Ax is exhilarating

Johannes Brahms

Whatever drew Brahms to Handel’s eight bars of stately, constrained melody, whose range is limited to an octave and whose notes never stray outside the eight notes of their Bb major home scale, will remain a musicological mystery!  But compositionally their very “simplicity” is ideal for the incredible journey penned by the master variationist of his time.

Click to hear the Theme

Emanuel Ax seems as eager as the composer to share the wealth of ideas, sudden turns, unexpected harmonies and rhythmical drive that makes the twenty-five minute performance disappear in a heady wink.

I last heard Ax some fifteen years ago where he tossed off the fiendishly difficult Khachaturian concerto at an American Symphony Conductor (now defunct) under the direction of my mentor Kazuyoshi Akiyama.  His mastery of the keyboard was dazzling but at the time he wouldn’t have been my first choice for the subtleties and breadth of another piano master.  How wrong I can be!

This recording reveals a pianist who has all the tools:  impeccable technique, rhythmic accuracy, Herculean endurance!—but also the all too frequently missing gift of revealing the subtext of the art. He is a worthy advocate of Brahms.

The aria is played just so—clean, clear and subdued.  Imagine being at the première (Clara Schumann performed) and wondering what Brahms would do next to with this wee tune!

Both Brahms and Ax waste no time announcing their intentions delving into the theme until it has exhausted the possibilities (Until Book II!)

Variation 1 is a nickel short of jazz and immediately brings Handel’s music into the modern age.  The lack of harmonic colour in the theme is beautifully foiled with the chromaticism of Variation 2 and the three against two conflicts between right and left hands provides a tension and flow unknown to the Baroque master.

Variation 3 plays unirhythmic peek-a-boo where Variation 4 provides a healthy dose of octaves, rendered with great aplomb by Ax.  Many composers would be hard pressed to have this much variety in these opening minutes, but Brahms has just “finished his technique.”

Only Brahms could have written Variation 5.  The tonic minor (with all 5 flats) seems worlds from its major namesake.  The counterpoint of the two hands—no mere “tune and accompaniment” and the many dynamic shades take the breath away and Ax delivers its inner beauty with a calm that demonstrates special understanding.

Hear it for yourself:  Variation 5

Variation 6 is a textbook canon that provides the perfect contrast to the intimacy of its predecessor.  7 & 8, con vivacita,—now back in the major—have relentless drive that can only be dispelled by the brief silence inserted as a fermata at their surprisingly quiet close.  Was that a dream?  The first section is over.

Now Brahms has warmed to his subject and is ready to really stretch its bounds.  Ax’s responses to the luxuriant legato of 9, the mischievous indecision of 10 and the sublime music-box of 11 are entirely appropriate.  My only quibble with his playing is my penchant for even greater dynamic contrast, particularly the “small” crescendos and accents that are to be found in nearly every variation.

Now the variations start to link.  The quiet, uncertain understatement of 12 sets the table beautifully for the return of the dark tonic minor in 13, where Brahms drops the repeat sign of each section and, instead, writes variations on the variations—this wonderful skill is most famously used in the first movement of his fourth symphony.  Speedy conductors no longer have the “luxury” of skipping the repeat of that exposition!

The constant sixteenths of 14 & 15 keep the pianist busy and the listener engaged; 16 develops through counterpoint where 17 is a study in long and short.  18 brings dialogue – finally the left and right begin to talk to one another.  19 is the most “baroque” of the bunch.  Its relaxing triple metre (a favourite of Handel’s) provides a welcome respite from the wide range of expression experienced so far, but also quietly whets our curiosity for what might come next.  Again Ax rises to the occasion and delivers perfect rhythm and masterful ornaments.

Enjoy it yourself:  Variation 19

Variation 20 shows double darkness:  deep two-sided chromaticism and a shuddering, searching dynamic shape.  Nothing is settled but the final resolution to B flat through the very far door of G flat on the second last beat is one of the most exquisite moments in the entire work—Ax’s weight and slight hesitation shows that its significance has not been missed.

The mist of Variation 21 comes from the subtle combination of three over four (triplets/sixteenths) and the unexpected foray into the relative minor. It’s been along time coming but will not be re-visited.

Safely back in B flat, the next four variations build on themselves:  22 uses naivety; 23 uncertainly—nearly fear; 24 nervous then a defiant 25.  What could follow?

Brahms presents Handel’s theme in the most revered form of the Baroque:  the fugue.  Here we are given a four voice construction (complete with a redundant entry).  The trick is to listen horizontally, rather than our usual vertical (tune plus accompaniment ...) manner.  Brahms develops the developed—he turns the shape upside down (inversion); slows its speed (augmentation) and through his mastery of both harmony and rhythm—particularly syncopated—removes the bar line and lets the music roam freely.  Truly the score is just a representation of the ideas.  Ax navigates with purpose and skill so that when the clarion pedal F’s arrive, the sense of joy and final resolution let us celebrate with him this astonishing work that grew from a slight “previously owned” theme into an affirmation of the human experience in a brilliant combination of notes and thought.

Ax brings it home with authority and truth.

Cross-reference: Michael Esch plays Brahms