Customer Reviews

Beethoven: Diabelli Variations

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Pollini's greatest achievement in this recording is to let Beethoven flow in all its complexity to show us how deeply he has studied this masterpiece and how it was concocted: In 1819, the Viennese music publisher Anton Diabelli circulated a waltz of his own invention to 50 composers, each of whom was requested to contribute a variation to the collective project. Beethoven at first disdained the theme as a "cobbler's patch" on account of its mechanical sequences, and then overreacted to Diabelli's invitation, conceiving not one, but 23 variations, 10 fewer than the final number. Recent study of Beethoven's musical manuscripts from 1819 has cast a revealing light on the structure and import of this great work, his longest and one of his most cognitively and emotionally demanding pieces for piano. After having set the composition aside for several years, Beethoven expanded his draft from within in 1823, adding variations 1-2, 15, 23-26, 28-29, and 31 to the pre-established order, while greatly elaborating on the conclusion.

No other work by Beethoven is so rich in allusion, humour, and parody. Trivial or repetitious features of the waltz, such as the C major chords repeated ten-fold in the right hand in the opening bars, can be mercilessly exaggerated, as in variation 21, or dissolved into silence, as in variation 13. Inconspicuous elements of the theme, such as the ornamental turn heard at the outset, can assume astonishing importance, as in variations 9 and 11, which are based throughout on the turn. Several variations allude to Mozart, Bach, and other composers. The most obvious of these is the reference, in the unison octaves of variation 22, to "Notte e giorno faticar" from the beginning of Mozart's Don Giovanni. This allusion is brilliant not only through the musical affinity of the themes -which share, e.g., the same descending fourth and fifth- but through the reference to Mozart's Leporello. Beethoven's relationship to his theme, like Leporello's relationship to his master, is critical but faithful. And like Leporello, the variations after this point gain the capacity for disguise. Variation 23 is an étude-like parody of pianistic virtuosity alluding to the Pianoforte-Method by J.B.Cramer, whereas variation 24, the Fughetta, shows an affinity in its intensely sublimated atmosphere to some organ pieces from the third part of the Clavierübung by Bach.

The work as a whole consists of one large form with three distinct regions. The opening variations remain close to basic parameters of the theme (such as its metre) and show gradually increasing freeedom, which at last turns into dissociation in the contrasting canonic variations Nos. 19 and 20, and in No. 21, in which the structural parts of each variation half are themselves placed into opposition. In performance time, these variations represent the midpoint. A sense of larger formal coherence is created through unusually direct reference to the melodic shape of the original waltz in three variations inserted in 1823 -Nos. 1, 15, and 25. In No. 25 the waltz is reincarnated as a humorous German dance, but this image is gradually obliterated in the interconnected series of fast variations culminating in No. 28, in which harsh dissonances dominate every strong beat throughout.

After Variation 28, we enter a transfigured realm, in which Diabelli's waltz, and the world it represents, seem to be left behind. A group of three slow variations in the minor culminates in Variation 31, an elaborate aria reminiscent of the decorated minor variation of Bach's Goldberg set, while also foreshadowing the style of Chopin. The energetic fugue on E flat that follows is initially Handelian in character; its second part builds to a tremendous climax with three subjects combined simultaneously before the fugue dissipates into a powerful dissonant chord. An impressive transition leads to C major, and to the final and most subtle variation of all: a Mozartian minuet whose working-through through rhythmic means leads, in the coda, to an ethereal texture, strongly reminiscent of the famous Arietta movement of Beethoven's own last sonata, Op 111, composed in 1822. Herein lies the final surprise: the Arietta movement, itself influenced by the Diabelli project, became in turn Beethoven's model for the last of the Diabelli Variations. The end of the series of allusions thus became a self-reference and final point of orientation within an artwork whose vast scope ranges from the ironic caricature to sublime transformation of the commonplace waltz.

Pollini was rumored to have a Diabelli recording in the making as far back as 1980. A better match for performer and work can hardly be imagined. The disc joins the short list of great Diabellis on record (Schnabel, Shure, Serkins father and son).

The performance is not quite what many would expect from the pianist. There is a quality of rumination that Pollini in 1980 might not have achieved. The architecture of the work (or an architecture, at least) is revealed with a confidence that rivals Schnabel's. The final variation is taken at a stunningly slow tempo; I was reminded of the Vegh Quartet playing the slow movement of Op. 135.

The Diabelli is one of the greatest challenges for the pianist-musician. Pollini has risen to the task. The disc commands attention and respect.

I always thought that Beethoven's Diabelli Variations were the piece that suited best Pollini's art and hoped that someday he would decide to record them. But, as ready as I have been, Pollini's interpretation has spoiled all my expectations. Surely, his Diabelli have the same stature with the definitive version of the last Beethoven piano sonatas he signed with Deuschte Gramophon but they are not in the same vein.

