San Francisco Classical Voice

Finding all the notes of these six sonatas is not particularly burdensome for any pianist with decent basic training. Yet in one of his letters, Mozart himself referred to them as difficult to play. Indeed they are — that is, if you can dig out what Mozart scholar and conductor Bernard Paumgartner termed their “weightless artistry.” And then there’s the better-known quote from pianist Artur Schnabel: “They are easy for amateurs, but impossible for professionals.” The sense of balance within these sonatas so often shifts quickly from assertive to playful, from light to dark colors, while seeming always bright on the surface. They present monumental problems for any pianist needing to do more than just tickle the ivories.

The Second Sonata possesses several odd features. It's Mozart’s only sonata slow movement in a minor key, and sounds most typical of the sort of music he would write for some grieving maiden’s operatic aria. But that impression is quickly dispelled by a brisk, terse finale of the sort that Haydn might have written. And indeed, several critics have pointed out the similarities to Haydn’s Sonata No. 38, which also happens to be in F Major and has a slow movement in minor mode followed by a presto finale. To me, though, the idea that Mozart cribbed some of it seems a tad far-fetched, since the Haydn work had only just been published.

Writing for a connoisseur, Mozart could let his wig down for the Sixth Sonata. He felt no immediate need to be restrained by the tastes of general public. As a result, the Sixth runs abnormally long for the period. The development of the first movement is greatly extended and brimming with dramatic tensions. The slow movement is titled Rondo en Polonaise — odd for Mozart — although it reveals no hint of the basic metric value that Chopin himself assigned to his polonaises. And for a finale, Mozart added a long set of variations in a playful Bavarian style. In a sense, the sonata seems likely to have been handmade for his Munich patron, rather than for what Shakespeare referred to as “the groundlings.”

Sonata No. 12 comes from the great set of three of 1783-1784 vintage, K.330 through K.332. When major touring pianists program Mozart sonatas, they usually choose one from this set, and hence all of them are familiar to most listeners’ ears. The Twelfth Sonata sports a demure face, dotted by little “in” jokes, plus an outstandingly beautiful slow movement, and what was to become a characteristic Mozart finale: an Allegretto in style rather than a quick Rondo. Of the four sonatas that Silverman performed on Sunday, this drew what was easily his finest playing. The implication is that he must have played it fairly often over the years.

The seventeenth of Mozart’s sonatas was written just three years before his death. It displays many advances in subtle key modulation, as well as a more intricate use of counterpoint than is typical. The three movements are again large scale, but as if to glance back over the shoulder, with the Allegretto finale genuflecting toward Haydn. There’s something uncannily Austrian at work here. But then, Mozart was keenly aware of regional stylistic quirks, and frequently adapted his compositions to local tastes.

Robert Silverman is clearly an able pianist. He has appeared with major orchestras from Sydney to St. Petersburg and given recitals in Europe as well as all over North America. His recordings have won major prizes. He’s also a distinguished teacher, most recently at the University of British Columbia’s music department in Vancouver, and he is about to assume the post of artist-in-residence at Toronto’s Koffler Center.

He played all the notes and stuck to well-judged tempos, with just a little freedom of pulse here and there. His playing was, however, assertive — à la Beethoven. He varied dynamic levels, but not much, and most often played loudly. One curious tendency was his inclination to overplay his left hand, especially in the low register. Some passages had the bass line nearly blanking out the upper melodic lines. But for me his two more serious flaws were a lack of tension when it was most needed, and a propensity to simply thump staccatos. Silverman played well enough, in many ways, and is a serious and obviously skillful musician. But no gold star for his Mozart.

(Heuwell Tircuit is a composer, performer, and writer who was chief writer for Gramophone Japan and for 21 years a music reviewer for the San Francisco Chronicle. He wrote previously for Chicago's American and the Asahi Evening News.)

©2006 Heuwell Tircuit, all rights reserved