Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No 31 in A flat, Op 110: a guide to the best recordings

Charles Timbrell
Friday, July 12, 2024

Beethoven’s penultimate piano sonata stands among the finest achievements of his later years. Charles Timbrell makes a personal selection from its substantial discography

The manuscript of Beethoven’s Piano Sonata, Op 110, is dated December 25, 1821
The manuscript of Beethoven’s Piano Sonata, Op 110, is dated December 25, 1821

Beethoven’s Op 110 has resonated with me for many years, ever since I taught it to myself as a teenager who was briefly without a teacher. The work stands out for the beauty of its passages of sustained lyricism, the clarity of its design and the profundity of its musical ideas. It is certainly one of Beethoven’s most personal creations. The Austrian pianist Jörg Demus has written:

The structure of Op 110 is too vast, and its message too rich, for it to be possible to convey it with simple words. So I suggest that we commit ourselves entirely to it and its twists and turns, from the state of innocence on the first pages to the conflicts, the suffering, the despair, and to the vigorous return of the Spirit. For this is where the simultaneously overwhelming and exhilarating power of Op 110 resides: the triumph of the Spirit.

What Demus is mainly describing is the progress of the third movement, with its many instructions and descriptive headings. It opens with a quiet recitative that includes an expressive effect called bebung (rapid stressed and unstressed repetitions of a single note), leading to a plaintive arioso dolente accompanied by quietly pulsating chords. This section is connected to a lyrical three-voice fugue built on rising fourths and in a faster tempo. The arioso idea then returns, but now marked perdendo le forze (losing strength) and including short, espressive rests in the melodic line. This leads to a fugue based on the inversion of the original subject and marked poi a poi nuovo vivente (gradually coming back to life). During this section Beethoven indicates that the una corda pedal should be gradually released while the original fugue subject is played poi a poi più moto. The climax of the movement is reached with strong, affirmative statements of the melody of the original fugue subject, ending the movement in triumphant, almost orchestral grandeur.

The autograph of Op 110 is dated December 25, 1821, which places its composition at the time of the Missa solemnis and just after the composer’s recovery from months of debilitating rheumatism and jaundice – a fact that makes Demus’s words seem all the more relevant. The first movement, in sonata form and marked Moderato cantabile molto espressivo, is full of lyrical ideas, requiring feather-light arpeggios, careful balancing of chords and a subtle variety of dynamics. The second movement may be viewed as a scherzo even though it is in duple metre and in a minor key. It provides a good contrast and features sudden changes of dynamics and hand positions. The third movement calls for a perfect legato, careful balances of voices and observance of Beethoven’s copious requirements – including 18 instructions regarding dynamics, tempo and pedalling in the first six bars alone!

Like many of Beethoven’s late works, the sonata was slow to enter the repertoire. Franz Liszt and his students were largely responsible for its emerging recognition. Liszt is known to have played Op 110 publicly at least twice and he taught it in several masterclasses. Some of his comments were passed on in the published recollections of Amy Fay, Carl Lachmund and August Göllerich. According to Fay, one day a student was playing part of Op 110 when ‘Liszt insisted on having it done in a particular way, and made him go back and repeat it over and over again. One line of it is particularly hard. Liszt made everyone in the class sit down and try it. Most of them failed.’

An early champion of Op 110 was Liszt’s student Hans von Bülow, who performed it many times from 1865, including on his tours of England and the United States. The number of other Liszt students who performed it constitutes a virtual who’s who, including Eugen d’Albert, Conrad Ansorge, Richard Burmeister, José Vianna da Motta, Amy Fay, Marie Jaëll, Rafael Joseffy, Karl Klindworth, Frederic Lamond, Alfred Reisenauer, Emil von Sauer and Józef Wieniawski.

By the turn of the century, Op 110 found its deserved high place among Beethoven’s most admired piano works. With hundreds of versions in the catalogue, I have limited the following discussion to 26 pianists who represent a diverse range of interpretations. It is necessarily a personal sampling, no doubt omitting several worthy accounts but hopefully providing readers with a guide for discovery.

