I hate to criticise an artist of the caliber of Emanuel Ax, but just as Grigory Sokolov, to name but one prominent victim, has succumbed to the Historically Uninformed Performance pandemic, so, it would seem, has „Manny“.
We heard him last night in Munich with Beethoven‘s 5th, after waiting in the foyer for him to finish practicing the peskiest passage in the piece (first movement, beginning at bar 551) until 15 minutes before curtain. The opening was promising: a solid tempo and fine orchestral ensemble. Then things came unhinged in the usual Early Music fashion: fluctuating tempi, exaggerated „good“ beats, Grand Larceny rubato — the whole not helped by a conductor who didn’t follow his soloist (difficult as that may have been) and the damnable tendency of woodwinds and brass to rush everything. Mr. Ax was otherwise accurate but harsh. Runs were unclear, tone was produced without molded elegance, trills were weak. So sad to see a great, aging artist, seeking rejuvenation in a revolution which has already devoured its own children.
Thank the Muses, an encore from repertoire untouched by madness saved the evening: Liszt‘s arrangement of Schubert‘s superb Ständchen („Leise flehen meine Lieder“). Mr. Ax was at his unforgettable best here. All the more pity that such a great pianist seems to have lost his way with Beethoven, who attributed a „divine spark“ to the younger composer he never met.
Mr. Ax‘ left hand occasionally darted out during orchestral tuttis to take a bass note. These relics of continuo practice (still found in Chopin‘s concerti) are found here and there in the holograph sketch.
After the interval came Schumann‘s Third Symphony. The conductor disdained to beat time, relying instead on theatrical gesticulations, with predictable results. Even if you follow Schumann‘s overly-ambitious first movement MM of 66 to a bar, things are going to fall apart if you just wave your right arm vaguely once every three quarter notes.
Schumann famously recommended the Well-Tempered Clavier as a musician‘s daily bread. It must have inspired him to write the bizarre double-fugue fourth movement. Attempting to imitate the Thomaskantor is never a good idea.
Checking Ax‘ biography, I was briefly taken down Memory Lane. His Japanese wife studied at Juilliard while I was there. Her teacher was Irwin Freundlich, who was my best friend‘s teacher at the North Carolina School of the Arts, scene of my secondary education from age 16 to 17. Back then the place was a scruffy upstart and the only high school offering a diploma with a major in harpsichord. I must have looked more responsible than I was, because I made a few bucks as a driver for the school, and often collected Mr. Freundlich from Greensboro Airport on his commute from New York. When my friend and I both moved on to Juilliard in 1969, I sat in on the class studio performances whenever I could, so I must have shared the space in the then brand new building with the later Mrs. Ax, and probably heard her play as well.
The facility has since been altered almost beyond recognition. Albert Fuller‘s old studio overlooking Broadway, which received two new Dowd harpsichords during my stay, no longer exists.
May 29, 2024
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