Carnegie Hall, New York; February 20, 2008
Pianist Alfred Brendel’s first solo recital at Carnegie Hall was in January, 1973. Unless he changes his mind, his last took place Wednesday night before an appreciative audience whose resounding applause at its end was as much for his 35 years of Carnegie performances as for the evening’s works. It was a typical Brendel concert – Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven and Schubert, played with the brio of a younger man. The program booklet listed each of Brendel’s previous appearances at the hall, their dates and programs, and those composers, especially the latter two, dominate. Only Bach, Schumann and Liszt have been allowed into the charmed circle, though less often. This consistency is partly why Brendel is thought of as the keeper of the flame, the steward of a long-gone tradition whose thoughtful performances include wit as well as wisdom, and whose tone, once on the dry and lean side now has become warmer and more colorful, perhaps flattered by the hall’s splendid acoustics.
Haydn’s F Minor Variations led off the program. Brendel stated its opening theme with disarming simplicity, played the work with virtuoso panache, and lent weight to its emotional complexity. He similarly brought out the depth behind the elegant exterior of Mozart’s F Major Sonata, K.533/494, the composer’s marriage of two freshly written movements with an expanded version of an earlier Rondo. Brendel perfectly captured the improvisatory nature of the opening as well as conveying the tension at the core of the Andante. Beethoven’s E-flat Major Sonata No. 13, Opus 27, No.1 closed the first half of the concert, his performance full of spontaneity, the right hand brightening textures, the near-violent accents and wide dynamic range underlining the seriousness of Beethoven’s “fantasia.” After intermission Brendel turned to Schubert’s last Sonata, the B-flat Major, D. 960, a pinnacle of the piano literature and one Brendel has played well and often. On Wednesday the sublime opening was gently sung and the bright trills so important in the first movement’s argument added depth and mystery to the work’s intensity. The Andante sostenuto movement never slipped into stasis; the Scherzo played with puckish humor, the final Allegro capped by a brilliant coda. Once in a while throughout the evening one was conscious of a smudged run here, a missed note there, or a harsh, clangy climax, all easily ignored in the context of generally brilliant and revelatory playing.
The encores – by Bach, Liszt, and Schubert – were poetic gems, played with Romantic feeling and intense concentration. Brendel’s Carnegie concerts have always had an aura of a religious event, the faithful coming to worship at the altar of the Viennese classics and their High Priest and keeper of the Holy Grail of music. It’s a stereotype that hasn’t accounted for the sheer élan of Brendel’s playing, the puckish humor that humanizes the repertory, or the depth and humanity of both the works he plays and the pianism with which he brings them to life. The enthusiasm and appreciation of Wednesday night’s audience amounted to a cumulative “thank you” to an artist who has won their allegiance over a long and successful career.
Dan Davis
