven didn’t make the piece weighty enough, with enough dramatic gestures. Surely some mannered pauses and exaggerated chords can fix that, right? “Okay, it’s just one sonata,” I thought. But the second sonata actually fares worse. Damn. I momentarily thought he might be technically deficient, but then I realized that it was all just interpretive nuance, as some of the later sonatas very clearly demonstrate. Well, I might as well try the third, I thought. Ah much better. The first two movements are much more to my liking. But then came the disastrous third movement. What happened? I wondered. At least the finale is good. I decided to give it a rest for the day and start up fresh the next day.
Whew! Op 7 is wonderful. In fact, it is one of the best I have heard. It just glides along beautifully in a pastoral sort of way from open to close. Oh sure, some have been better, but not much better. On to Op 10! Even better! Superb! In fact, his Op 10 are relatively better than the Op 7. Rather than take the fast approach, he takes an even, buoyant approach. Each piece is better than the one before. Then Op 13. Okay, I’ll say it: Pommier is not the most romantically inclined pianist out there. That’s okay. He still manages to make this piece sound driven and dramatic enough. As luck (and the UPS man) would have it, I had on hand for immediate comparison Daniel Barenboim’s most recent recording (from 1998) from Teldec. Barenboim is even more dramatic and idiosyncratic, but ultimately he is less successful. On to the Op 14. Very good, but they are a bit slow a thick compared to my beloved Gieseking (either EMI or Tahra). Walt just dashes these little ditties off, and the Frenchman can’t compare. Well, that’s it for Volume 1. A weak beginning followed by an exceptionally strong middle and ending on a solid if not great note.
Volume 2 opens with what surely must be one of the greatest recordings ever of the Op 22. Pommier plays the dynamic and tempo contrasts to the hilt, and pulls it off wonderfully. His technique is revealed: his fingers are sure and precise, his range of color broad, his dynamic range wide (very wide). Op 26 follows and is scarcely less impressive. Then comes a phenomenal first Sonata quasi una fantasia. Truth be told, I’ve always preferred the less recorded and appreciated first of the opus 27 works. And Pommier makes the piece fantastic. Sure, Annie Fischer is better, as is Kempff, but Pommier’s performance can withstand comparison to anyone. His Moonlight is also excellent, though more pianists have focused more energy here and have produced better recordings. The Pastoral sonata has also long been one of my favorites, and here Pommier again stands with the best. The melodic opening and closing movement are especially captivating.
Then comes a critical point for me: the Op 31 sonatas are among LvB’s very best and for a cycle to pass muster, the pianist must do these well. Claude Frank’s set from last year could boast one of the best Op 31 sets I’ve heard. So can this. Pommier is fleet of finger and dynamically exciting where he needs to be, though he does lack Frank’s seriousness. That matters little, all are outstanding. The second volume rounds out with the two little Op 49 sonatas played just so. The second volume is astounding. If one wishes to sample any part of his set, this three disc set is the place to start.
Volume 3 opens with the Waldstein. This one is hard to pull off, but Pommier comes roaring out with one of the most fleet-fingered accounts of the opening movement I’ve heard. It’s truly exhilarating, but it does not last. The second and third movements are very good, and the opening of the finale is quite effective, but the whole thing misses the promise of the opening. The Op 54 has a certain slower, lighter, almost Kempffian quality to it, but Pommier does not rise to the level of the old master. It’s still a good performance. I started the Appasionata as I always do: to see how poor his performance is compared to Annie Fischer’s. It’s not as poor as most. He is able to sustain a level of intensity and drama that is almost (relatively) satisfying, the few quirks in the concluding movement aside. But he falls well short of Ms. Fischer. Don’t get me wrong, I’m praising his recording compared to all others but one. Perfunctory performances of the Op 78 and 79 follow before what is one of the best Les Adieux’s I’ve yet heard. The pacing of the opening chords and entire first movement was near-perfect, the solemnity of the second movement spot-on, and the brilliant opening of the finale combine to make a wonderful performance; I was sitting upright and at full attention the whole time. Riveting stuff. A good if not exceptional Op 90 follows. So, then, another successful “volume” down with some notable recordings.
