Wolfsohn Beethoven Concert Matinee: 1st

Carl Wolfsohn will give six Beethoven Soirees. We have no doubt about his success.

“Series of ten matinees, at Steinway Hall, on alternate Fridays . . . during which he will play the entire collection of Beethoven’s sonatas for pianoforte.”

“By Steinway Hall in this case we do not mean the entire extent of the magnificent concert room lately opened by the Bateman troupe. We refer to the ground existence of a cosy, comfortable place for a piano matinee.  Although the audience at Mr. Wolfsohn’s opening matinee was small it was a thoroughly musical one. We noticed many of the leading artists of the metropolis present, and there were several of the amateurs poring over their well-thumbed pages of the Beethoven sonatas. Mr. Wolfsohn played three sonatas, the F minor, opus 2; the A-flat major, opus 26, and the grand sonata appassionata in F minor, opus 57. The two former are well known to amateurs, and need no explanation. The grand sonata, opus 57, the second of the three colossi of pianoforte compositions, well deserves the name appassionata. There are three parts—Allegro assai, Andante con moto, Allegro ma non troppo e presto. The first movement has a leading theme so striking and impassioned that none could doubt the use that would be made of it by such a poetical musician as Beethoven. The repetition of it a half tone higher is a relation between the tone of the key note and that of its minor second in the scale. As the pianist proceeds the leading theme is further developed, each time in a different fashion, until the composer, with his characteristic unceremoniousness, quits it and introduces the tranquil and expressive melody of the second subject proper, a melody invested with a serene dignity through which its beauty shines resplendent. Again follow beautiful transitions and episodes, by which the interest in each is suddenly arrested by the substitution of another as lively as it is unexpected. Cadenzas, rounded off into completeness, lead from one subject to the other. In the concluding episodes there are constant allusions to the leading theme, which at length brings this superb Allegro to a close. The second part, andante con moto, acts as a charming relief to the foregoing. The three variations of the principal theme serve as different lights to a harmonious picture. The last part is announced by a thoroughly dramatic prelude. Throughout the part we cannot help admiring the skill with which the constant and abrupt changes are brought about. Just at the point where any ordinary composer would have brought his labor to an end some entirely new idea is interposed, and the interest never flags. The conclusion is most brilliant. Mr. Wolfsohn is a conscientious artist, and he seems to have devoted much study to Beethoven, with success, too.  There is still a want of finish and delicacy about his touch, and in some parts the lights and shades are not sufficiently contrasted.  Mr. J. W. Pollack sang four little German songs by Marschner, Schubert and Rubinstein.  He must remove the disagreeable, dolorous tone from his excellent baritone voice, and sing with more life and spirit before he will attain the position to which his voice entitles him.”

The concert was very well attended. Wolfsohn’s performance was flawless as expected, although we could argue with interpretation of some parts. The singer Pollack performed with sensitivity and deep understanding.

“To undertake to interpret the whole range of Beethoven’s piano-forte music requires steady nerves, much self-sustainment, and a devotion to the cause rarely found in these degenerate days. The difficulty of interpreting Beethoven is not so much in mastering the mechanism of the music as in grasping the principal thought of the composer and following it in all its varied moods of passion, tenderness, fancy and sublimity. Considering the genius of the instrument, Beethoven’s sonatas, &c., are not piano-forte music; in a thousand instances their forms are puerile, especially for the left hand, and although, at the period of their conception, they were, perhaps, sufficient for the capacities of the instrument as then developed, there is much poverty and weakness in many of the details. Beethoven was so essentially an orchestral writer, it was impossible for him to dwarf hi conceptions to the capacities of a box of rattling strings. Nearly all his subjects and their working out were conceived orchestrally, and their redaction to the compass of a contraction which admitted neither color nor variety, belittled them sometimes to an almost childish simplicity. It is to cover up these bald spots that the genius of the pianist is taxed, and not one in ten thousand is sufficiently imbued with the Beethoven spirit, or sufficiently intimate with his grand and thoughtful characteristics to sustain the thought in its integrity, or carry it on to the end without losing something of the dignity of the inspiration.

The technical difficulties of these sonatas are very great indeed. The forms of the passages are totally different from those adopted in modern pianism. Beethoven was too independent in his thought to study possibilities or impossibilities; so long as the notes corresponding to his thoughts were there, he was satisfied. He could play them. How others were to accomplish the feat was their business, not his.

To interpret Beethoven, the performer must have mastered all the old forms and their special difficulties; he must have a perfect digital equality, a mind broad and comprehensive, combined with passionate fervor, profound sentiment, varied imagination and dignity and grandeur, beside a perfect familiarity with every characteristic of the composer. In how many pianists do we find such a combination of qualities? 

Mr. Carl Wolfsohn has made the piano music of Beethoven a special study, and, although he does not bring to its execution all the qualities we have enumerated, his diligence and devotion have enabled him to achieve an intelligent and appreciable interpretation, which, if not altogether satisfactory, is both agreeable and instructive. His enthusiasm is genuine, and his earnestness supplies some wants which would be glaring in a colder player. Of the three sonatas executed by Mr. Wolfsohn on this occasion (Nos. 7, 26 and 57), No. 26 was altogether the most satisfactory. In the ‘Marcia Funebre’ there was a lack of weight and sustained grandeur, which mere power could not supply, and without which the solemn thought of the composition is not presented. The other movements were well phrased and developed, and executed with much precision and brilliance. In the Sonata Appassionata, the Andante was one of those bold pieces which the pianist failed to render as intelligible as it ought to have been rendered on the piano, but which the color of orchestration alone could effectively and adequately interpret. 

On the whole, the performance of Mr. Wolfsohn was very interesting; his execution was clear and generally precise, and his tempi were correct and well sustained. His tone is hardly sufficiently mobile for the expressive needs of the compositions, but he well sustained the reputation which precede, and sufficiently interested his hearers to induce them to be present at the remaining matiness of the series. 

Mr. J. W. Pollack sang four German songs in an acceptable manner. The attendance was quite large, far larger than we anticipated, and all present seemed both pleased and satisfied with the first reading of Mr. Wolfsohn.”

(The Musical Week) Wolfsohn’s intention is to make Beethoven popular. He chose to perform in front of a musically educated small circle of connoisseurs. The concert was successful. His performance was perfect, noble and presented with a lovable, sensitive devotion to his art. Despite the too rapid playing of the last movement, the performance of ‘Sonate apassionata’ proved especially that he is the right man for his undertaking.

Pollack filled the intermissions with the pleasant sound of his baritone voice and his impeccable performance of four songs of which especially Rubinstein’s ‘Asra’ left an excellent impression.