EARLY RECORDINGS

The earliest recording was made in 1928 by the Scottish pianist Frederic Lamond, who studied with von Bülow and Liszt. The opening page is cleanly pedalled, rather fast and so straightforward that it sounds almost Mozartian. This direct approach also applies to both later movements. The arioso sections are cantabile but insufficiently dolente. The closing pages are nimble and clear, but Lamond’s playing seems too objective for this work, which is surprising for a pianist trained by two giants of the Romantic era.

The eminent Artur Schnabel chose Op 110 as the first Beethoven sonata to be recorded in his complete cycle. The first movement features a warm, singing tone and perfectly judged dynamics. The scherzo is very fast and clean and the arioso sections of the last movement are projected well, with fine attention to detail but not unduly ponderous. Although the fugues seem a bit too intense and pushed, the closing pages are quite grand.

Even better is the account by the great Swiss pianist Edwin Fischer. The first movement is very beautiful and the several themes always move along. The entire third movement is a success, from the slow recitative through the rich and flowing arioso sections. The second fugue begins pianissimo, arising out of the preceding slow arpeggio, making a touching effect. The poi a poi più moto and the simultaneous crescendo make for a particularly convincing arrival of the tempo primo.

Myra Hess’s 1953 recording of Beethoven’s Op 110 is one of the glories of the gramophone (photography: Granger / Bridgeman Images)


The recording by Myra Hess was the first one I owned and it has a special place in my affections. Everything about it sounds natural: the warm cantabile, smooth elisions, delicate arpeggios and judicious balances of chords. The scherzo is dynamic without being too fast or too loud. The third movement includes a perfect realisation of the bebung effect and a deep projection of the melody in the arioso sections, accompanied by a gentle ‘massaging’ of the supporting chords. The fugues are voiced with great care and the conclusion is strong without being forced.

Walter Gieseking displays his accustomed colouristic sense throughout the sonata, with a lovely cantabile opening, arpeggios as light as air and perfect balance of chords in the development section. The scherzo is fast and the trio light and nimble. The arioso sections are deeply felt, especially the second one, where the supporting chords are just barely audible and the melodies sing more dolente than they did the first time. The fugues contain moments of pastel-coloured beauty and the final pages are brilliant.

Solomon’s recording was made just months before a massive stroke ended his career. Already he was experiencing debilitating hand problems and, according to his biographer Bryan Crimp, the recording session did not go at all smoothly. Although there is little indication of this in the edited final recording, some of the melodic passages sound a bit thin and there are pedal blurs in the development. The left hand is a bit too strong during the second arioso and there are blurred moments in the second fugue. The closing pages are fast but not as grand as they could be.

FROM 1960 TO 1990

Flowing simplicity and warm sound characterise Wilhelm Kempff’s third recording. In the first movement he refreshingly resists the many opportunities for point-making, and the scherzo is also mild-mannered. The arioso and fugal sections are all just a bit fast for me. Kempff maintained that in his later years he tended to play fast music slower than he had previously, and slow music faster. That seems the case here and the result is rather bland, though not unmusical.

I heard Rudolf Serkin play Op 110 on two occasions and his 1971 recording from that period compares well with my memories. His deep cantabile style and fine part-playing in the first movement are memorable. The second movement is only moderately fast but features big dynamic contrasts. The arioso sections are strongly projected and the fugues move relatively leisurely, with exemplary voicing.

The French pianist Éric Heidsieck studied with Cortot and Kempff, and some of the latter’s influence may be heard here, as can some of the ideas he conveyed in a masterclass I heard him give in Paris. ‘Play the scherzo as though Beethoven is in a beer hall shouting “Another beer, bitte!”’ His tonal variety throughout is impressive but the tempo-changes within the first two movements are a bit disconcerting. The third movement, however, is a complete success – deep, espressivo and clearly voiced.

