Heavenly lengths, rushed fences: Jonathan Biss steps in with Schubert at Koerner Hall

There must be a special place in heaven for pianists who step in for their indisposed colleagues and save the day. Bonus karma, too, for those who preserve at least part of the original programme, as Jonathan Biss did here at Koerner Hall. The American’s all-Schubert recital retained Schubert’s Piano Sonata in B flat major, D.960 planned for the second half of Stephen Kovacevich’s programme and added its monumental companion piece in A major for the first. Biss is no stranger to these works, to which he has been drawn through his fascination with composers’ late styles. Yet his current schedule suggests that his focus has shifted toward Beethoven. Reviving Schubert in this context showed genuine respect for the Toronto audience — and the hall responded with warmth and goodwill.

The concert itself was an uneasy affair, perhaps revealing that these sonatas – supremely demanding interpretively, yet also full of technical challenges – are not as fully under Biss’ fingers as they might be. Faster passages suffered especially from a lack of finish. The gabbled, rushed triplets in the opening pages of the A major sonata could be attributed to nerves settling, but the same breathless approach soon became a hallmark of the entire programme. One fast passage after another dissolved into spasmodic sketchiness, with detail smudged and phrase endings often inaudible. Nor did Biss sound entirely at home with the instrument; its warm, rounded tone lacked proper definition, and cantabile passages needed fuller projection. Peculiar flicks of the left hand made one wonder whether he was shaking off a strain or injury. 

In these circumstances it was difficult to hear past the surface and concentrate on the interpretation. There were, undoubtedly, moments of beauty. Biss’ programme notes – a stream of consciousness linking the two sonatas to the stages of grief – revealed a deeply personal connection. This was most evident in the slower sections: languorously poetic in the A major’s first movement, almost suspended in the stillness of the B flat’s slow movement, though its extreme slowness was hard to reconcile with Schubert’s Andante marking. Most other tempi were fluid, even fleeting – as in the Scherzo of the B flat – which certainly helped with a sense of structural continuity. The Scherzo of the A major was perceptively voiced, while the finale movingly traced an inner journey, its final theme sounding poignantly remote. Notwithstanding minor derailments, Biss remained sensitive to the mercurial mood shifts of the B flat’s finale.

Unwelcome mobile ringtones fractured the hushed atmosphere of the A major’s second movement, although they almost justified the music’s subsequent outburst of fury, so astonishingly disruptive for 1828, so palpably enraged at the dying of the light. Biss, now on faculty at the Glenn Gould School of Music, will likely return to Koerner Hall before too long, hopefully in more settled form.