Franz Schubert
Fantasie D 760 ("Wanderer") e D 934

With my first contribution to this illustrious de-recensoreo assembly, I intend to submit to your attention two of the absolute pinnacles of Schubertian chamber music, namely the well-known "Wanderer" Fantasy for piano D 760 and the less frequented, but no less fascinating, Fantasy for violin and piano D 934, both composed in the key of C major.

The genre of the fantasy, it should be noted, represents a type of composition that, by freeing the author's creativity from the narrow confines of form, allows him to express his art in utmost purity while simultaneously running a substantial risk. Unbound by the respectful adherence to the rules of "compositional grammar," the composer finds himself exposed to the listeners: formal architecture, often experienced by the most inspired as a cage for creativity, can just as frequently play the role of a generous life raft for the craftsmen of musical staves, helping them hide mediocre outcomes behind the facade of a predetermined structure. We could thus imagine the fantasy genre almost as an ordeal for the composer, the wall of fire in front of which music reveals its true texture: extremely fine, as in the case of these two gems, or otherwise coarse.

Delving into the details of the two compositions, we find that they have in common, besides the key of C major, a "symphonic" approach due to complexity, balance, range of colors, richness of timbre, and internal coherence. Both fantasies are characterized by the devastating emotional impact, a true stylistic hallmark of our Franz, to the point of being exceptionally immediate and engaging even for those less accustomed to the classical repertoire, and chamber music in particular. At the same time, more trained ears will easily detect in these two works the overwhelming Beethovenian shadow, with explicit reference to the cyclic sonatas of the Maestro from Bonn's later period, and perceive the palpable influence exerted on subsequent generations of composers such as Liszt, Schumann, and Brahms, and, why not, the early works of Schoenberg.

The performance I propose features the impeccable András Schiff at the keyboard. After years of study, recordings, and concerts, often in a monographic key, the Hungarian pianist now embodies the state of the art in the performance of the Viennese classical piano repertoire. His performances are characterized by a total executional rigor, masterful management of timing, dynamics, and volumes, as well as, it is superfluous to mention, absolute technical mastery; all without stranding in the shallows of vain and self-referential practices of extreme philology. Schiff's Schubert soars to dizzying heights, equaled but not surpassed by indisputable eminences such as Alfred Brendel or Wilhelm Kempff. A note in the margin: Schiff, in this performance, refrains from the monopoly of the Steinway and Sons Grand Coda (which has always been the standard of grand pianos for sound, mechanical functionality, round timbre, expressive capacity, and emission power), favoring a marvelous Bosendorfer Imperial, apparently tougher to play, but able to better render the Viennese timbre thanks to an incomparable palette of colors and softness (not surprisingly, live Schiff always presents himself with both pianos, alternating them depending on the repertoire). In Fantasy D 934, the Hungarian pianist works in tandem with the bow of Yuuko Shiokawa, whose ethereal, diaphanous, and crystalline violin weaves tapestries of celestial lyricism, striking straight at the heart of the soul. No words on the cleanliness of the ECM recording and production: it's less trivial to say that the sun illuminates and warms, eternal praise to Manfred Eicher.

The Fantasia D 760 "Wanderer", so named because of the motivic connection (often brief and just hinted at) of each of its sections with a previous Schubert Lied, entitled "Der Wanderer," opens with an Allegro con fuoco, ma non troppo, in dactylic rhythm, which sets the temperament of the entire composition. Indeed, it soon becomes clear that the melancholic and poignant sweetness, with which our Franz habitually spoils us, is here rendered not with the intimate and warm tones of many of the sonatas, impromptus, or moments musicaux, but transferred on a heroic scale with broad piano gestures, echoing Beethoven's "Waldstein" Sonata. Schubert evokes before us Wertherian obsessions, ecstatic passions, burning feelings, and sufferings that sublime the soul: it is an unstoppable vortex of "Sturm und Drang". We then reach the second section, in Adagio, with a singable theme that, too brief to be subjected to variations, is developed and chiseled into fragments, with a gradual growth of romantic intensity; this very sweet episode, after reaching its climax, resolves into an eruption of virulent, wild violence, typical of the slow movements of Schubert's last sonatas (but only the Andantino of Sonata D 959 contains an explosion of comparable anger). If you were sitting in a chair listening, you would most likely find yourself kneeling on the floor with clenched fists at this point, without realizing it. With the Presto and Allegro, the Fantasy moves towards completion, while the technical-executive harshness reaches dizzying heights. The final fugue with cascading arpeggios demands transcendental technique: indeed, it is tied to the elucidative anecdote that Schubert himself, during a performance of the "Wanderer" for a small circle of friends, upon facing the tremendous final fugue, stopped the piece, rising furiously in anger and shouting: "The rest let the Devil play." The final virtuoso movements, never an end in themselves, but functional to a brilliant melodic weave, conclude the work with pyrotechnic brilliance, returning to the initial theme. The cyclic sense of the composition is complete.

I challenge anyone then to find a Schubert composition that begins more gently than the Fantasy for violin and piano D 934: after the introduction of the piano in a tremolo, the violin enters to outline a melody of seductive, enchanting beauty. The entire opening section is performed pianissimo, until the intensity rises to flow into an Allegretto punctuated by a gentle gypsy-style rondo, rendered with delicate staccato. The central part of the Fantasy is illuminated by a series of variations that induce an engaging and passionate emotional crescendo, culminating in a transition with a reprise of the initial theme, this time exposed with an even more expansive sound space. Thus we reach the finale, with the main theme subjected to harmonic variations and a sudden but exhilarating closure.

In conclusion, there is music that reaches the heart through the brain, and music that goes directly to the heart: this belongs to the second category.