Stephen Kovacevich Plays Beethoven

Posted by: Todd A on 19 June 2005

Why not? Yes, I’ve been binging on Beethoven, adding new CDs of his music at an almost alarming rate. But the local CD hut had a sale on EMI and, well, I just couldn’t pass it up. I’m not a newcomer to Mr Kovacevich’s EMI Beethoven: I’ve had the Op 10 and 28 and Op 31 discs for a number of years, and some fine things are to be heard in those two discs. The Op 31 sonatas seem more in tune with this pianist’s style, but even the Op 10 sound nice, except for a somewhat unfortunate opening to the first sonata. He even manages to pull off a good Pastorale. Surely his complete cycle warrants a listen. So I endeavored to do just that.

Relentless. That’s the best way to describe the opening of the first sonata. Kovacevich opens (too) fast and (too) hard and plays the entire first movement that way, with little (or nothing, really) in the way of color, variety, or fun. This isn’t even serious playing; this is borderline fierce, angry playing. No one opens as harshly as does this Angelino. The second movement offers more of the same, and it’s not until the third movement that Kovacevich arrives at something more akin to how almost all others play early Beethoven. The finale is fierce but not as strong – or strongly characterized – as some others. The piano tone fortunately never sounds ugly, and Kovacevich never merely bangs away at the keyboard, but he comes uncomfortably close a few times. Kovacevich manages to make both Annie Fischer and Friedrich Gulda sound downright light-hearted and jolly. I must say, this is something of a disappointment.

The second sonata fares a bit better. While hardly relaxed or jovial, Mr Bishop eases up a bit, to the benefit of the piece to be sure. Come the scherzo, one at last has something with nuance and taste, even if one gets the sense that Kovacevich was not only not smiling when he recorded it, but that he had a scowl. The finale comes off well, with everything appropriately restrained (relative to his earlier manhandling of the music), a few rather pronounced lower register chords notwithstanding.

The third sonata fares best of all. It’s even lighter in tone than its predecessors, though it’s still not light. The work comes across more amiably, with the slow movement more nuanced and the concluding movement actually informed by a bit of charm. But this doesn’t salvage the opening trio of sonatas. As if to utterly dispel any notion of musicians becoming more relaxed or contemplative with age, Mr Kovacevich comes across as basically too aggressive in these early works – and they were recorded in 2003. While I didn’t buy the set believing that I’d hear a new age take, I was a bit taken aback by the fierceness of these works.

That continued with the Op 7. Overbearing is the word that comes to mind. It’s not as relentless as the cycle opener, but it doesn’t feel quite right. While different approaches can certainly be taken – say, a more leisurely, pastoral approach (Kempff), a poetic approach (O’Conor), or an heroic approach (Gulda) – Kovacevich opts for an almost angry approach. He never lets up; passage after angry passage pass with withering effect. He lightens up after the opening movement, but the mood is already a bit spoiled, at least for me. I can handle an intense reading, but I prefer one informed by a different set of priorities.

Perhaps long familiarity with the Op 10 sonatas makes me more accepting of this other early trio, but I think they are more successful than the preceding four works. Kovacevich uses a more flexible approach; he’s not as aggressive; he’s not as uncompromising. One can detect some tenderness – or at least something approximating it – in the slow movements of all the works. One can detect a bit more charm and wit in the concluding movement of the second sonata, though, alas, the repeat is omitted. One can hear foreshadowing of greater things all through the last of the three sonatas. The sort of nonchalant opening to the final movement proves a real treat. And one can hear a more ingratiating tone. Subtle dynamic gradations, appealing piano playing and stylish, subtle pedaling all add to the allure. Yes, this trio of sonatas is altogether more successful.

