As with his remakes of Beethoven’s last three sonatas, Anton Kuerti’s 2003 remakes of the composer’s Op. 101 and 106 significantly differ from those in his 1974-75 complete Beethoven cycle. The pianist’s earlier account of the A major Op. 101 was raspy in tone, zealously detailed, tight-fisted, and static. By contrast, Kuerti now treats the lyrical first and third movements with considerable (and appropriate) freedom and tenderness. The march’s compulsive dotted rhythms remain rigorous and controlled, albeit with a greater sense of overall line and continuity. Some listeners may feel Kuerti’s leisurely tempo and flexible gait in the Fugue too casual and sedate, yet his conception convincingly underlines the bucolic aspects of the composer’s melodic invention.
As for the mighty Hammerklavier sonata, Kuerti has gained in surface fluidity and tonal ripeness, yet his rhythm has relaxed to the point where he occasionally rushes the beat or shortchanges rests in the first two movements. But Kuerti imbues crucial transitional passages with more color, dynamic contrast, and meaning, such as the climbing sequences leading into the first-movement recapitulation and his vehement response to the Scherzo’s Presto (listen to how he whacks those Prestissimo scales!). Kuerti’s expansive slow movement doesn’t push the emotional envelope in the manner of Schnabel or Arrau, but the understatement is well sustained.
Given the excitement Kuerti generates in the fourth-movement introduction’s vehement interruptions, and how he positively lets rip in the accelerando, you might expect a swift, jazzy fugue à la Charles Rosen or Peter Serkin. But no, Kuerti holds back tempo, power, and ultimately the defiant, driving momentum that this music needs and gets from other pianists who also take their time over the fugue–like Rudolf Serkin, Wilhelm Kempff, and Glenn Gould. It is mainly for Kuerti’s way with Op. 101 that this release commands attention.
