JOHANNES BRAHMS (1833-1897)

Sonata in fa diesis minore op. 2 (1852)

• Allegro non troppo, ma energico
• Andante con espressione
• Scherzo
• Finale. (Introduzione -Allegro non troppo e rubato -molto sostenuto)

Tre Intermezzi op. 117 (1892)

• mi bemolle maggiore
• si bemolle minore
• do diesis minore
• Intermezzo in la maggiore op. 118 n. 2 (1892)
• Intermezzo in si minore op. 119 n. 1 (1892)

Concerto registrato il 10 novembre 1988 nell’Aula Magna dell’Università Bocconi - Milano

Registrato il 10 novembre 1988 nell'Aula Magna dell’UniversitàBocconi, Milano; configurazione bi-microfonica ad effetto di campo (Studio Fonè)

Recording engineer: Giulio Cesare Ricci

Direttore di produzione: Giulio Cesare Ricci

Assistente alla produzione: Michele Lippi

Pianoforte: gran coda Kawai Ex n. 1630001

Assistenza tecnica al pianoforte: Andrea Bruzzolo

Grafica: Sergio Tani.

Brahms: La prima e l’ultima onda 

The voyage between thefirst and fast creations of a composer isalways adventurous, rich in unexpected choices, soaring peaks and contradictions. It isfruitless to point out the most famous examples of this. One of the singularities of Brahms’ work, however, lies in the fact that the unravelling of his crea1ivi1y over time does not follow a labyrinthic path. It does not present any powerfully evolutive aspects Just as it does noi reflect involved and tortured crises of weariness or changes of idiom. Despite thefact that the pieces on this record represent the composer’s very early (1852), and late (1896) work, the stylistic difference between the two is not easily perceived; everything seems to flow, perfectly under control, vital and intense. One would say it was the work of a person who had always been endowed with legendary equilibrium, with inner force and with exemplary wholeness of being. Yet onecannot help but recall the saying according to which, “Health is a precariuos state of which one should expect nothing good”. Evidently the decline of the Romantic Era, Brahms wasdominated nor only by a powerful ego, both modest and ironic, but also by a disturbing interlocutor known as “Doppe/ ganger” -that “double conscience”, as complex and exacting as any phenomenon experienced in an era of epigonism. As a result of this, the surfaces, namely the compositional technique, while certainly flawless and fascinating, are only one aspect, andthe most prominent,of Brahms’ music, presaging unexpected dephtswhich even in his early work, indicate a secret and innate capacity to think through the medium of sound. Brahms’ fundamental gift would seem to be memory, or rather a function of the same-the abilityto conceive of and organize, in temporal succession, an invention which is mysteriously cognitive and projecting into the future. Every poet is also a prophet, but Brahms arranges his phrases as if they are flung forward into memory - parodoxical and thrown into a yearningfuture with an inverted mental framework reminiscent of Borges. The great Brahmsian nostalgia is, therefore, rich in these mind games, and although il is true that nostalgia is the “pam of remembrance”, hisjourney is not only in search of a unity and of lost beginnings, but it also carries the expressive weight of his remoteness as a great imitator in epoch ofdramatic changes. All this is shown throughincredible technical prowess, and Arnold Schönberg pointed out in his famous essay on Brahms, that“The greatest gift of a composer is the ability to foresee the future of this themes and motifs. He must be capable of recognising in advance the problems intrinsic to his material, and therefore of overall organization. Whether he does this consciously or not is of secondary importance. It is sufficient that the result should show it". The perennial state of grace in Brahms’ writing sheltered himfrom the risks ofyouthful experimentalism, andfrom crossing the threshold into the era of decadence which followed. Perhaps it is labouring the point lo notice that present in Brahms’ music, as in the work of other musicians gravitating around the Vienna of Robert Musil, are premonitions of that secret evil that was to determine the crumbling of an entire society which had held, it could be said, the destiny of Europe. In the music on this record, we can detect this inner malaise which is woven into the plot of the work and the drama of Brahms’ life. While being careful not to interrupt the filigree of his existence, it is worth nothing that Brahms’ first composition carries the same dedication as his last: Clara Schumann. From the fierce, white heat of the early sonata (the “second” for editorial purposes, but in fact written first), to the serene and emotional leave-taking of hisfinal manuscript, there is a lifespan of forty-four years which werefundamentally lonely and still (fortunately for us), largely a mystery. One psychoanalytical interpretation has even suggested that Brahms suffered from “relationship problems”. However, all this is of little importance to the listener.Infact, to the latter, even more so than to a doctor, the exhausted and relinquished sweetness apparent in some of Brahms’ music which convey the tenderness of regretted love and a lament for what might have been but never was, while not providing a “cure”, absolved Brahmsfrom the painful and essential refusal of love that was with him daily. The nineteen-year-old creator of the spacious and blazing Sonata in F sharp minor, heard publically for thefirst time only in 1882 and ironically named “The Unperformable” by the fearful but exaggerated pianists of the day, is the same man who opened his heart through the folding and shadows of the lntermezzos. As it has already been said, it is not difficult to discern the same hand; the hand which reacted with a powerful constructive sense to the nihilistic prophecies concerning the arts and the spirit put forward by Hegel and then by Nietzsche. From the first page lo the last, we hear that he is conscious of a duty that must be fulfilled. Towards the end of his life, Brahms became convinced that everything had been said in music, and that there was nothing more to explore. By way of being both proof and prophecy of this, his famous meeting al Bad Ischl in 1894 with the young Gustav Mahler comes to mind. The two were leaning on the parapet of a bridge over the Trau, and talking. Brahms was impatient: “Music isfinished; the final notes have already been written; what do believe that you young composers can still do?”. Mahler gesturedlotheriverwater, and replied: "Schauen Sie, Herr Doktor... dort... dort Schauen Sie... das ist die letzte Welle... die letzte Welle... die letzte Welle... ". If the anecdote can be taken to be authentic, it seems that Brahms, forced into seeing the infinity of the “last Wave”, then answered with a smile: “It can at least flow into the sea, and not into a quagmire”. Once again, Brahms is “saved” and, rejecting any self-destructive temptation, he lays himself open to the unknown, renouncing the majestic but decadent burning in himself, for the fire of extreme and ultimate beauty. 

Mario delli Ponti 

Translation by Nicola Swallow