Kovacevich’s approach works much better in the Pathetique. Here’s a work I thought he should succeed in, his serious, aggressive approach adding to the intensity of the piece. While it does that, the whole thing is not quite as aggressive as I thought it would be. Oh, sure, he pounds out the opening chord strongly, and he builds tension up, but when he proceeds into the faster portions of the work, it’s not with unrestrained fire. That’s good. There’s still some heat, and if ultimately he doesn’t offer the last word in passion and swiftness, his blend of elements works wonderfully. The slow movement sounds exceptional, Kovacevich drawing some fine sounds from the keyboard while avoiding any hint of bang, and the closing movement satisfies. Again, I thought he would tear up the keyboard during the runs, but he holds back just a bit, to the benefit of the piece. All told, this is the best recording up to this point in the cycle, and is one of the better recordings of the Op 13 made in the past couple decades.

I hesitantly approached the Op 14 sonatas. These works wilt under the pressure of intense playing. Fortunately, Mr Kovacevich knows just where to stop. His playing in the first sonata is lighter and cheerier than I expected, though it hardly comes across as sunny. Banging and harshness are held in abeyance, and if perhaps pianistic winks and nods go missing, Kovacevich keeps nice, taut tempi throughout, and imbues the work with a sort of serious energy that actually makes the work attractive. He can’t help adding the occasional hard accent – brief, thundering low register chords ring out from time to time to remind the listener that this is serious business. The second sonata is actually more successful. Kovacevich plays, yes, lyrically in the opening movement. Perhaps he lacks that last bit of grace and suppleness that some others bring, but his fleet, tasteful fingerwork and forward momentum really shine. The second movement is lightly punchy and fun to listen to, with a nicely done heavy chord to end it. The closing movement feels just right in the context of this recording. Not too light, not too heavy, Kovacevich blends everything together in just the right mix. I was pleasantly surprised.

Could Mr Kovacevich keep his streak alive with Op 22? Yes! This is another work that can wilt a bit under intense ivory-tickling, and the pianist seems to understand that. The opening movement is taken at a nice clip, and while a bit of steel can be heard here and there, it is not too brutal. It’s not ideally lyrical, though. In the Adagio, the piano tone and pace of playing satisfy immensely, and both the Menuetto and concluding Rondo keep an appealing sound. Again, some steel can be heard from time to time, and perhaps the playing doesn’t possess that vivacity that animates the best accounts of the piece, but it succeeds. After completing a third of the box, it seems somewhat safe to conclude that Mr Kovacevich hasn’t fully come to terms with the earliest sonatas yet – or at least I haven’t come to terms with his hard playing of them – but as things progress, his always (at least) vigorous, at times hard playing offers a serious, somewhat uncompromising Ludwig van. I can’t say that the recordings offer ideal takes of the works – but then, whose do?

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Posted on: 20 June 2005 by graham55
Todd

I suggest that, if you don't have them already, you get Kovacevich's Philips recordings of Beethoven from the 1970s, released last year as a 6 CD set. All five concertos with Colin Davis, his unsurpassed Diabelli Variations, plus some of the better known sonatas, including the last three. Astonishing value.

G
Posted on: 20 June 2005 by Todd A
Starting back up with the Op 26 sonata finds the cycle on strong footing. Kovacevich’s playing in the first two movements is assured, dynamic, alert, and energetic, and he manages to avoid much in the way of steel. His tone sounds more appealing, and everything jells nicely. The funeral march is somber and serious, though not especially funereal, and the concluding movement is filled with more of the same vigor of the first two movements. Overall, it’s very well done, if perhaps a bit unmemorable. Compared to Claude Frank or Friedrich Gulda, it sounds excellent yet pedestrian. I’m not knocking it; it’s just not a contender.

Moving on to the first of the two Sonatas quasi una fantasia finds this listener in something of a conundrum. Precious little about this interpretation is fantastic, or even quasi-fantastic. This is an intellectualized approach, with every note, every accent, every shift, pedal use, and everything else well planned. Yet it is immensely enjoyable. The opening movement is somewhat amorphous but never indistinct or dreamy. The second and concluding movements are strikingly muscular and vigorous, with grand flourishes and virtuosic artistry. I wouldn’t really consider these traits particularly “fantastic,” but so what. The short little Adagio is subdued and appropriately lovely and offers a nice respite between the keyboard pyrotechnics. All told, I really dig this one. But it’s more Kovacevich than Beethoven.

