Schubert understood that life sometimes works out and other times . . . well, it doesn't

PANICKY MONDAY 12:15pm UPDATE: OMG, after the heap of fixing and tinkering I've done, suddenly the audio clips aren't loading! I think it's an Internet Archive website problem and, um, maybe it'll fix itself? Please check back, and maybe pray? -- Ed.

RELIEVED MONDAY 12:50pm UPDATE: I think we're OK! In the meantime, I've fixed yet another incorrect clip. Sigh! -- Ed.

The world's first superstar flutist, Jean-Pierre Rampal, with his frequent collaborator -- on both harpsichord and piano -- Robert Veyron-Lacroix

I THINK SOMETHING OF A MIRACLE HAPPENS AT
THE VERY START OF THIS ROUSING MUSICAL BIT

For now let's call it "Flute & Piano Bit A," and note that it consists of a mere eight bars of music, repeated. Note too how differently our two elite performing teams imagine it. (If you need a hint, start by noting the timings.)

Jean-Pierre Rampal, flute; Robert Veyron-Lacroix, piano. EMI, ℗1959
Emmanuel Pahud, flute; Eric Le Sage, piano. Valois, recorded in the Salle de Châtonneyre (Switzerland), February 1994

BUT TO APPRECIATE WHAT HAPPENS AT THE START OF 'BIT A,'
WE NEED TO HEAR SOMETHING REALLY QUITE DIFFERENT

We can call it "Flute & Piano Bit B" -- and note again how differently our performers hear this music. (A word of caution: Be careful not to crank your volume up. Note that this bit begins pp [very soft] for the piano and p [soft] for the flute, and while it does heat up, it quickly cools back down.)

Jean-Pierre Rampal, flute; Robert Veyron-Lacroix, piano
Emmanuel Pahud, flute; Eric Le Sage, piano

by Ken

Before we go on, there are a few more things you should perhaps know about "Flute & Piano Bit A."

(1) My proffer of "something of a miracle" may be misleading, given that we usually think of "miracles" as happy-making events. I think the composer was well aware of this, and really meant for what's happening here to sound happy-ish, but I don't want you to blame me if the "miracle" turns out to seem fairly catastrophic.

In last week's tracing of Imogen Cooper's "Music that changed me," I always intended to pluck some samples of Dame Imogen's piano-playing from the SC archive

by Ken

I got so caught up in arranging our musical examples to enable us to trace Dame Imogen's five choices for "Music that changed me" that I just never got around to plucking those samples out of the archive. So, here are some samples.

MOZART: Piano Concerto No. 23 in A, K. 488:
i. Allegro

Piano Concerto No. 9, in E-flat, K. 271:
ii. Andantino

Northern Sinfonia, Imogen Cooper, piano and cond. Avie Records, recorded live in Hall One of the Sage Gateshead, Gateshead (across the River Tyne from Newcastle-upon-Tyne), England, Oct. 18-20, 2005

Try listening to just the orchestral opening of each of these concerto movements, up to the entrance of the piano. Of course, in the case of the first movement of K. 488, this means the entire exposition, and just listen to the way the conductor shapes the music: so flowing yet soulful, unfussy yet singing in gripping musical poetry.

Then listen to what happens when the soloist enters, taking over the material the orchestra has just introduced us to. Isn't it devilish how uncannily the two statements dovetail, and yet they're not quite the same, because, after all, an orchestra and a solo piano don't "hear" music exactly the same way -- and so the working out of the whole movement is set up: I think the basic reason I love Mozart's piano concertos so much is that somehow or other his unique dramatic imagination oversees them in much the say it does his great operas -- and I realize that that statement of the exposition of K. 488 could be the work of a great opera conductor.

All these musical roles are being played, of course, by one person: our pianist-conductor. Of course K. 488 is a masterpiece, but it isn't one of the Mozart piano concertos I eternally hunger for. Performed this way, though . . . .

K. 271, however, is one of the Mozart piano concertos I just plain adore. It doesn't come competely out of nowhere; we can hear intimations of it in any number of works Mozart composed shortly before it, including its predecesor, the Concerto No. 8 in C, K. 246. And yet, K. 271 explodes in at least my consciousness that had never existed before and maybe would never exist again -- except that Mozart kept performing this feat over and over. There are so many great slow movements among the Mozart piano concertos, and once again in her dual role as conductor and soloist Cooper leaves no doubt that the Andantino of K. 271 can stand with any of its successors.


GETTING INTIMATE WITH BRAHMS