the Marche funèbre seems sliding toward a void, a gesture of resignation, almost posthumous with respect to the dramaThe structure of Pollini’s program is affirmed by the opus numbers, which all date from the years 1837-39, while young De Maria, continuing in his complete works project according to genre, has arrived at the universe of the three Sonatas, full of ideas and sustained by an adequately calculated pianism. We can see this, getting back to our Sonata, in the delicacy, almost modesty with which he plays the central part of the Scherzo and then returns to its sombre fury. The opening of the following movement is pained rather than tragic, insinuating and with a dynamic range that is intentionally controlled (this does not mean less expressive) which designates a selective plan in the distribution of the sound levels: so the Marche funèbre seems sliding toward a void, a gesture of resignation, almost posthumous with respect to the drama. In the same way De Maria plays the Trio: frozen, without sound curves, entrusted to the nudity of the melody, liberated with dazed slowness and an articulation which is cantabile yet almost coded (furthered by the complicity of the very sober recording).
On the contrary the tolling accents, (sforzato and delayed) of Pollini’s Marcia, set up a very theatrical and solemn scene for the piece from the beginning. The Trio brightens into airy melodic enjoyment: here the piano discovers and reveals changing yet meditated colours, without sentimental mannerism – obviously – but moved by a subtle internal anxiety which becomes explicit at intervals, as we can see in the fleeting crescendo in the last part. No less divergent are the interpretations of the first movement of the Sonata: the “doppio movimento” is read by Pollini not as an agogic rule (as it is by De Maria, who nurtures it with a pianistic vertigo not different from that of the closing Presto) but as an inspiration for concentrating sound and musical intent. Even the Grave has no stormy colours, but rather a spectral uneasiness and almost an erect and noble progression, like a polonaise (for those who enjoy measuring by the chronometer, De Maria’s more than 5’ correspond to Pollini’s over 7’; in the Marche funèbre the relationship is over 10’ to over 7’) But the parallel paths could continue. Hopefully, like the adventure of Chopin.
the Marche funèbre seems sliding toward a void, a gesture of resignation, almost posthumous with respect to the dramaThe structure of Pollini’s program is affirmed by the opus numbers, which all date from the years 1837-39, while young De Maria, continuing in his complete works project according to genre, has arrived at the universe of the three Sonatas, full of ideas and sustained by an adequately calculated pianism. We can see this, getting back to our Sonata, in the delicacy, almost modesty with which he plays the central part of the Scherzo and then returns to its sombre fury. The opening of the following movement is pained rather than tragic, insinuating and with a dynamic range that is intentionally controlled (this does not mean less expressive) which designates a selective plan in the distribution of the sound levels: so the Marche funèbre seems sliding toward a void, a gesture of resignation, almost posthumous with respect to the drama. In the same way De Maria plays the Trio: frozen, without sound curves, entrusted to the nudity of the melody, liberated with dazed slowness and an articulation which is cantabile yet almost coded (furthered by the complicity of the very sober recording).
On the contrary the tolling accents, (sforzato and delayed) of Pollini’s Marcia, set up a very theatrical and solemn scene for the piece from the beginning. The Trio brightens into airy melodic enjoyment: here the piano discovers and reveals changing yet meditated colours, without sentimental mannerism – obviously – but moved by a subtle internal anxiety which becomes explicit at intervals, as we can see in the fleeting crescendo in the last part. No less divergent are the interpretations of the first movement of the Sonata: the “doppio movimento” is read by Pollini not as an agogic rule (as it is by De Maria, who nurtures it with a pianistic vertigo not different from that of the closing Presto) but as an inspiration for concentrating sound and musical intent. Even the Grave has no stormy colours, but rather a spectral uneasiness and almost an erect and noble progression, like a polonaise (for those who enjoy measuring by the chronometer, De Maria’s more than 5’ correspond to Pollini’s over 7’; in the Marche funèbre the relationship is over 10’ to over 7’) But the parallel paths could continue. Hopefully, like the adventure of Chopin.