Music at Paxton: Beethoven Piano Sonatas Nos 30, 31 and 32
26/07/23
Melvyn Tan, piano
Beethoven’s last three piano sonatas are a formidable challenge for any pianist. Melvyn Tan’s slim figure belies the power he wields over the music, and with long experience of playing keyboards of many periods, he clearly relishes the sounds he can make on the Paxton Steinway.
The first two movements of Piano Sonata No 30 in E, Opus 109, are short and suggest restlessness, the first alternating between vivace and adagio sections, and the galloping prestissimo of the second. Then the tumult ceases. A pause and then the unhurried Gesang (song), one of the composer’s loveliest melodies. Marked andante moto cantabile ed espressivo, the theme is followed by six variations, during which Tan’s control of the singing tone keeps the melody firmly in mind, whether it sits the bottom, middle or top of the harmony. The slow pace of the first ornamented variation and the flowing notes of the second lead into three sections which use different types of counterpoint, with an allegro, more elaborate fugue in the fifth. The final variation is rich with repeated notes which grow in volume and pace until they fall into a silence from which the original song is reprised, just as simply as before, but perhaps weighted with the complexity of the variations we’ve heard.
Tan is an unshowy musician, who chooses not to introduce his work. After a brief pause to adjust the light (and politely check if it’s shining in anyone’s eyes) he begins Piano Sonata No 31 in A flat, Opus 110, which is also in three movements. Again, the first two are short, the first marked moderato, and the second a scherzo which features sudden outbursts of sound and off-beat rhythms. The reflective opening of the third movement seems to pause for breath. There’s an adagio recitativo which meanders into the ‘Klagender Gesang’ (song of lamentation). This beautiful melody is not developed but gives way to the opening of a fugue in three parts on one of the themes from the first movement. The song is repeated more quietly – it’s marked ‘Ermattet’ (exhausted) - and after some very loud chords a few delicate bars begin another fugue, which rapidly seems to rush away from the pianist even as he tethers the notes with his other hand. As we wonder how all this works, the sonata comes to a triumphant end.
Tan is a technically brilliant pianist, and his skills also lie in his ability to lead the audience in and out of the quiet moments in the score, the changes of dynamics, the notes of the fugue under the ornate surface, and the tragic beauty of the ‘Klagender Gesang’.
After the interval, Tan plays Piano Sonata No 32 in C minor, Opus 111, which was completed like the others in 1822, but had its publication delayed while Schlesinger, who’d commissioned the work, tried to ascertain what had happened to the third movement! The sonata’s two movements have since caused much speculation about their contrasts and possible meanings, for example ‘Here and Beyond’ and ‘the real and the mystical world.’ Certainly, Beethoven’s markings seem to indicate a complete contrast between the fast brilliant passionate first movement (Allegro con brio e appassionata) and the very slow, simple and singing second (Arietta: Adagio molto, semplice e cantabile). They are very different, but don’t be fooled by the semplice. This is all highly virtuosic music, taxing in its physical demands.
The first movement provides its own contrast between the stormy first theme, introduced by ominous rumblings in the lower notes, and a more lyrical second theme which is never quite allowed to develop. The tempestuous one becomes a punchy fugue, which grows louder and more complicated, while briefly relenting to let its sunnier opposite have an airing. Eventually and tentatively, the second theme becomes the coda which closes the movement. The other movement, as promised, begins serenely with a simple song. Tan lets us enjoy the quieter music, but his adagio is by no means stately, and this faster pace is reflected in the following variations, in which Beethoven shortens the note length in each successive variation so that the second becomes a chirpy dotted-note swagger. The third, a tour-de force in twelve thirty-two time – I must look out for the score – becomes in Tan’s hands an unbelievably fast, but entirely joyous experience, breathtaking and exhilarating music-making. There are more astonishing moments before the sonata reaches its end. Tan has shown us Beethoven as his best, complicated and difficult but always intensely human. The full house applauds vociferously and at length, and he generously provides an encore, a Chopin Nocturne, in which he reveals a gentler, but equally intricate, soundscape.
Melvyn Tan has had a three-day residency at Paxton House. He played Beethoven’s Cellos Concertos with Guy Johnston on 25th July, and on the morning of the 27th, he conducts a masterclass. Unusually this is for amateur musicians, and three brave men, one young, and the others more mature, play different pieces from ‘Variations for Judith,’ a set of pieces of Grade 5 standard, written by modern composers. All three benefit from Tan’s astute encouragement, while he issues general advice to other aspiring musicians – “Let the music breathe,” “Practise without using the pedal,” “Practise fast passages at a much slower speed” and “Practise quiet passages forte.” He also entertains us with tales of his tuition at Yehudi Menuhin’s music school, where one of his teachers was Nadia Boulanger, “We were terrified of her, but she was always very kind to us, and taught us how to listen.” He tells us that he’s read that scientists measuring brainwaves have shown that pianists have more thoughts per second than any other occupation. After hearing his performance in the Beethoven, I can certainly believe that!
Melvyn Tan’s recording of Beethoven’s last piano sonatas will be available on Signum later this year.