The Mondschein similarly doesn’t sound particularly fantastic. Yes, Kovacevich dutifully rides the sustain pedal in the opening movement, but he doesn’t really generate any mystery or hazy melancholy. The second movement is notably more forceful than others offer, thereby creating less of a rest between movements than a build up to the closing movement. And the closing movement is quite something. This is Rock-N-Roll Beethoven, forceful, heavy, and quick, with a rocking rhythm underpinning the whole thing. The whole may be a bit short on nuance, but it’s certainly long on visceral excitement. It’s definitely good, but not great.

Having heard Kovacevich’s Pastorale for a while, I knew precisely what to expect. Here, in many places, the playing is more lyrical and beautiful, if never quite relaxed. The outer movements, in particular, contain a lot of lovely playing. But steel fingers make their presence known. When Kovacevich plays fortissimo, there’s no mistaking it. He pounds on the keyboard, again coming perilously close to simply banging away. For those more accustomed to the ravishing beauty of Kempff, this is banging. Also, charm is in short supply. The Scherzo should surely sound more charming and fun than here. He doesn’t kill the piece – in fact it’s quite good – but this is definitely one for people who like the steel fingered approach.

I’m also familiar with and fond of his Op 31 sonatas. Except for the sound. For whatever reason, the sound is harsher and brighter, with decidedly more steely than normal, and that ends up detracting from the works a bit. Which is something of a shame, because Kovacevich shows greater flexibility and range in these works. The first of the bunch is suitably light in mood, bringing out the humor and mischief in the opening movement. Some unattractive clanging in loud passages required me to back off the volume just when things were getting good. He backs off on the volume in the second movement, offering some attractive soft playing and surprisingly delicate trills. Those trills lack a bit of sparkle when compared to my favorites, but they more than do. The final movement revisits the spirit of the opening and makes for a fine conclusion.

The Tempest sonata gets a fine recording here. Kovacevich revels in the dramatic back and forth of the opening movement, presenting the contrasts in stark terms, and producing some fiery moments. The second movement really backs off and at times he stretches the musical line to its limit, and he presents some of the movement in almost choppy fashion. In some regards, Yukio Yokoyama’s slightly later recording is similar. Kovacevich succeeds in his reading, but there are a few moments where he comes close to botching it. The concluding movement comes off better, but oddly, I found my attention wandering a bit at various times. The intensity seems a bit contrived at times. Minor reservations aside, this is very good.

The final sonata in the trio comes off very well. Again, Kovacevich lets some lighter elements in, with a bit of humor when appropriate, and some finely articulated fingerwork. His penchant for (nearly) banging out some louder passages remains, and that tendency combined with the sub-par (for the mid-90s) sound grates here and there, but that’s only a minor complaint. The final movement is toe-tappin’ good, thus bringing this critical set to a successful conclusion. But. But my overall opinion of this trio has been diminished. It’s still very good, but after hearing what both Yves Nat and, especially, Friedrich Gulda do with these works, Mr Bishop just doesn’t seem as relatively good. Good, very good, hell, even exceptional recordings just don’t satisfy when truly great recordings linger in the memory.

Anyway, the concluding works for tonight were the two Op 49 works. Kovacevich does fantastic here. He doesn’t bang – not even once. He plays quickly, but his tone is actually attractive throughout, and his overall conception of these Beethovenian bon-bons adds a bit of heft to these delightful works. Why couldn’t he apply some of this type of playing to some of the other sonatas before this one? Seriousness and intensity are all fine and dandy, but too often Kovacevich comes across as a man hungry to hear steel. That does no one any favors. If he could have tempered down some of his playing, that would have made the cycle even better up this point.

