BEETHOVEN Piano Sonatas Nos. 30–32. Kavatine (arr. Tausig) • Cristian Sandrin (pn) • EVIL PENGUIN 0068 (71:31)
When I’m reviewing a disc containing Beethoven’s final piano sonatas, I begin by looking at the accompanying notes. Christian Sandrin writes his own, which can be a foolhardy gesture if, frankly, the performer has little to say. Sandrin does point the way toward less commonly discussed details, like the folk songs in opus 110, but his commentary is more thoroughgoing than that. Fortunately, word and sound converge in a package fascinating and satisfying in equal measure.
Sandrin offers the final sonatas with a twist. He begins his essay by using a “Romantic” description of Beethoven’s 1820s pianism to illuminate the blurring of instrumental boundaries and the layers of expression exposed between the lines. The Romanian pianist adds the Cavatina movement from Beethoven’s op. 130 quartet in a transcription by Carl Tausig. In doing so, he draws attention to connections with the “arioso” section of op. 110’s third movement, and his pianism supports his ruminations. Similarly intriguing is the way he treats that section’s vocal melody and its chordal accompaniment. This is one of the most expressive versions I’ve heard, the melody and harmony in constant dynamic flux, unfolding in technicolor as the music wends its way toward the all-important G-Major chords. Yes, those increasingly incendiary sonorities are played with the requisite power, but similar energy is harnessed for everything preceding them and for the disc as a whole.
Sandrin is a player for whom the smallest gesture has extraordinary emotive import, often portrayed via gestures conjoining color and articulation. Check out the opening moments of op. 111, especially the left-hand octave on the first diminished chord. It anticipates slightly the rest of the sonority but in a naturally declamatory way, a hint of low-register spice. The same expressive device is used to even better effect at 0:27, rendering the gestures intensely orchestral. They also blur the lines between melody and harmony, so that the notion of song, or singing, becomes an issue larger than melody in its conventional sense. The hushed second-movement theme is almost unbearably poignant partially due to the attention paid to the bass, which ebbs and flows with remarkable fluidity. As might be anticipated, counterpoint comes off with grace and power, even when least expected, as in the first variation, where fluid notions of melody and harmony bring surprise, even to seasoned ears. Op. 109’s theme and variation movement fares similarly well, especially those variations with a bit of Bach in them, but the heights are truly scaled in that final variation as trill, chord, scale and arpeggio converge in anticipation of the theme’s return.
As superb as Sandrin’s sonatas are, the Tausig version of Beethoven’s “Cavatina” is the disc’s power nexus. All of the qualities with which Sandrin imbues the sonatas are distilled in this, one of Beethoven’s most gorgeous late-period movements in a transcription to match. While it is difficult to articulate what constitutes depth in a performance, so much of it involves space and spatial awareness. Listen as the melody rises and then suddenly descends to hear Sandrin’s take on space, silence and their articulation. As with everything else on offer here, he proves himself wise while never failing to accentuate an expressive moment. If the recording is slightly bass-heavy, it does little to dampen the ultimately joyful experience of listening to one of the finest Beethoven albums released this year.
by Marc Medwin
This article originally appeared in Issue 49:1 (Sept/Oct 2025) of Fanfare Magazine.