The Sunday afternoon event in the smallish Zankel Hall, a joint recital with clarinetist and composer Jörg Widmann, was Dame Mitsuko Uchida’s second appearance at Carnegie Hall over the course of just several days. Surprisingly, she included in the program the same Widmann composition – Sonatina facile – that she played a couple of days earlier in her solo recital in the Stern Auditorium. Dedicated to Uchida and premiered earlier this year, Sonatina facile is one of Widman’s paraphrases – in the Lisztian, transformational sense – on Classical and Romantic opuses. On this occasion, he was inspired by Mozart’s remarkable Piano Sonata in C major, K.545. In a compressed work, he kept the overall Allegro – Andante – Rondo structure of the original but, in fact, the rhythmical pulse is all over the place. The composer mixed freely direct Mozartean quotes with other musical thoughts that can sound at times classical, dissonantly modern or just as “pleasant” fillers. Uchida played the piece with charm, lightness, and as much ironical perspective one can expect from such an introverted artist.
Widmann is a composer whose body of work has an enormous span, from small instrumental miniatures to full scale operas. Like the oeuvre of some of his visual artist compatriots, from Gerhard Richter and Isa Genzken to Wolfgang Tillmans, Widmann’s “post-modernism” is very difficult to categorize. Freed from allegiance to any kind of orthodoxy, he has produced an extremely eclectic output. His other piece on this program, the older Fantasie for Solo Clarinet (1993) sounds somehow like a surrealist exquisite corpse with the music flowing freely from one motif to the next. It allowed the composer-interpreter to display his phenomenal technique, the incredible dynamic range he can extract from his clarinet.
A program mixing duets and solos started with the Sonata in F minor, Op.120, no. 1, one of the pair of sonatas Brahms wrote late in his career, inspired by the exceptional interpretative gifts of Richard Mühlfeld. Brahms’ days of Romantic Schwung are past. Gone are the soaring melodies, the Hungarian rhythms. Instead, there is a widespread melancholy. The many unresolved dissonances and sparse textures refer back to the late piano pieces but are also forward looking, to the music of the Second Viennese School. As they did during the entire performance, Widmann and Uchida worked as a true partnership rather than a soloist and his accompanist. Their sound balance was close to ideal and the way they anticipated each other’s attacks was outstanding, especially so in the final Vivace.