Victor Rosenbaum’s renditions of Beethoven’s last three sonatas are those of a pianist savoring rather than performing these works. He plays down the improvisational impulse of Op. 109’s introduction by stretching out the ritardandos to their breaking point, and he minimizes the dynamics so that the movement’s lone fortissimo (measure 62) rightly registers as the climax. Although Rosenbaum takes the second movement at less than Beethoven’s Prestissimo marking, he illuminates the linear interplay between both hands and describes the middle section’s quiet mystery. At Rosenbaum’s pace, the third-movement variations cry out for a warmer, more sustained tonal quality than the pianist seems capable of producing, such as in the final chains of trills, or in Variation Four’s melodic elaborations.
In Op. 110 Rosenbaum evokes the emphatic, granite-like climaxes Wilhelm Backhaus produced, but with stronger rhythmic concentration all around. He sculpts the fugue in large, patiently detailed paragraphs that satisfy just as much as more exalted, ecstatically charged renditions (Gould, Schnabel, Gieseking, Kovacevich, and Pratt, among others). Op. 111’s introduction is powerfully projected, but the ensuing Allegro con brio ed appassionato is rhythmically bogged down, in sharp contrast to Pollini’s assured drive. Rosenbaum’s tempo adjustments and rounded-off phrases in the Arietta soften the music’s cumulative trajectory, and he sometimes reads Beethoven’s obsessive syncopations as even note values. However, Rosenbaum’s tone considerably ripens once the trills kick in at measure 106, and the murmuring left-hand 32nd notes (measures 131 and onward) manage to be clear and otherworldly at the same time. Whatever their ups and downs, these performances are borne out of unquestionable forethought and integrity.