One of the finest recordings was made by the legendary Russian-Romanian pianist Youra Guller, a student of Isidor Philipp and a friend of such disparate figures as Casals, Einstein, Stravinsky, Piaf and Argerich. She paused her international career for several periods due to ill health and the two world wars, but whenever she made a comeback she was much acclaimed. At the age of 78 she recorded Op 110 with a visionary power in which each note, each phrase, each page leads inexorably to the next. The opening theme has perhaps never been played with such deep affection, ‘sculpted’ and without mannerism. The arioso sections are intense, strong and into the keys – stronger than Beethoven asks for but so riveting that I’m sure he would have admired them. The fugues are perfectly voiced and paced and the closing pages are magisterial.

Maurizio Pollini’s 1975 recording of Op 110 displays his legendary pianistic control (photography: Siegfried Lauterwasser/Bridgeman Images)


The late Maurizio Pollini’s recording of Beethoven’s last five sonatas received a 1977 Gramophone Award. His legendary control of dynamics, especially of subito piano indications, is apparent from the opening bars. Balances are perfect here and throughout, and the second theme is impassioned. The tempo picks up very slightly in the development section, and the small crescendos and diminuendos are in place. In the arioso sections he conveys emotion by an exact observation of dynamics rather than by the more usual rubato. My only reservation is that the fugues are a bit on the brisk side.

Annie Fischer’s recording is uneven. I like her flowing first movement and her sharp contrasts and nimble fingers in the scherzo. But her left-hand chords are too prominent in the arioso sections and the fugues are rather aggressive and contain pedal blurs. The ending is quite clangorous, again with an over-strong left hand.

Op 110 was Emil Gilels’s final recording and it is quite fine. The first movement is truly cantabile molto espressivo and the bold scherzo is not too fast. The arioso sections are deeply felt, especially the second one, and the balances and dynamics are well done. The perfectly voiced fugues are played meditatively, with the second one effectively beginning pianissimo. I only wish that the final pages were more conclusive.

Claudio Arrau’s tempo for the first movement is slow and at times ponderous. But his scrupulous control of dynamics is admirable, especially in the third movement. Though beautifully shaped, the fugues are a bit too fast for me. Near the end, the meno allegro bars get too fast too soon, robbing the sense of arrival at the tempo primo.

FROM 1990 TO THE PRESENT

Of Sviatoslav Richter’s 11 available live recordings, possibly the best is from a recital in Ludwigsburg in 1991. The first movement is warm and always forward-moving, with light and gentle arpeggios and perfect balances. He adopts an unusually deliberate tempo for the second movement, but it works and it makes the trio section sound less glib than is sometimes the case. The third movement is a total success, with arioso melodies of great purity and dignity and a sure architectural sense in the fugues, with fortissimos that are not just loud but mighty declamations. The closing pages are magisterial and cumulative.

Stephen Kovacevich exhibits many of the qualities of his great teacher, Myra Hess: warm tone, careful balances and a completely natural approach without point-making. I would like to hear more dynamic nuances in the development section, but the arioso passages are played very expressively and the tempo of the fugues – somewhere between andante and allegro – gives them a distinctly noble quality. The final pages are paced unusually well.

Heart and brain are well matched by Alfred Brendel, with a lovely first movement and a brisk scherzo. Details in the recitative and arioso passages are scrupulously observed without bogging down the motion, and the fugues are perfectly voiced and paced.

Hélène Grimaud plays with utter naturalness, the first movement truly cantabile molto espressivo and always moving forwards. The scherzo is not unduly fast and the dynamics are well contrasted. The recitative moves along in a somewhat freer style than usual and the dynamics in the fugues are very well judged.

Beethoven has played a central role in the life of Daniel Barenboim, beginning when he performed the 32 sonatas in public as a teenager. His marvellous live performance of the cycle in Berlin in 2005 (issued on DVD – 8/07) was preceded by numerous recordings, of which his 1983 account of Op 110 is a standout. Not surprisingly, it reveals a conductor’s keen ear for balances, colour, line and form. Fine as the first two movements are, the third is riveting, with a second arioso slower and more intense than the first, fugues that can’t be played better and final pages that are paced and voiced magnificently.

