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A double SACD from the English record label Divine Art released a few months ago allows us to get to know a German pianist better, Burkard Schliessmann, one of the best and most interesting international pianists of the last few decades, given that in our country his name still circulates almost exclusively among piano music enthusiasts. These two SACDs were recorded live between 3 and 5 April 2023, when the pianist from Aschaffenburg held two concerts at the Fazioli Concert Hall in Sacile, performing pages by Bach, Chopin, Mendelssohn and Schumann, thus putting into play an interpretative compendium with a precise common thread, which can be summarized in the concept of the emergence, through the Kantor, and the progressive concretization of the tonal language and its supreme pianistic affirmation through that triad of romantic geniuses, as the Bavarian interpreter himself wanted to highlight in the accompanying notes in the booklet in three languages ​​(Italian is obviously missing) hosted in the elegant box set.

The anthology of pieces presented during these concerts in Sacile are extremely interesting and decidedly demanding: in the order of the playlist of the two SACDs we have respectively Bach’s Partita No. 2 in C minor, BWV 826, the Concerto Italiano, BWV 971 and the Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue in D minor, BWV 903, while by Mendelssohn Schliessmann presents a rarely performed piece, namely the nineteen Variations sérieuses, Op. 54, which bring the first disc to a close; on the second disc, however, we have Schumann’s Fantasy in C major, Op. 17 and Chopin’s Waltz in C sharp minor, Op. 64 No. 2, with the addition of two encores, both again by Schumann, the twelfth piece of Carnaval, Op. 9, entitled Chopin, and the third of the eight Fantasiestücke, Op. 12, namely Warum? (for a total duration of the two SACDs of almost ninety-four minutes).

What is meant by “partita”? Well, at the time of the Kantor this term, which was originally used for a series of variations performed above a bass, was by now completely analogous to that of “suite”; therefore, it indicated a series of dances introduced by a piece of an improvisational nature which, in Bach’s six for harpsichord, is called in turn prelude, symphony, overture, fantasy, praeambulum, toccata. The first partita dates back to 1726 and from that moment the supreme genius from Eisenach composed one every year, to be precise on the occasion of the publishers’ fair which took place annually in Leipzig. Thus, in 1731 he brought together the six written partitas and published them as the first part of the so-called Klavierübung. The overture which opens the second partita consists, after the introductory chord, on which there is the indication “grave”, of a few adagio bars. An allemande, a Corrente, a Sarabande and a Rondeau follow. The last movement is truly unique, defined by Bach as a capriccio. The choice of this title is given by the fact that it is a piece free from the usual formal constraints and is made up of two parts, both repeated twice, with the imaginative theme of the first that reappears ingeniously reversed at the beginning of the second.

Another astonishing masterpiece is the Italian Concerto, in which Bach used the two manuals of the harpsichord to create a series of contrasts, clearly alluding to the type of compositional process developed by Antonio Vivaldi, as in the case of the theme of the ritornello that is treated in a contrapuntal way. Taking inspiration from the title of the piece, it can be said that the composition as a whole takes on the meaning of a keyboard reduction of an authentic orchestral work. The Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue, probably composed during Bach’s years in Cöthen from 1717 to 1723, is nothing short of a visionary work, looking far beyond its time in terms of formal construction, structure, character and musical language.

On an interpretative level, Burkard Schliessmann proves to be an atypical German artist, in the sense that his Bach is neither obsessively analytical, nor anchored to a performance dimension tied exclusively to the undeniable theological patina that such music expresses, but rather devoted to a vision that is closer to a Mediterranean esprit by way of a passionate jolt that feverishly runs through his reading, without however ever losing that indispensable discipline of touch and the relative mastery of the keyboard. Let me be clear, with this I do not mean to say that his is a “romantic” Bach, but it is certainly imbued with a sonic beauty, a nobility of timbre that makes the Kantor’s music flow with a heightened sense of purity, a shining crystal that shines from the first to the last note, as can be seen from how he tackles the Partita n. 2. Furthermore, the ability to grace the rhythmic progression of the Concerto Italiano, playing and introducing subtle nuances of timbre with the precise aim of highlighting the melodic (and therefore Italian) side of the work, almost transforming it into an operatic aria, that is, exalting its “cantabilità”, without considering how the Bavarian pianist manages to convey the veins of clear Venetian origin that run through the entire marvelous Andante, without the expressive tension decaying into mere and inappropriate sentimentality. On the contrary, in the Chromatic Fantasy Schliessmann aims, and succeeds, to bring out the brilliant harmonic dimension of the piece through an expressive clarity that never loses the drama of the piano gesture, involving the listener in this continuous and exhilarating ascent, in which the melodic development is the climbing stick.

A necessary premise must be made on the piece by Mendelssohn, the Variations sérieuses op. 54; composed in 1842, which since their appearance were considered one of the most virtuosic works in the piano literature of the time, capable of masterfully displaying the range of supreme piano technique through the process of variation. This is because each variation, in op. 54, is based on the other and develops from the harmonic and melodic energies of the previous variation, a sort of brilliant anticipation of what will be the so-called “development variation” developed by Arnold Schönberg. The title of the Mendelssohnian page itself, quite unusual at the time, should be understood and interpreted as a precise reaction by the Hamburg composer towards an acquired and consolidated musical practice of his time, one that imposed, in a certain sense, the creation of Variations brillantes, that is to say purely virtuosic fantasies on fashionable themes, often taken from operatic arias. On the contrary, with his op. 54, Mendelssohn presented a work that on the one hand seems oriented towards Beethoven’s Variations in C minor and, on the other, capable of anticipating Brahms’s subsequent style of virtuosic variation, in particular the Paganini Variations.

