The kindest thing one can say about this is that the fine visuals constitute a very humane effort to revitalize an otherwise plodding and dreary rendition. The overall effect is rather more 'Dante' than 'andante'. I had to follow with a 'Brendel-seltzer' for relief.
i thought this was an inredibly romantic and hartfelt, intimate recording, but then i read glenn gould. It's incredible how our presuppositions about eccentric personalities can influence our enjoyment of great art. To me, this interpretation sounds almost improvisatory, the way i conceptualize many of beethovens bagatelles
I don't know what you are talking about. Yet another of millions of TH-cam comments that employ every rhetorical device they can to express that they simply didn't get what a rendition was about
@d.macrae461 ... I'd read through this piece (along with the other opus 126 bagatelles) several times over the years, but it never made a strong impression on me, and when I first heard this performance by Gould, I didn't even recognize it. But I knew I had to make a video of it. I'm sorry you can't enjoy it as much as I do.
I'm really torn here. On the one hand, this cannot possibly be how Beethoven intended that piece to sound. If it were, he wouldn't have indicated "Andante". Andante does NOT mean slow; only amateurs think that it does. I agree with you on that. On the other hand, I reject the notion that a piece has to be played how the composer intended it. It's nice and interesting when it's done that way; it's also nice and interesting when it's being transformed, appropriated and assimilated for different tastes and styles. When a composer publishes something, he forfeits any say over how it is to be performed. If he wants it to be played only the way he envisioned it, he should keep it unpublished and perform it himself, or have it performed by his trusted disciples. And once a composer is dead, all bets are off anyway, because dead people have no rights. I'm a big advocate of historically informed practice, and I prefer it over all others, but I acknowledge that that's just my personal taste, and others should not play historically informed because they have to, but because they want to - if they want to. In that light, Gould was perfectly justified to turn this Bagatelle by Beethoven into a Bagatelle based on Beethoven. It gave us a new perspective of that piece, and - if nothing else - something to talk about. It can't be denied that his rendition infused a degree of suspense and emotional depth into the piece, that other renditions lack. But then again, it also infused Gould's peculiar, brutish, even vulgar tone quality. Gould had great musicality, but poor taste. His tone, while expressive, is not beautiful. Does music have to be beautiful? No. There is room for violence, vulgarity, depravity, dryness, comedy, severity, coldness, and much more in music. But when a piece is endowed by the composer with a great potential for beauty, I think it's a missed opportunity when the performer won't capitalise on it. By the way, people often make the mistake of conflating emotional depth with beauty. These two concepts are not contingent on each other. A composition can be beautiful, or it can be moving, or both, or neither. And of course the rendition of a composition can be altogether different in that regard. Gould has always excelled at infusing emotional depth into pieces that inherently contain very little of it. For some reason, he never seemed to be able to achieve that without pouring grotesque articulations, out-of-tune humming and grunting, and freakish arpeggios all over the piece. To me, this recording tastes like delicious Viennese cake with American processed cheese on the side. I'm grateful for the experience, I even enjoyed it for its novelty, I was even deeply moved by it, I'm happy that it exists, I even consider it to be great. But I feel no desire to listen to it again. Also, @smalin's visualisation is once again exquisite.
@ what does slow mean? What did slow mean to Beethoven? How fast is the walk of an andante? The only way to truly know the tempo a composer intended is the metronome - which Beethoven championed. What we can be sure of, is that the meaning of allegro, presto, adagio etc changed rapidly over a short duration of time. Already between Haydn and mozart, the meaning of allegro was transformed. So whether prestissimo means “as quickly as possible” or “as quickly as good taste would allow” and whether andante means “as quickly as the strides of a reasonable person walking” or “slowly moving forward” is not obvious at all, and up to the sensibilities of the artist - or the metronome mark.
This is top tier Beethoven, goodness me. What incredible writing.
The expression of the trill @ 2:27 is really out of this word. From here, the piece starts building strongly its emotional climax.
my favorite visualization yet
Love the Glenn Gould uploads
Beautiful..
Yes! My favorite version of my favorite (well, 2nd favorite) Beethoven piano work!
what's your favourite?
