I appreciate your notes about Schubert’s “chichéd” themes. I spent about 10 minutes last summer trying to explain the last movement of D.840 to my saxophonist-friend. “Yes, it’s an overly simplistic melody, almost boring, but that’s precisely WHY it’s interesting,” I said, (but without using the word “precisely.”) “It’s almost like a commentary on absent-mindedness. Thinking about thinking. It’s cool, it’s crazy…” Needless to say, my eloquence did not convert him. Some people don’t like Schubert, either because they miss the depth of his apparently clichéd themes, or because they are irritated and unsettled by his tendency to plunge into circles of questioning, self-referential thought. But, like you, I find these wanderings intriguing, resonant with the way my mind works; they draw me into a personal, shifting and magical musical landscape that often affects me more deeply than Beethoven.

So I disagree with the spirit of the first comment; I am incredibly glad that Schubert was himself and not another Beethoven. But I wonder if Schubert ever tried to be “more than himself?” Probably, given his capacity to doubt. I play the second half of the first theme almost as if Schubert is lunging (albiet delicately) for, perhaps even forcing a resolution. The first half of the folksong theme is followed by a plagal cadence (E-flat – B-flat), “Amen,” thereby consecrating it. Then Schubert moves to E-flat, considering the cliché he just created, but where to go from there? The rest of the phrase does indeed seem haunted by uncertainty, as if Schubert is using rote melodic logic to try to create an appropriate counter statement to the first, sacred part of the phrase. Then, we have the half cadence, which is actually another plagal cadence, this time of the fifth (B-flat – F), Schubert asking, “And this part of the phrase is sacred too, right?” The bass answers…

My favorite moment in this piece is in the recapitulation, when Schubert leaves the part of the Sonata you discussed in this blog, modulating into G-flat, then, tragically, F-sharp minor. His doubts, his questioning, precipitate a storm in the development and this modulation is the scar of that experience. But then, the bass steps up to A, and suddenly we are in D major. It is a beautiful moment, holistic and healing. All the suffering in the sonata has led, unexpectedly, to a new and beautiful key. And the beauty is not shining through in spite of the pieces flaws, but it is there because of them: without F-sharp minor we would not have reached D. And at the end of the movement, he restates the first theme, but only the first part, once as before, then pushed up a third as if admiring it from a different angle, and then back to the first position. He seems to say, “If only the first part of my phrase is sacred, than that is all I need. I won’t try to be Beethoven by lunging after a single drawn-out idea, a single unsullied character. ” And, to validate his trepidatious journey, the rumbling bass trill remains. Even though he has rejected all but the first wisps of the Sonata he recognizes that this doubt, the driving force, may be less his enemy than he thought.

I played the first movement the summer after leaving Bard. I think it helped me, and it means a lot to me. Although I played it with feeling and some degree of understanding, and have thought about it a quite a lot, there are stilll huge chunks of it that elude me, to the point that I have begun to feel that I “failed” to interpret the piece. Reading this post has reinvigorated me, and makes me really wish that I had played some Schubert at Bard.

I hope you don’t mind me leaving long comments like this one. But the ensuing comments and occasional debate are half the fun of your blogs (Well, more like three eighths of the fun…)

I was googling around and doing some research on him. I found out that he has these Ronnie Segev’s music salons where you can actually go over to his place and listen to a bunch of people try out their piano music ( singing, violin, etc) on one another. He’s got an IMDB to: Ronnie Segev’s IBDB page I’m just full of useful info E-mail me if you are interested in more information. I happen to be a pretty big fan and wanted to know if you have heard of him.

The trill sounds to me like a variant thought, an interference in the mind, the intrusion one needs to push aside for the time being until the current, more pleasant task is complete.

Thanks for your very educational, pondering and always entertaining column. I enjoy listening to you whenever I can when you play here in the City by the Bay.

it’s been almost 2 months since your last post. not that posting to your blog is a necessity, but i do miss you so. any chance for even a one-liner to tide me over?

hugs, claire

p.s. here’s your sippy.