Mitsuko Uchida’s recording has some fine moments along with some overdone left-hand passages, thin melodic projection and exaggerated fortes. Clearly it is a deeply felt interpretation, but to me it seems curiously unsettled.

Paul Lewis also has fine moments. I like the way he begins the arpeggios in the first movement just slightly under tempo, making them grow out of the previous bars. The scherzo contains violent contrasts and over-pedalling, and the arioso sections seem a bit perfunctory. The fugues are well paced and the conclusion is strong.

The Russian fortepianist Alexei Lubimov recorded on an 1828 instrument by Alois Graff (not to be confused with another fortepiano maker, Conrad Graf). The sound is distinctive in each of its registers: flutey in the treble, reedy in the middle and cello-like in the bass. These qualities are notably clear in the first movement’s wide arpeggios and in the development section. The recitative, with its bebung and una corda, is also full of sonic revelations. Balances are ideal in the arioso sections and the voices in the fugues are also usually distinct. It is an enthralling interpretation.

Igor Levit’s touch is nuanced throughout and the scherzo is less aggressive than some. The third movement is full of fine details that don’t call attention to themselves, with flowing arioso sections that are perfectly balanced and fugues that never sound static or academic.

Steven Osborne projects the opening page beautifully, with subtly differentiated textural changes and discreet pedalling. Variations of touch abound and he always makes the music sound fresh. The second arioso is properly internalised and touchingly dolente, but the closing pages are a bit of a let-down, too fast and too loud to be really exultant.

The Beethoven credentials of Korean pianist Sunwook Kim are impressive, including recordings of the sonatas Opp 13, 53, 57 and 106. The first movement of Op 110 features feather-light arpeggios and the perfect pacing and voicing that one would expect from this trained conductor. The arioso sections are thoughtful, with welcome audible rests. Voices flow freely and with individuality in the fugues, and the final pages build to a wonderful climactic statement.

I like the suggestive way German pianist Daniel Heide eases into the opening bars of Op 110 as well as his careful observance of espressivo markings here and later in the movement. The tempo of the scherzo seems perfect but I would have liked better observance of the subito piano indications in the trio section. The first arioso is gripping and its varied return includes poignant audible rests where indicated. The second fugue effectively begins a bit under tempo and is perfectly paced thereafter, culminating triumphantly.

It is difficult to make top choices among so many excellent accounts, and still others that space does not permit mentioning. But there are six that I would not want to be without: those by Barenboim, Gieseking, Guller, Heide, Hess and Kim. Forced to pick one, I would choose Myra Hess.

THE TOP CHOICE

Myra Hess (APR)

Op 110 was a central work in Myra Hess’s repertoire and her beauty of tone, inward poetry and utter naturalness are as notable today as they were in 1953, when this recording was made. It has truly stood the test of time and is even finer than the illuminating video version she made a year later.

THE PERIOD CHOICE

Alexei Lubimov (Zig-Zag Territoires)

Alexei Lubimov and his wonderfully restored and warm-sounding Alois Graff fortepiano are a perfect match. Together they reveal the sound that the deaf Beethoven must have imagined.

THE CLASSICIST

Walter Gieseking (Warner Classics)

Intelligence, poise, natural technique, translucent tone and sense of proportion are the ‘classic’ attributes of Walter Gieseking’s refreshing recording from 1956, the year of his death.

THE HISTORIC CHOICE

Edwin Fischer (Philips)

Edwin Fischer’s recording contains revelations without point-making, and it is both engaged and engaging. It eclipses other early accounts, even that of his great contemporary Artur Schnabel.


This article originally appeared in the August 2024 issue of Gramophone. Never miss an issue of the world's leading classical music magazine – subscribe to Gramophone today

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