reviews
CD Review: Mendelssohn Discoveries and Mendelssohn Rarities (Decca)
Prosseda’s articulation is a miracle of clarity.Roberto Prosseda: Discovering Mendelssohn
BY COLIN CLARKE
World premieres of the music of Felix Mendelssohn don’t come along every day. Roberto Prosseda is a pianist with a mission—the dissemination of the music of Mendelssohn outside the comfort zone of the familiar. Not one, but two full discs of material now grace the record shelves, both full of newly discovered gems. Even the familiar is given a different slant, in Mendelssohn’s own arrangements of movements from his own Midsummer Night’s Dream.
Mendelssohn’s music is evergreen. I put it to Prosseda at the beginning of our telephone interview that, even through the notorious vagaries of the recording process, he manages to project the freshness and spontaneity that lies at the core of Mendelssohn’s mode of expression. How does he manage to keep it sounding so fresh via multiple takes, or does he do multiple takes with patching afterwards? Preparation is the key—performances prior to the recording sessions form a key part of the process. Of course, some modern technology is used. Prosseda is keen to talk about one of the many points of interest of these discs—the actual piano used.
“I chose a special piano, which sounds very different from the normal Steinway sound.” Prosseda has opted for this completely hand-made Italian piano, an instrument with a softer sound without losing the richness. “Anyone expecting the Steinway sound will be surprised.” This is a carefully considered choice, for the bass register gives better clarity for the counterpoint, particularly useful in the fugues, of course. This clarity is “not easy to achieve with a Steinway, which has a very organic sound.” Also, the entire upper half of the keyboard is supported by no fewer than four strings per note. The piano in question is a Borgato (the piano technician being a certain Luigi Borgato). As my reviews reveal, this is a sound choice, for counterpoint is indeed ideally delineated. With the hammers used, the action is not so sharp, so one gets a softer sound with all the richness and clarity.
Given Mendelssohn’s well-documented admiration for the music of Johann Sebastian Bach, it was indeed inevitable that the subject of counterpoint cropped up early in the conversation—Mendelssohn was writing canons when he was nine or 10. Mendelssohn studied with Karl Friedrich Zelter (1758–1832), who had a “didactic approach based on Bach.” I comment on the naturalness of Mendelssohn’s counterpoint and how at various points it seems Mendelssohn is not so much presenting various lines simultaneously as various emotional states.
When Prosseda continues, he refers to around a hundred notebooks of Mendelssohn’s, full of exercises. Prosseda not only clearly finds research an integral part of his musical activities, but he also seems to use it as a springboard for the inspiration of his performances. The Fugues on these two discs present “an interesting mix of traditions.” When one hears these fugues (“particularly the E??one”)‚ there is “an expression of Romantic feeling that is not in Bach.” Indeed. “If I were playing as if it were by Bach, I would maybe use much less rubato.” Prosseda points out that, to his knowledge, Mendelssohn was the first composer to use piano fugues as distinct concert items, conceived specifically for the piano and conceived specifically for public performance. And his favorite? The C? Minor—a wonderful eight-minute double-fugue.
The lack of performances of this fugal repertoire comes up for discussion. Rudolf Serkin played the Prelude and Fugue in E Minor, op. 35/1 (“very well”—Serkin recorded it in 1976) and Prosseda finds it interesting that Benjamin Frith for Naxos and Martin Jones for Nimbus, both of whom have done sterling Mendelssohn service, are both English. The ever-sensitive Murray Perahia comes in for praise, too, but there is one name that sails above all others. Friedman. In Friedman’s playing, Prosseda finds a “balance between direction and freedom, a huge variety of color from the piano, natural feeling, and freshness.” There is a group of nine Songs without Words played by Friedman on Naxos 8.110736. As Prosseda says, he cannot try to play like Friedman, as that was playing of a different era. “I would get very bad reviews,” he quips, but he can take the richness and the poetry from him.
When all is said and done, there seems to be a huge amount of Mendelssohn ripe for discovery by the world-at-large. There are in excess of 50 fragments that are not in a state of sufficient completion to warrant concert performance—yet. Prosseda speaks of contacting varius authors to complete them—no easy task, as it is hard to keep to Mendelssohn’s style and stop it from slipping into Schumann or even Brahms. I make a parallel here between unfinished Mendelssohn and unfinished Schubert sonatas, but Prosseda finds a difference—he has not yet found a satisfactory completion of a Schubert sonata.
The scope of Mendelssohn’s writing seems so large and his imagination so varied that I tentatively suggest a falling off in Mendelssohn’s output as the years went on. Prosseda agrees that there was a certain subsiding of this adventurous spirit. “As he grew up, he became too much concerned about other people’s opinions” in an attempt “to be accepted by all parts of the cultural world. Mendelssohn was very ambitious when he was very young,” something it is easy to appreciate when one listens to these two discs.
Of the four sonatas on the “Rarities” disc, Prosseda cites the F-Minor as his favorite, particularly the first movement. He is keen to cite the “striking, suprising harmonies, and the cadenzas” as indicative of a parallel development with Schubert. Prosseda also points out, “What is interesting is that even though these sonatas were written at a very young age, one sonata is quite different from the other.” One might veer towards Mozart, another towards Bach, yet another might move towards Schubert. The sonatas were written within a few months, one after the other. Yet there are huge leaps. As Prosseda says, one need only compare the A-Minor with the E-Minor. They are only three months apart, yet in terms of Mendelssohn’s evolution, they are quite incredible, considering how old he was. “Despite Mendelssohn’s age, this music deserves to be recorded and to be performed around the world.” One can only agree, having heard the recordings.