@obonyxiam The 2nd movement of Opus 111
Seems that in this and other late works, that Ludwig found peace at the end of a long, difficult tumultuous life.
unbelievable - gould at his best (imho)
You have to wonder if Beethoven wasn't just itching to cut loose with a few thunderous chords somewhere in here. :)
Thanks Stephen, have a nice weekend! Greetings from Frankfurt am Main - Andreas
The kindest thing one can say about this is that the fine visuals constitute a very humane effort to revitalize an otherwise plodding and dreary rendition. The overall effect is rather more 'Dante' than 'andante'. I had to follow with a 'Brendel-seltzer' for relief.
i thought this was an inredibly romantic and hartfelt, intimate recording, but then i read glenn gould. It's incredible how our presuppositions about eccentric personalities can influence our enjoyment of great art.
To me, this interpretation sounds almost improvisatory, the way i conceptualize many of beethovens bagatelles
I don't know what you are talking about. Yet another of millions of TH-cam comments that employ every rhetorical device they can to express that they simply didn't get what a rendition was about
@d.macrae461 ... I'd read through this piece (along with the other opus 126 bagatelles) several times over the years, but it never made a strong impression on me, and when I first heard this performance by Gould, I didn't even recognize it. But I knew I had to make a video of it. I'm sorry you can't enjoy it as much as I do.
I'm really torn here.
On the one hand, this cannot possibly be how Beethoven intended that piece to sound. If it were, he wouldn't have indicated "Andante". Andante does NOT mean slow; only amateurs think that it does. I agree with you on that.
On the other hand, I reject the notion that a piece has to be played how the composer intended it. It's nice and interesting when it's done that way; it's also nice and interesting when it's being transformed, appropriated and assimilated for different tastes and styles. When a composer publishes something, he forfeits any say over how it is to be performed. If he wants it to be played only the way he envisioned it, he should keep it unpublished and perform it himself, or have it performed by his trusted disciples. And once a composer is dead, all bets are off anyway, because dead people have no rights. I'm a big advocate of historically informed practice, and I prefer it over all others, but I acknowledge that that's just my personal taste, and others should not play historically informed because they have to, but because they want to - if they want to.
In that light, Gould was perfectly justified to turn this Bagatelle by Beethoven into a Bagatelle based on Beethoven. It gave us a new perspective of that piece, and - if nothing else - something to talk about. It can't be denied that his rendition infused a degree of suspense and emotional depth into the piece, that other renditions lack.
But then again, it also infused Gould's peculiar, brutish, even vulgar tone quality. Gould had great musicality, but poor taste. His tone, while expressive, is not beautiful. Does music have to be beautiful? No. There is room for violence, vulgarity, depravity, dryness, comedy, severity, coldness, and much more in music. But when a piece is endowed by the composer with a great potential for beauty, I think it's a missed opportunity when the performer won't capitalise on it.
By the way, people often make the mistake of conflating emotional depth with beauty. These two concepts are not contingent on each other. A composition can be beautiful, or it can be moving, or both, or neither. And of course the rendition of a composition can be altogether different in that regard. Gould has always excelled at infusing emotional depth into pieces that inherently contain very little of it. For some reason, he never seemed to be able to achieve that without pouring grotesque articulations, out-of-tune humming and grunting, and freakish arpeggios all over the piece.
To me, this recording tastes like delicious Viennese cake with American processed cheese on the side. I'm grateful for the experience, I even enjoyed it for its novelty, I was even deeply moved by it, I'm happy that it exists, I even consider it to be great. But I feel no desire to listen to it again.
Also, @smalin's visualisation is once again exquisite.
@ what does slow mean? What did slow mean to Beethoven?
How fast is the walk of an andante? The only way to truly know the tempo a composer intended is the metronome - which Beethoven championed.
What we can be sure of, is that the meaning of allegro, presto, adagio etc changed rapidly over a short duration of time. Already between Haydn and mozart, the meaning of allegro was transformed.
So whether prestissimo means “as quickly as possible” or “as quickly as good taste would allow” and whether andante means “as quickly as the strides of a reasonable person walking” or “slowly moving forward” is not obvious at all, and up to the sensibilities of the artist - or the metronome mark.