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Posted on: 21 June 2005 by Todd A
The Waldstein almost sounds as though it’s played by a different pianist. Color, shading, nuance, subtlety, attractive playing at all levels – this is how more of the works should have been played. The piece opens quickly – but not too quickly – and Kovacevich plays with heroic strength and drive in perfect proportions, and he even allows a few slower, quieter moments to sound that way. The second movement is characterized by wonderful quiet playing tinged with a hint of sorrow. The finale opens in restrained fashion, though when called upon to play loud crescendos, our protagonist holds nothing. A few times the rich, weighty lower registers obscure some things happening higher up the range, but the overall effect is of a pianist playing a piece he loves and wants everyone else to love. This is more like what Kovacevich sounded like when I heard him in recital. Even the sound is better – it’s not as bright and steely and oppressive as some of the other recordings. I noticed that this is one of the earliest recordings of the cycle, and used a different engineer than later on. Perhaps those two things will play a qualitative role as many of the upcoming works were recorded relatively early.

The Op 54 sounds like the same pianist as from prior nights, though a slightly reformed one. Banging and steel are nowhere to be heard, as Kovacevich patiently and meticulously plays the opener. He still plays loud and in a clearly assertive manner when needed, but he doesn’t make this piece sound especially heavy. That’s almost always a good thing. The closing movement is clear and contained and just weighty enough and fun to hear. No reaching for the volume control this time. That’s four in a row!

The Appassionata makes it five! Given Kovacevich’s strengths thus far in the set, I figured he’d do exceptionally well here. So it is. Aided by one of the best sounding recordings in the cycle thus far, he simply unloads at times, the massive crescendos enveloping the listener in a wave of passionate pianistic discourse. (I could have done without the moaning accompaniment, though.) The second movement offers a nice respite, looking more inward, and filled with some softer playing. The finale erupts with passionate fury and continues on to the ends pretty much unabated. Anger and steel are nowhere to be heard, or at least they are welcome to the extent they are heard. No, he doesn’t rise to the level of Annie Fischer or Sviatoslav Richter, but he certainly has laid down one of my favorites. (Hmmm? The Op 8, 53, and 57 are all superb recordings in excellent sound. Maybe some far-sighted EMI exec(s) thought to create a sort of best-of compilation-in-waiting. I really need to be less cynical.)

The Op 78 and 79 sonatas are a mixed bag. The Op 78 sonata, though recorded at the same time as the remarkable Op 53, shows those brittle, hard sonic tendencies that I don’t really like, though the overall tone is never aggressive or heavy; the piece is kept appropriately light. Op 79, though, is a treat. The opening movement is raucous and bubbly and humorous, and just plain good fun, and Kovacevich keeps things moving along nicely enough, never pounding and never trying to make more of the piece than is there. To the Andante he imparts greater gravitas than normal. It’s not heavy or dark, mind you, but it’s more moving than normal. The light little concluding movement brings this definitely better than average recording of this sonata to a close. Sound is excellent. All told, a very good night.

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Posted on: 23 June 2005 by Todd A
First a correction: at the end of the last post I meant to refer to the Op 13 sonata, or the Eighth, not Op 8.

To tonight: I started back up with the Les Adieux with mixed feelings. The recent 2002 recording date seems a negative, yet the fact that it’s a late work seemed a positive. The result: a good but bland reading. Yes, bland. Kovacevich plays the entire work well enough, and he avoids harshness and banging, yet he misses the point of the music. Where is the sadness of the opening, the longing of the middle, and the joy of the closing movement? He plays with style, but without much substance. It’s slick but soulless.

The Op 90 is altogether more successful. This was recorded in 1991, and boy does time make a difference. First of all, the sound is more distant and resonant, but it is totally bang- and steel-free. Second, Kovacevich plays beautifully. He makes this lyrical, short work sound lyrical. He doesn’t resort to extreme tempi or dynamics, instead letting the music stand on its own. He’s sensitive and nuanced and all of those things that go missing in many of his later recordings.

If anything, the Op 101 is even better. The opening movement is beautiful and gentle. Gentle! There’s no rushing or playing too loudly or overdoing anything. The second movement is much more forceful as it should be, but Kovacevich opts not to turn the march into an overbearing display of aggressiveness. The wonderful Adagio is again slow and lovely, and the concluding fugue is terrific. Kovacevich plays with excellent control and reasonable clarity, and when called for he really explodes, making even the (relatively) distantly-miked piano sound awesome and gigantic. He was apparently really on in ’91. Once again I’m left wondering how much better the cycle could have been had only more of the recordings been like these last two, or at least informed by a similar set of priorities. I’m not saying he should have made the Op 57 easy listening, but he surely could have been kinder to the opening trio of sonatas and a number of others.