Here we find a more moving interpreter, vulnerable and almost fragile in expression. Listen to Variations 7, 8, 11, 13, the hesitant lightness of the basses sounding like a kind of barcarole. Variation 20 is played with supreme abandon as an agonizing heartbeat while variation 24 (fughetta) made one regret even more that Pollini has not recorded Bach's Well tempered Klavier. As to Variations 31 and 33, they sound profoundly dramatic by means of sheer reserve and projection in the unknown.

Could one expect to listen to a more interrogative version? Polllini plays those variations as if he had no straight answer and kept wondering and wandering about aimlessly expressing thus surprising humility in his approach of this masterpiece.

I have several versions of Diabelli Variations respectively by Pludermacher, Brendel (DG, Vox), Kovacevich, Arrau and above all Richter. Yet, Pollini is second to none. Apparently less authoritative than Richter, he is at the same time more human.

Pollini has provided a stunning answer for those who still doubted his capacity to show pure sensitivity.

I'm sure this recording will serve as another document in the Great Pollini Debate (one of the greatest pianists of all time or "mere mechanicus," as Mozart put it?). As one who's been on the "anti-Pollini" side, let me say at once that this is one of the greatest performances of the Diabelli Variations I've ever heard. What impresses first of all is the clarity and power of Pollini's playing--for example the left hand in 16 and the right hand in 17, the miraculous articulation of the right hand triplets in 7 and the left hand runs in 25. But Pollini is also capable of great tenderness--the flowing simplicity of the fughetta (24) and the beautiful balancing of chords in 20 and 29. Best of all are the last three variations: the dignity of 31, the bracing and energetic (but not hectic) fugue, and the delicacy of 33 (Maurizio, you ol' charmer!). Recorded sound is not exactly sensuous, but it fits Pollini's playing to a T. The only down side is Pollini's singing, which is becoming more intrusive with time. The odd thing about his singing is that it's most intrusive in loud passages (6, 9, the loud chords in 17). I imagine he thinks we can't hear him when the music's loud. Perhaps some producer ought to say, "MAURIZIO, WILL YOU JUST SHUT THE HELL UP!" But honestly this is a minor porblem in just a few variations. All told, this great performance belongs in the collection of every Diabelli lover.

Diabelli was a minor composer and music publisher. He had a brilliant idea for promoting himself and his publishing company by recruiting fifty of the most illustrious composers of the Austrian Empire to supply a single variation on a waltz he had written. Everyone who was anyone in the music world responded. The work was published in 1824 as the"Vaterländische Künstlerverein" and included composers such as Liszt, Czerny, Schubert, Hummel, Kalkbrenner, and Mozart's son, Wolfgang.

Beethoven, one of the supreme masters of the variation form, began working on some ideas for this "cobbler's patch" of a waltz, as he called it. He soon had several good ideas and continued developing these into one of the major works of his late period and one of the great examples of the variation form of all time. A pianist as important as Alfred Brendel has referred to "The Diabelli Variations' as the greatest of all piano works. The collected set of variations were published in 1824. Beethoven's set was also published in that year, but as a separate volume. Its importance was immediately recognized and maintained its stature ever since, no matter the musical fashions.

Muarizio Pollini has long been heralded for his technical wizardry and he has many fans who also love his approach to the music he plays. Others find that they feel held at a distance and that his playing lacks the warmth and friendliness of other great artists. No matter which side you fall on, you can find this recording brilliant and insightful. This is widely acclaimed recording and it deserves the praise it gets.

While I do believe that it is wrong to criticize an author for not writing the book you want or the artist for not taking your preferred approach to the music, I do have one quibble with Pollini's interpretation. One of the very important aspects of this work is its humor. This is a masterwork with very serious musical aspects as analysts have been pointing out since its publication, but they also note that it is funny. No, Beethoven is not a cheap joke maker, but the work does have some laugh out loud moments.

One of the things a pianist needs to pull this work off, is the ability to tell a joke and Pollini may lack that ability. The pianist must not only be able to smile, but have be able to communicate a knowing wink with his listeners. I shouldn't fault him for that, and I really don't, because he brings so much great work to this recording. But I have never felt the humor in this recording. Plenty of transcendence, but not a single nudge to the ribs. Nor have I read anything about this recording commenting on its humor, or heard anyone tell me they laughed at this or that variation. For me, the dizzying aspects of the work begin from the waltz itself. Every variation has such wide contrast, or such witty parody, or anything else Beethoven spins off that it is hard not to think of this work as a huge mystical scherzo.

Still, if you love this work, this is a recording you should hear and enjoy. However, I will keep looking for a pianist who "gets it".

This is an engaging and (dare I say it?) entertaining recording of Beethoven's Diabelli Variations. In this performance, the many distinctive moods of this work, from the playful (Var. 5) and exhuberent (Variations 23), to the quietly introspective (Var. 24), the eerie (no's 14 and 20), the graceful (Var. 8), the irreverent (what else could you call Beethoven's choice of theme?), and the immensely personal world of the final variations, are vividly presented, full of individuality, yet, with an understanding of the relationship of each one to the variations around it and the work as a unified whole. Although this interpretation is `intellectual', it is by no means `studied', and the work unfolds naturally and with authority in this emotionally satisfying performance. Highly recommended.