The final two-disc volume of the late sonatas had the bad fortune to be heard only about two weeks after I relistened to Maurizio Pollini’s late 70s traversal of the same repertoire. Suffice it to say Pommier is no Pollini. Anyway, on to Op 101. This has never quite been one of my favorites, but Pommier acquits himself nicely. Aided by a hugely dynamic recording (perhaps too much so), this piece, much like Op 22, is played for its dynamic contrasts and shifts in tempi. It is really quite effective. So far, so good. But then came a rude surprise: an especially poor Hammerklavier. Perhaps it was destined to suffer, coming so soon after the Pollini, but from the very opening it was clear there was a problem. Could he have played the opening more slowly? I could have sworn that the description was allegro and not andante. The Scherzo fares little better. The great Adagio comes off slow and sleepy, and Pommier seems so intent on pointing of the contrapuntal elements of the finale that any semblance of music is lost. Yes, Jean, it’s a fugue – now make it musical! This one should have been rethought and rerecorded. The last three sonatas are something of a mixed bag. Both the 109 and 110 come off reasonably well, but their faults – too slow tempi, and not enough depth – ultimately doom them to infrequent listens. But then Pommier redeems himself in the 111. The opening movement has a nice, dark tone to it in places, and the second movement is appropriately ethereal, with each successive variation revealing the, well, I guess spiritual core of this work, if you will. One is reminded of how great this work is, as should always be the case. So his late sonatas are uneven, and certainly do not erase memories of or even withstand comparison to Schnabel, Serkin, Kempff, Pollini or Annie Fischer, but there are some highlights.
A few quick words on sound: this is the best sounding complete cycle I own, though the sound is uneven. All of the pieces were recorded in an old French abbey where Pommier leads a summer festival, and the first volume, in particular, demonstrates just how beautiful the abbey sounds. There is a perfect blend of detail and ambience. Each successive volume sounds a little bit closer, and a little bit harsher until, at times, one can clearly hear too much metal in the notes. The microphones could have been placed a little further back. That would have eliminated the excessive dynamic range problem, too.
So, I rate the set a success, if an uneven one. Some of the works will probably not be played to many times, but the best works – that incredible stretch from Op 22 through Op 31/3, especially – will receive repeated listens. A nice addition to my collection and a bargain at the Berkshire price.
"The universe is change, life is opinion." Marcus Aurelius, Meditations
Now Jean-Bernard Pommier is a pianist new to me. I’ve seen his name only once or twice, but what the hell. A major label let him record the whole set. He must be decent, at least. What is it about French pianists? I’ve found that I rather like a number of them. Cortot, Casadesus, Barbizet, Francois: all are exceptional. They all have a nice clean, clear and usually elegant delivery, and if Francois and Cortot, in particular, can run roughshod over the score at times, they make up for it in other ways. Overall, Pommier is more akin to Casadesus and Barbizet than Cortot and Francois, though he is his own man.
Anyway, like a giddy child voraciously tearing open a box with a new toy, I ripped into the box set when it arrived and promptly fired up Sonata Number 1. Uh oh. It’s not very good. It’s slow, thick, and mannered. Pommier seems to think that Beethoven didn’t make the piece weighty enough, with enough dramatic gestures. Surely some mannered pauses and exaggerated chords can fix that, right? “Okay, it’s just one sonata,” I thought. But the second sonata actually fares worse. Damn. I momentarily thought he might be technically deficient, but then I realized that it was all just interpretive nuance, as some of the later sonatas very clearly demonstrate. Well, I might as well try the third, I thought. Ah much better. The first two movements are much more to my liking. But then came the disastrous third movement. What happened? I wondered. At least the finale is good. I decided to give it a rest for the day and start up fresh the next day.
Whew! Op 7 is wonderful. In fact, it is one of the best I have heard. It just glides along beautifully in a pastoral sort of way from open to close. Oh sure, some have been better, but not much better. On to Op 10! Even better! Superb! In fact, his Op 10 are relatively better than the Op 7. Rather than take the fast approach, he takes an even, buoyant approach. Each piece is better than the one before. Then Op 13. Okay, I’ll say it: Pommier is not the most romantically inclined pianist out there. That’s okay. He still manages to make this piece sound driven and dramatic enough. As luck (and the UPS man) would have it, I had on hand for immediate comparison Daniel Barenboim’s most recent recording (from 1998) from Teldec. Barenboim is even more dramatic and idiosyncratic, but ultimately he is less successful. On to the Op 14. Very good, but they are a bit slow a thick compared to my beloved Gieseking (either EMI or Tahra). Walt just dashes these little ditties off, and the Frenchman can’t compare. Well, that’s it for Volume 1. A weak beginning followed by an exceptionally strong middle and ending on a solid if not great note.
