It’s 2006, the Mozart and Shostakovich anniversary year, and the Beethoven piano sonata business shows no sign of letting up. In addition to recent complete cycles from Stephen Kovacevich, Seymour Lipkin, and Craig Sheppard (plus many others I’ve not had a chance to review), Garrick Ohlsson is well on his way toward the finish line, tailed by editions-in-progress from Kun Woo Paik, Paul Lewis, András Schiff, Gerhard Oppitz, and Ronald Brautigam. Connoisseur Society now enters the Beethoven sonata sweepstakes with David Allen Wehr, whose artistry easily holds its own in the company of distinguished Beethoven pianists past and present.
In many respects, the best of what both Walter Gieseking and Solomon offered in their tragically curtailed 1950s Beethoven cycles for EMI finds a modern counterpart via Wehr’s pure, unforced tone, poised, symmetrical fingerwork, spare use of the sustain pedal, and classical reserve. Wehr rightly feels Beethoven’s Menuetto movements in a brisk one-beat-to-the-bar, and slow movements tend to move faster than usual, though with more lyrical repose than the dry-eyed militancy Kovacevich or Gulda sometimes project. Moreover, Wehr’s fabulous left-hand technique plays a crucial role in vivifying the linear specificity that characterizes Beethoven’s piano writing, especially in these earlier sonatas’ leaner, more exposed textures. He takes particular care to distinguish detached and slurred phrases, articulate note values and rests, and observe the composer’s signature subito dynamics, and does so without missing the forest for the trees, so to speak.
Warming up with a well played but slightly careful Op. 2 No. 1, Wehr launches into Op. 2 No. 2 at full throttle. Like many pianists, Wehr moons over the Rondo theme’s repeated E-naturals, but within the bounds of good taste. In Op. 2 No. 3’s first movement Wehr admirably juxtaposes fire and brio with discreetly elongated, dramatically-timed silences. However, I expected more scintillation and oomph in the finale’s bravura runs and flag-waving trills. Similarly, Wehr’s energy slightly sags in the broken octaves throughout Op. 7’s first movement, but the lyrical finale is flexibly phrased.
Wehr is at the top of his game in the Op. 10 triumvirate. I’m quite impressed with Op. 10 No. 1’s finale, where, like Gould and Gulda, Wehr commands the dexterity to make the controversial Prestissimo marking plausible. All the slow movements benefit from focused and shapely left-hand accompaniments that help keep the lyrical right-hand lines alive and afloat. The two “easy” Op. 49 sonatas receive gracious, unpretentious readings that stand with the best, although Wehr’s headlong conception of No. 2’s first movement might raise a few eyebrows. Thanks to veteran producer E. Alan Silver, the sonics reflect the realism of a small concert venue and faithfully capture Wehr’s beautifully regulated Yamaha grand.