My reference for this piece is Daniel Barenboim's, but I haven't listened to it in years because the disc got scratched to the point that it was unlistenable. So for the most part I came to my conclusions about this recording only from listening to it while I was working on the piece myself. I may never be able to play it as well as Pollini, but I can dream, right?

Nobody has been happier than me to experience a Maurizio Pollini who knows how to be gentle and humane. Some of his recordings from the '80s and early '90s, like the Chopin Fantaisie in F minor, sound like someone who hates the piano and wants to strangle it to death. His recent Schumann and Beethoven recordings are the product of a very different and more mature musician, one who has the same ability to pierce and project structure but doesn't feel the need to make everything loud and fast into a test of whether a listener's eardrums can explode from too much mental intensity.

Actually, he really seems to be enjoying himself now, and it shows amply throughout this disc of the Diabelli Variations. This work attracts the best and the brightest of each generation, but it's rare to sound someone who actually sounds like they were having fun in the recording studio. It's quite infectious, and for me, that feeling of good cheer is the best reason to recommend this CD. Here we have someone who has known and performed the piece for decades, endured all the hardships, and still simply gets a kick out of doing it.

Some things I didn't like: VI is very muddy, especially the left hand. In VII Pollini's dynamic choices are strange and make it sound weak and watery. The timing in XIII is off and the comedy is lost. XXIX sounds mechanical.

Some things I did like: the slightly ponderous, upright feel of III is just right. IV is beautiful and blossoms perfectly. VIII is clear and elegant. X is a quicksilver delight. The alarm bells in XVI are perfectly hideous. XXXI, the Largo, is simply perfect, and the concluding variation is the ideal capstone. After all of the jeering and hissing at Diabelli's expense, Beethoven takes us back to an older time with a simple, graceful menuetto. Was it a reaction to the waltz trend which was sweeping Europe at an alarming rate and rocketing inconsequential composers to fame? Or was this his way of coming to peaceful terms with what was, at heart, a fairly innocuous and fun little ditty? Pollini doesn't answer that question, but his reading is marvelous food for thought.

Whether or not you respond to Pollini's account of the Diabelli Variations depends on your response to his Apollonian approach, which some will undoubtedly find impersonal and aloof (this is a protege of Michelangeli, after all). In the hands of some pianists, the Diabellis are a complex world in which Beethoven unfolds his entire range of pianaistic devices. At their best, such performers -- Richter being the supreme example -- offer an astonishing variety of touch, mood, and invention. Other great pianists -- here I think of Serkin -- take a sterner view and approach the Diabellis as a kind of heroic Himalayan peak; for them there's a spiritual height to be reached. And for yet another class of performers -- here I think of Brendel -- there's an attempt to humanize the Diabellis, bringing them down to earth with wit and dancing rhythms so that this inhospitable, thorny work can be enjoyed by the common listener.

Pollini belongs to none of these groups. Instead, he attempts to unify this long, exhaustive work, drawing us into a single, uninterrupted experience. Is this an unyielding, even imperious approach? For some listeners that will prove to be the case. No one can doubt, however, the superhuman ease with which Pollini conquers the technical demands of the music, an ease which makes it sound less nerve-racking. There's not the slightest sense of struggle. Nor is he ponderous, self-important, or rhetorical. As a proclaimed admirer, I should be completely happy, but I think there's a weakness here. In concert Pollini's ability to create a single unified experience is hypnotic; I've heard Carnegie Hall fall silent for half an hour under his spell. But recordings work differently. On disc, this Diabelli reading can sound rather too uniform without being hypnotic. At least that's how I feel about it on certain days. On others the magic works. At least there's magic in the offing.

So this set of variations represent the most difficult of Beethoven's piano compositions.
If not briefed on this 'fact', one would in no way figure out how difficult the piece is under Pollini's hands: he was so fleet and fluent, so at ease and relaxed, so refined and expressive in this recording.
There are numerous other recordings of this set that leave the listeners strained and even bored upon listening. Surprisingly, while I approahced this with the same premonition, but happily got a totally different experience upon listening to the entire set - the variations are presented in so many different tone colours, so variant in mood and tempi, as if each individual short excerpt has its own tale to tell. Yet binding them 34 short excerpts together is the structured Beethoven style that runs through from the start right to the very end.
It was Beethoven speaking throughout; not Pollini. The way Pollini approached the excerpts - in a highly authentic and classic-romantic style that betrays no self-indulgence as in some other eminent interpretors (like Friedrich Gulda's 'jazzy' set), at the same time unconsciouly demonstrating a diabolical technique is some thing that represent nothing but the pinnacle of this performer's artistry.

I have heard the Diabelli Variations over the years. I have heard Richter, Barenboim, Sokolov, etc..

No recording impressed me as much as that of Pollini. It is so convincing that I forgot performance of all other records.

It is amazing how Beethoven, which requires an obsession for perfection, it falls well in Pollini.

I recommend