For months, Cleveland area classical music lovers had been looking forward to a cycle of Beethoven’s five piano concertos, plus the Triple concerto – all featuring pianist Igor Levit and under the direction of Music Director Franz Welser-Möst. Speculation was that the cycle was to be recorded for later release.
A few weeks ago, Cleveland Orchestra patrons received
this message from Franz Welser-Möst, who has been undergoing treatment for
cancer: "I am terribly sorry that I can’t be with you for the upcoming
concerts in November. The side effects of the immunotherapy don’t allow me to
travel right now. But, I know you will never-the-less, with or without me,
enjoy the wonderful playing of your Orchestra. I look forward immensely to
return to make great music for you in 2025. I miss you. Thank you!"
We wish Franz a speedy and complete recovery. Cleveland Orchestra Associate Conductor Daniel
Reith stepped up to lead all the programs.
Shortly after Welser-Möst’s announcement, Igor Levit withdrew from the series.
Five pianists stepped in to perform the piano concertos: Orion
Weiss, in the Triple Concerto alongside violinist Augustin Hadelich and cellist
Julia Hagen; Sir Stephen Hough, Garrick Ohlsson, Minsoo Sohn, and Yunchan Lim
in the remaining concertos.
Orion Weiss is a Cleveland area native – in fact he grew
up just a few blocks from my grandmother’s home in Lyndhurst. I’ve seen him perform several times dating
back to when he was a student at the Cleveland Institute of Music. I’ve also seen Augustin Hadelich perform
several times, including a
staggeringly brilliant performance of Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto last
year. Beethoven’s
Triple Concerto is not a showpiece – it was written for one of the
composer’s royal piano pupils who was probably not very advanced. The greatest technical challenges are
reserved for the cellist, who must play in the instrument’s upper registers –
which Julia Hagan did with accuracy, aplomb, and musicality. Hadelich’s joy in performing this concerto –
which contains chamber music within it – was palpable. Weiss brought sparks to the piano part, and
all three soloists performed with a sense of communing – something much needed
after a difficult and divisive week.
Daniel Reith and the orchestra provided an appropriately scaled
accompaniment.
Following intermission pianist Sir Stephen Hough took to
the stage to perform Beethoven’s
Piano Concerto No. 3 in C minor, Op. 37. I must confess that this is far from my
favorite piano concerto, even among Beethoven’s concerti. After hearing Mozart’s concerto in the same
key, Beethoven exclaimed to a friend “We shall never have an idea such as
that!” Aside from key signature, there
is nothing comparable about the two works.
But Hough brought something special to the piece, a defiant quality that
most pianists too often filter out, which hints at the Beethoven that is to
come. The pianist was creative in his
deployment of inner voices, with some daring pedaling in the slow movement
which allowed harmonies to blend in the way that the composer intended – but
which many pianists in their never-ending quest for clarity are loath to
allow. Hough immediately launched from
the hushed Largo to the final Rondo so abruptly that it startled some in the
audience – which would no doubt have delighted Beethoven. The orchestra’s contribution was equally bold
and decisive.
Garrick Ohlsson was the soloist for Beethoven’s even numbered concertos. Unfortunately, near-constant coughing from one audience member behind and to my left (I was in Row T, keyboard side) disrupted my concentration. The Second Concerto (which was actually written first but published second) was given a lovely, chamber-like quality by Reith and the orchestra. Despite a minor kerfuffle in the opening movement, Ohlsson’s performance was one of bounce, poetry, and wit. Despite its mostly lyrical nature, pianists will tell you the Fourth concerto is a beast to play. I would swear I heard Ohlsson play it at Severance about 20 years ago. The performance was a model of poise, clarity, and musicality by both pianist and orchestra. One feature I noticed was Ohlsson’s careful attention to trills and ornaments – each integrated into the piece. Both performances were enthusiastically received, and the pianist gifted the audience with an appropriate encore: the slow movement from Beethoven’s “Pathetique” Sonata.
The cycle was rounded out with Beethoven’s First Concerto (which was actually composed after the second) and the Fifth Concerto – the so-called “Emperor.”
Beethoven’s
First Concerto must have been quite shocking the first time it was heard in
Vienna toward the end of the 18th Century. In terms of pianism, it goes far beyond anything
Mozart dared – with rapid passagework, arpeggios, constant pianistic gear-shifting,
and even a glissando. Minsoo Sohn, who I’d
never heard of, was the soloist. The outer
movements were brisk and propulsive, with the pianist employing a wider dynamic
range than would have been possible on the pianos of the time. In the opening movement, Sohn chose the most
extroverted of the composer’s three cadenzas, said to be in the spirit of the Beethoven’s
own famed improvisations. The central
movement was given chamber music clarity.
The performance was very warmly received, and the pianist played a
lovely encore: the Aria from J. S. Bach’s Goldberg Variations – with a rare
sense of repose and tasteful embellishments in the repeats.
Sohn’s pupil, Yunchan Lim – who won the Van Cliburn
competition last year – was soloist in the “Emperor”
concerto. It hardly needs pointing
out that Beethoven did not choose the imperial name for this concerto – simply referring
to it as a Concerto in E-flat major for piano and orchestra. Unfortunately, the name has led to an
interpretive approach which too often brings to the work a sense of pomposity
and portentousness – as if it was intended for Henry VIII in the late stages of
his life. Lim had none of that. His treatment of the work was within the
classical mode, with an opening movement notable for its lean, lithe approach
and brisk tempos. The central movement
was, by contrast, a bit heavier than it needed to be; but this was forgotten
when Lim gracefully segued into the final Rondo – delivered with an almost
balletic sense of rhythm. Technically, Lim’s
performance was unimpeachable, although some purists may have been offended by the
pianist’s penchant for moving several ground bass notes an octave lower than written
– beyond the limits of Beethoven’s own keyboard. The bulk of the audience was highly
enthusiastic – myself included. For his
encore, perhaps as a tribute to his teacher, Lim returned to the Goldberg
Variations, turning in a reflective rendition of the work’s 13th
Variation. At a time when much of the
country – and the world – is on edge, it was a welcome moment of shared
relaxation.
In conclusion, the substitute pianists were all wonderful. But Levit’s cancellation irks me. I can't imagine Arthur Rubinstein would have ever cancelled a concert because the conductor had to withdraw. In fact, in over 70 years as a pianist, Rubinstein almost never canceled - he even played two concerts in one day when his manager accidentally double-booked him. The only exception was when he was in his 80s and came down with Shingles. As for the past two weeks, the loss was Levit’s – not the audience’s.