In his reading of this piano masterpiece from the mid-nineteenth century, Schliessmann not only demonstrates his perfect mastery of the keyboard, shaping the sound material imbued with astonishing technical difficulty, but also manages to express its moving musicality; his interpretative ability lies precisely in this: returning to the benefit of the listener those expressive tensions, in the alternation and development between slow and fast variations, which permeate the entire architectural arch of the work. Ultimately, the Bavarian pianist decodes the structure, making it accessible through a heartfelt exploratory alternation of the keyboard, bringing to the surface the shadows and lights that distinguish these variations.

On the second disc, Schliessmann further focuses his concert journey on harmonic development, inevitably arriving at Robert Schumann, whose work is represented here by the Fantasia in C major, Op. 17, together with the two encores, namely the twelfth piece of Carnaval, Op. 9, entitled Chopin, and the third of the eight Fantasiestücke, Op. 12, namely Warum?, and at Fryderyk Chopin with the Waltz in C sharp minor, Op. 64 no. 2. As for the composer from Zwickau, the Bavarian performer rightly points out how Schumann’s music represents a fixed point for two distinct reasons: the first is that his compositional inventiveness took him well beyond the harmonic progressions known up to his time, while the second is given by the fact that, in the wake of the Mendelssohnian Bach Renaissance, Schumann saw in the fugues and canons of the composers of the past a romantic principle. From this, he considered counterpoint, with its phantasmagorical interweaving of voices, a sort of correspondence between the mysterious relations between external phenomena and the human soul, between the transcendent and the immanent principle, trying, at the same time, to express this correspondence in complex musical terms, concentrating them above all on the keyboard of his beloved piano.

Precisely because of this search for sound application, capable of rendering the contest between external and internal forces at its best, Schumann had to face a not indifferent problem, that linked to the fact of presenting an adequate musical and intellectual substance within a large-scale piano form, that is, capable of hosting a complex sound material both in the harmonic and melodic sphere; and there is no doubt that this operation found its best result in the Fantasia op.17, which is rightly considered his most daring and ambitious piano work, in which the brilliant German composer poured all those romantic instances of Germanic imprint already outlined previously through the literary and poetic contribution given by authors such as Schlegel, Novalis, Eichendorff and Jean Paul.

In restoring it in concert, Burkard Schliessmann does not let himself be carried away, especially in the celebrated opening movement, by the enthusiasm generated and offered by the musical writing, but presents it in a fragmented, distilled way, investing it with the due mutations and psychological peculiarities, shaping with due attention the changing agogic, in a perennial symbolic balance between titanism and victimism. Triumph of a sentimentalism that already prefigures, as the Bavarian interpreter himself rightly notes in the accompanying notes, the figure of Wagner’s Tristan; hence a consequent and unavoidable problematicity given by the harmonic material that fully anticipates that dissonant sedimentation that will be fertile humus for Richard Wagner. And Schliessmann is equally convincing when he unravels the second movement in which the young Schumann introduces the visionary lesson of the last piano Beethoven, crafting harmonic daring capable of touching on timbric schizophrenia, bold jolts of modernity that only the passing of time allowed us to appreciate and admire rightly.

To conclude the Schumann chapter linked to this double SACD, as an encore the Bavarian interpreter has chosen two pieces capable of exalting the beauty, the aesthetic quality of his piano touch; so both Chopin and Warum? they transform into two diamonds that shine with a timbric light that Schliessmann knows how to dose as needed and that confirm that ultimately this pianist, like the great Walter Gieseking, is so little “Germanic” in terms of belonging to a piano school, making sure that the so-called “analytical” dimension in tackling a specific author can always be combined with a due patina of timbre, capable of giving beauty and feeling. This is perfectly demonstrated by his reading of Chopin’s Waltz, which strikes with its “sobish” phrasing, almost as if the Bavarian pianist had wanted, more than anything else, to bring out the emotional dimension that lies behind its formal purity. Therefore, a timbric research that behind the aesthetic aspect is not an end in itself, but becomes a tool to delve deeper, to dig, to reach the ultimate heart, that is, the pulsating element, the secret engine that makes everything move.

The live sound recording was done by Matteo Costa, who wanted to highlight both the instrument itself and the spatial dimension in which it was located. The starting point to obtain everything is given by the dynamics, which even if it does not strike for its energy, is however noted for its cleanliness and for a reassuring naturalness. Another parameter that is to be appreciated is that relating to the sound stage, which sees the Fazioli used by Schliessmann reconstructed at a due depth, so as to be able to also represent the spatial volume that is found around it. A lot of depth but, at the same time, also a lot of finesse in the focus of the piano, capable of expressing and radiating a sound that materializes in the surrounding space, a sound that is not lost at the same time that it invades both in terms of width and height. The German interpreter’s pianistic perlage is expertly re-proposed thanks to the effectiveness of the tonal balance, always perfectly discernible in the separation offered by the medium-low register of the keyboard and the high one, as well as the detail, although, as already explained, the piano is positioned at a notable depth, it does not appear to be deficient in terms of materiality and three-dimensionality.