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Posted on: 25 June 2005 by Todd A
Kovacevich finally does it: he just bangs away at the opening of the Hammerklavier. Subtlety, nuance, clear articulation – all are AWOL – and in their place is merciless, amusical pounding. At times his almost frenzied playing imparts the illusion of swiftness, but at 10’22”, swiftness is nowhere to be had. Unfortunately. The second movement manages to sound worse; heavy, oddly accented playing is added to the mix. It’s just awful. Kovacevich redeems himself nicely in the great Adagio, though. He actually doesn’t bang; he actually plays with some feeling, and some of the playing is attractive. He keeps the playing nicely taut and dramatic and the tension never sags. The closing movement is almost as successful. He opens nicely, with restraint and taste, and as the grand fugue unfolds, he is reasonably clear and keeps everything nicely musical. The opening two movements kill the work though. This is always a hard work to pull off, and of the five “new” versions I’ve heard recently, only Friedrich Gulda in his Amadeo recording really pulls it off. (And delivers one of the greatest versions committed to record, to boot.) Kovacevich’s version, well, let’s just say I won’t be listening to it again anytime soon.

The 109 is much more to my taste. Sort of. The conception and delivery are fine. Kovacevich opts for a vigorous, muscular approach in the first two movements, and during a few variations in the closer, and here he does play with both clarity and conviction. Perhaps the playing is less contemplative and musically philosophical than some (or many) muster, but so what? The Andante opening to the finale and the slower variations and sections within faster variations all sound wonderful though. Here is some subtlety, nuance, clear articulation and thoughtful as well as though provoking playing. Alas, the 1994 sound is terrible. While the slower, quieter passages are okay, everything mezzo forte and above sounds brittle, shrill, steely, and ice cold. What were the engineers and producers thinking? I’ll listen again, no doubt, but at lower volume.

More successful yet is the Op 110 sonata. This 1992 recording blends the best of both worlds in this cycle: it’s a late work and an early recording. As with the Op 90 and 101 sonatas, Kovacevich doesn’t play as aggressively and intensely, but rather favors a varied touch and attractive playing. The work opens with both traits on display and the mood of the piece and the playing all remain subdued – or at least subdued for Kovacevich. He definitely plays with enough power when needed – the ending is extremely powerful, for instance – but overall he infuses more personal meaning into the piece. It doesn’t achieve the same transcendental status a few others bring, but it is one of the highlights of the cycle.

The 111 represents a slight step down. Initially, its 2003 recording date gave me pause. The recordings from the 90s seem to be better overall, but the fact that this is late Beethoven works in the pieces favor. The opening movement is strongly characterized and intense. The ominous chords are ominous, strong, and quick, and darkly dramatic. The second movement opens with a well played Arietta, and proceeds on to a nicely humane voyage to, well, to where? The music seems not to be contemplating anything of earthly concern, and Kovacevich plays in a suitably unromantic, unaffected way. He also allows himself to play delicately – yes delicately – as he does about halfway through. He shows that he can play piano and below and make it work. Once again, a number of pianists play in a more transcendental fashion, but at least the cycle ends on a strong note, as it were.

Now it’s conclusion time. As should be pretty clear, this cycle more or less defines the phrase “mixed-bag.” At his best (Op 13, 53, 57, 90, 101, 110), Kovacevich is truly remarkable and compares favorably to anyone, though I can think of recordings I prefer in every case. At his worst (all the Op 2 and Op 7), he’s horrible, his vulgar brutality literally destroying the pieces. On balance, there’s enough good music-making to say that this set might be worth exploring. But not at its current price. Had I known last weekend what I know now, I would not have bought this set. It only makes sense at the bargain box price ($6-$8 per disc). This set is a disappointment, even with the good stuff figured in.

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