Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791)
Sonata K.283 in G major
Allegro • Andante • Presto

This sonata comes from a set of six written for a Munich nobleman, Thaddeus von Dürnitz, during 1774 and 1775. Ease and playful high spirits prevail throughout, with little of the searching expression Mozart was to display in many of his later works. It shows a considerable gain in craftsmanship over his earliest sonatas. Arthur Hutchings points out that ‘the poetic vein of Mozart’s great music is obvious; what needs recognition is the growth of seemingly conventional details into exquisite paragraphs in music which we are foolish to depreciate from a supposition that what is perfect for the drawing-room would be better if it smelt of the schoolroom, church, theatre, or study.’ The first movement begins with an unassuming tune that grows into a sonata exposition with a sense of flow Mozart had only recently attained. The second belies its simplicity with an expressive poise that would not be out of place in certain arias written ten years later. The finale is a straightforward Italianate 3/8 movement with some pleasant textural surprises.

George Gershwin (1898-1937)
Three Preludes
Allegro ben ritmato e deciso
Andante con moto e poco rubato
Allegro ben ritmato e deciso

For much of his life George Gershwin sought to integrate the worlds of jazz and ‘classical’ music. These pieces are not jazz improvisations (in the sense of the transcriptions that have been published on behalf of nearly every jazz musician of note) but they do show something of the style of his own playing. Gershwin had intended to compose a set of twelve, a sort of jazz Wohltemperierte Clavier, but his unexpected death from a brain tumour at the age of 38 prevented this. At least seven survive (others may have ended up as songs), and this set of three, as published, form a satisfying unit. The first opens with a blue-note riff which forms the basis of the first theme. Contrasting material follows, making use of a distinctive repeated note figure, then the first idea reappears in a quasi-orchestral climax. The second prelude shows a curious kinship with Chopin’s A minor Prelude, with its eerie accompaniment and hypnotic melody. The third exploits a similar major/minor ambivalence, but dextrous syncopation gives it driving rhythmic energy.

Maurice Ravel (1875-1937)
Sonatine
Modéré
Mouvement de menuet
Animé

‘Doesn’t it occur to these people that I can be “artificial” by nature?’ Ravel once complained. A collector of antiques, especially clocks, he deliberately fostered an image of fastidiousness and reserve both as a man and as a musician. Nevertheless his music cultivates a subtle expressivity which is often curiously moving, at times out of all proportion to the restricted means employed. There is an elegance and structural clarity about the Sonatine that suggests a classical derivation (the first movement is a remarkably lucid sonata form), but there is also a certain harmonic ambivalence that is typically impressionistic. For the most part musical gestures are understated and intimate. In the first movement moments of uncertain stillness are interspersed with periods of shimmering beauty. Subtle colours are explored in the gently moving chords of the menuet, and a busy chromaticism alternating with harp-like glissandi maintains a continuous momentum throughout the final movement.

Frédéric Chopin (1810-1849)
Nocturnes Op.27 Nos.1 & 2

The two Nocturnes of Op.27 were clearly intended as a set, sharing the same keynote (C sharp / D flat) and featuring similar wide spread left hand arpeggios. Expressively, however, they are worlds apart. The first begins in a mood of uncompromising bleakness, its bare melody hovering uneasily between minor and major keys. A turbulent middle section follows, but its striking modulations and strenuous rhetoric only serve to return us to the opening material. This, however, is transformed by the appearance of a new idea in the major key, providing an unexpected (and extremely beautiful) coda. Op.27 No.1 is a long way from the sensuous and ornate writing for which Chopin is best known; No.2, by contrast, is one of the most popular of all his nocturnes. Its long, slow melody expands lazily, acquiring more and more exquisite ornamentation as it proceeds. Clearly indebted to the Italian stage for its operatic lyricism, this Nocturne is more than a transcription of an imaginary aria – it is a complete rethinking in pianistic terms of the expressive possibilities of vocal ornamentation.

Scherzo in Bb minor Op.31
Presto, sostenuto e piu lento

For Chopin the word scherzo had lost much of its original meaning of humour and playfulness. He seems to have derived his understanding of the genre from certain examples by Beethoven, a composer with whom he generally had little sympathy. Nevertheless, there is no one else whose music the opening material of this piece so much calls to mind, with its fragmentary nature and sudden contrasts of register. The main theme soon emerges, reminding one that Chopin was not just the deviser of exquisite tonal and harmonic effects, but a real virtuoso as well; as a contemporary put it, his hands could ‘suddenly expand and cover a third of the keyboard. It was like the opening of the mouth of a serpent about to swallow a rabbit whole.’ A second, quieter passage follows in which chorale-like phrases alternate with a delicately ornamented melody, but this too is soon whipped up into a pianistic storm, leading to a return of the opening. The piece closes in the major key, but minor inflections are present almost to the end.