I turn now to the programming of discs. “Discoveries” moves larger pieces to smaller ones and then to Mendelssohn’s own arrangements of pieces from Midsummer Night’s Dream—was the intention to lead listeners along by the hand, as it were? The answer is that Prosseda considered how we listen to music today, going from one piece to the other, and tried “to create a track for the listener.” He wanted to put something substantial in there, and also thought about how the tonalities could be connected. Too many pieces in same key is anathema to Prosseda. He likes the idea of finishing with the Wedding March, and it does indeed leave one feeling remarkably satisfied. And what a lovely change from the arrangements we most often hear of these movements (most obviously, Rachmaninoff).
There’s more in the pipeline, too. Prosseda mentions the Double Concerto (piano, violin, and orchestra) plus an unpublished concerto of 1840–41. He finds it strange to be able to say that “Today I am going to give the world premiere of some Mendelssohn,” as well he might. As he points out, “many other people knew about these pieces, but none of them had the idea of recording them,” maybe in some cases because of the very bad condition of the manuscripts—Mendelssohn’s script can be hard to decipher. Whatever the case, the fact is that these works are now beginnning to see the light of day, and for that we must be grateful.
Roberto Prosseda is clearly a questing spirit.
MENDELSSOHN Fantasia in c/D. Capriccio in e?. Ein Lied ohne Worte in F. Adagio and Presto agitato in b?. Lied in E?. Albumblatt “21. Mai” in A. Lied in A. Kleines Lied in A. Andante in D. Sonatina in E. A Midsummer Night’s Dream: Scherzo; Notturno; Wedding March ? Roberto Prosseda (pn) ? DECCA 476 3038 (78:29)
MENDELSSOHN Piano Sonatas: in f; in e; in a; in c. Etudes: in C; in a; in d. Fugas: in E?; in c? ? Roberto Prosseda (pn) ? DECCA 476 5277 (70:07)
If your appetite has been well and truly whetted by the above interview, let me assure you these discs will not disappoint. The first, “Discoveries,” was issued in 2005; the second, “Rarities,” in 2006. The Fantasia that opens the “Discoveries” disc is quite amazing in its emotional scope, especially considering Mendelssohn was a mere 14 when he wrote it, in 1823. There is a remarkable depth to recitative-like passages, while a toccata-like fugue reveals the Bach-link that I discussed with Prosseda. In fact, Prosseda’s articulation is a miracle of clarity.
The Fantasia lasts 25 minutes and is as substantial a statement as its duration implies. The Capriccio that follows is hardly lighter, despite the connotations of its title—the fact it is set in E? Minor should offer a clue as to its true nature. The opening Andante section is unbearably intimate, the ensuing Allegro impetuous of spirit. Irresistable in its forward motion, this latter section is nevertheless a carefully constructed sonata form.
As discussed during the course of the interview, the trajectory of “Discoveries” is to move from large statements via smaller ones through to the composer’s own arrangements of pieces from A Midsummer Night’s Dream. The Lied ohne Worte in F (c. 1841) is quite simply heavenly (the melody simply melts), whereas the Lied in E??explores darker regions. Note that the Adagio and Presto agitato is an alternative version of the Capriccio, op. 33/3. The recitative-like, fantasia-tinged Adagio portrays clouds that recur during the course of the Presto. Contrast this with the truly idyllic D-Major Andante. Does counterpoint come any more naturally than this? Prosseda’s light touch once more impresses in Mendelssohn’s Scherzo from A Midsummer Night’s Dream (tremendous finger legato on display here throughout). A hymnlike Nocturne, steeped in mystery and magic, contrasts with a Wedding March of almost orchestral sonority.
The “Rarities” disc is no less fascinating, a procession of four sonatas, three etudes, and two fugas. As was the case with “Discoveries,” every single track is a world premiere recording. The F-Minor Sonata is in essence a free-flow of ideas. If it is not as F Minor-ish as the op. 95 quartet (inevitably), it nevertheless presages the later work’s aura. The gorgeous yet intense C-Major Adagio middle movement is perhaps less of an innocent pastorale in Prosseda’s hands than R. Larry Todd’s excellent booklet notes would imply. Perhaps the ending of the finale feels a little brusque, but this is mightily impressive music. Todd links the Introduzione of the E-Minor Sonata to a sonata by one of Mendelssohn’s teachers, Ludwig Berger (the latter’s C-Minor Sonata, op. 7, of five years earlier, 1815), the linking factors being the dissonant dotted rhythms and the hand crossings of the opening. Prosseda finds a Scarlatti-like purity to the part-writing—interestingly, the finale seems to invoke this composer, also. The A-Minor Sonata brought the third movement Trio of Beethoven’s Sonata, op. 2/3, to my mind (in its registral shiftings). The middle movement, a Tempo di menuetto, brings huge contrast (a genteel, slow Menuet) before the busy finale rounds things off. The C-Minor Sonata is entirely “of its own key” (it could be in no other key, essentially). There is a wide emotional range here, and the second movement carries the emotional charge of the first as an undercurrent. The determined, non-stop finale seems entirely logical
The Etudes were probably for Mendelssohn’s own use and for his sister, Fanny. Each one here centers on a different technical issue (wide left-hand leaps, third/sixth doublings, and rapid passagework with crossings). Actually, the leaps of the C-Major are great fun; the A-Minor is notably sadder of gait and the D-Minor must be fun to play if you have the technique (and Prosseda has, needless to say). Finally, two fugas. The Eb Fuga is subdued and finely shaped in its masterly unfolding, but I for one have to echo Prosseda’s admiration for the C#-Minor. At over eight minutes, there is not a suggestion of rush. The organ-like bass gives a clue of Mendelssohn’s ambition here. A magnificent way to close the disc. Colin Clarke
Colin Clarke
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