Robert Schumann was twenty-eight years old when he composed in 1838 a cycle of eight pieces for piano, the Novelletten (Novelettes) op. 21. This impressive,...

Robert Schumann was twenty-eight years old when he composed in 1838 a cycle of eight pieces for piano, the Novelletten (Novelettes) op. 21. This impressive, highly virtuosic set was dedicated to the pianist Adolf von Henselt, whose spectacular playing and technique were often compared to those of Liszt. Presented by the composer as ‘long, bizarre tales’, the Novelletten were written around the same time as the Kinderszenen, two years before his marriage to Clara Wieck, to whom he confided: ‘I have written a frightful amount of music for you in the last three weeks – light-hearted pieces, Egmont stories, family scenes with fathers, a wedding, in short, the most amiable things.’

Martin Helmchen has taken up this cycle (with the addition of Robert’s Gesänge der Frühe and three excerpts from Clara’s Soirées musicales) with all the passion and virtuosity for which he is famed. He was determined to record this program on a Bechstein pianoforte, in order to capture as many of the colors of this flamboyant musical kaleidoscope as possible.

REVIEW:

The 1860 Bechstein pianoforte featured in the present recording is apparently a model identical to one of Franz Liszt’s preferred instruments. While its sonorities sound musty in relation to modern-day concert grands, its timbral distinctions from one register to another and wealth of colors cannot be denied. What is more, the piano appears to be quite responsive under Martin Helmchen’s nimble fingers, and holds its tuning well. More importantly, Helmchen thoroughly revels in the restless movement and rapid mood-shifts characterizing Schumann’s Novelletten. The quasi-martial spirit of No 1’s outer sections slightly lingers in the tender central episode, where Helmchen colors the imitative lines like a master orchestrator. No 2 goes like the wind, yet it soars more than rushes. Helmchen clarifies No 3’s détaché phrases and close-lying counterpoint with subtle hesitancies and points of emphasis. By playing up the syncopations and cross-rhythmic phrases, he brings out the disquieting subtext behind No 4’s waltzing surface charm, while the pianist’s joyous and characterfully diverse romp through No 5 minimizes the music’s tendency to overstay its welcome.

Conversely, Helmchen resists the usual temptation to rush No 6’s block chords, yet his shapely articulation makes the interpretation sound faster than it actually is. And notwithstanding the instrument’s limited sustaining power, notice the fullness and weight of No 7’s spread chords. As for the epic-scaled No 8, Helmchen gives each section a distinct point of view, yet still manages to integrate them into a cohesive and cumulatively satisfying entity, worthy of comparison alongside the classic Dino Ciani (Stradivarius) and Claudio Arrau recordings (Philips, 2/75).

Clara Schumann’s three Soirées musicales also benefit from Helmchen’s vividly detailed and stylistically spot-on treatments. His controlled soft playing creates an appropriately desolate yet oddly serene sound world in Robert Schumann’s late Gesänge der Frühe, from No 1’s disembodied chorale-like moments and No 2’s linear independence to the vocal quality of No 5’s carefully drawn climaxes. Let’s hope that Helmchen and his vintage Bechstein are destined for further rewarding musical ventures.

-- Gramophone