Volume 2 opens with what surely must be one of the greatest recordings ever of the Op 22. Pommier plays the dynamic and tempo contrasts to the hilt, and pulls it off wonderfully. His technique is revealed: his fingers are sure and precise, his range of color broad, his dynamic range wide (very wide). Op 26 follows and is scarcely less impressive. Then comes a phenomenal first Sonata quasi una fantasia. Truth be told, I’ve always preferred the less recorded and appreciated first of the opus 27 works. And Pommier makes the piece fantastic. Sure, Annie Fischer is better, as is Kempff, but Pommier’s performance can withstand comparison to anyone. His Moonlight is also excellent, though more pianists have focused more energy here and have produced better recordings. The Pastoral sonata has also long been one of my favorites, and here Pommier again stands with the best. The melodic opening and closing movement are especially captivating.
Then comes a critical point for me: the Op 31 sonatas are among LvB’s very best and for a cycle to pass muster, the pianist must do these well. Claude Frank’s set from last year could boast one of the best Op 31 sets I’ve heard. So can this. Pommier is fleet of finger and dynamically exciting where he needs to be, though he does lack Frank’s seriousness. That matters little, all are outstanding. The second volume rounds out with the two little Op 49 sonatas played just so. The second volume is astounding. If one wishes to sample any part of his set, this three disc set is the place to start.
Volume 3 opens with the Waldstein. This one is hard to pull off, but Pommier comes roaring out with one of the most fleet-fingered accounts of the opening movement I’ve heard. It’s truly exhilarating, but it does not last. The second and third movements are very good, and the opening of the finale is quite effective, but the whole thing misses the promise of the opening. The Op 54 has a certain slower, lighter, almost Kempffian quality to it, but Pommier does not rise to the level of the old master. It’s still a good performance. I started the Appasionata as I always do: to see how poor his performance is compared to Annie Fischer’s. It’s not as poor as most. He is able to sustain a level of intensity and drama that is almost (relatively) satisfying, the few quirks in the concluding movement aside. But he falls well short of Ms. Fischer. Don’t get me wrong, I’m praising his recording compared to all others but one. Perfunctory performances of the Op 78 and 79 follow before what is one of the best Les Adieux’s I’ve yet heard. The pacing of the opening chords and entire first movement was near-perfect, the solemnity of the second movement spot-on, and the brilliant opening of the finale combine to make a wonderful performance; I was sitting upright and at full attention the whole time. Riveting stuff. A good if not exceptional Op 90 follows. So, then, another successful “volume” down with some notable recordings.
The final two-disc volume of the late sonatas had the bad fortune to be heard only about two weeks after I relistened to Maurizio Pollini’s late 70s traversal of the same repertoire. Suffice it to say Pommier is no Pollini. Anyway, on to Op 101. This has never quite been one of my favorites, but Pommier acquits himself nicely. Aided by a hugely dynamic recording (perhaps too much so), this piece, much like Op 22, is played for its dynamic contrasts and shifts in tempi. It is really quite effective. So far, so good. But then came a rude surprise: an especially poor Hammerklavier. Perhaps it was destined to suffer, coming so soon after the Pollini, but from the very opening it was clear there was a problem. Could he have played the opening more slowly? I could have sworn that the description was allegro and not andante. The Scherzo fares little better. The great Adagio comes off slow and sleepy, and Pommier seems so intent on pointing of the contrapuntal elements of the finale that any semblance of music is lost. Yes, Jean, it’s a fugue – now make it musical! This one should have been rethought and rerecorded. The last three sonatas are something of a mixed bag. Both the 109 and 110 come off reasonably well, but their faults – too slow tempi, and not enough depth – ultimately doom them to infrequent listens. But then Pommier redeems himself in the 111. The opening movement has a nice, dark tone to it in places, and the second movement is appropriately ethereal, with each successive variation revealing the, well, I guess spiritual core of this work, if you will. One is reminded of how great this work is, as should always be the case. So his late sonatas are uneven, and certainly do not erase memories of or even withstand comparison to Schnabel, Serkin, Kempff, Pollini or Annie Fischer, but there are some highlights.
A few quick words on sound: this is the best sounding complete cycle I own, though the sound is uneven. All of the pieces were recorded in an old French abbey where Pommier leads a summer festival, and the first volume, in particular, demonstrates just how beautiful the abbey sounds. There is a perfect blend of detail and ambience. Each successive volume sounds a little bit closer, and a little bit harsher until, at times, one can clearly hear too much metal in the notes. The microphones could have been placed a little further back. That would have eliminated the excessive dynamic range problem, too.
So, I rate the set a success, if an uneven one. Some of the works will probably not be played to many times, but the best works – that incredible stretch from Op 22 through Op 31/3, especially – will receive repeated listens. A nice addition to my collection and a bargain at the Berkshire price.
"The universe is change, life is opinion." Marcus Aurelius, Meditations