Óbidos, 8 July 2024
Xavier Rivera
The small medieval town of Óbidos, in Portugal, which preserves its entire wall and a considerable part of its castle intact, hosts, in addition to its cheerful tourists, several cultural activities, the most prominent being the International Piano Week (SIPO), active since 1996. Many pianists have participated in this initiative through a “masterclass” format, cherished by Alfred Brendel, in which students present their interpretations successively to different renowned artists. This format, a true luxury, seeks to avoid the dogmatism that a traditional lecture might induce and allows young performers to reflect on the various criteria that can honestly serve a single musical composition. Among the illustrious names who have attended these courses are Paul Badura-Skoda (a regular until his final days…), Dmitri Bashirov, Helena Costa, Jörg Demus, Vitaly Margulis, Luíz de Moura Castro, Mikhaïl Pethukov, Pierre Réach, Boris Bloch, Boris Berman, Josep Colom, Artur Pizarro, Eugen Indjic. In short, the crème de la crème of pianists from the 20th and 21st centuries.
The lessons are interspersed with performances by the professors, and yesterday we had the privilege of attending one by Manuela Gouveia, the artistic director and guiding spirit of this essential initiative.
Sharing with her illustrious Portuguese elder, Maria João Pires, a frail, discreet appearance tinged with humility, Gouveia immediately contradicts this with the emotional intensity of her performance. But while Pires charms us with her magical phrasing and emotional flashes, Gouveia begins by clearly and lucidly sketching out the structural lines, only to later bombard us with the most diverse questions: why this surprising modulation, why this bold counterpoint, why this incisive accentuation? All this in a richness of colours and a captivating sound that transforms the piano into a myriad of varied instruments, of diverse and vibrant voices. Her programme also included works suggesting enigma and compositional speculation.
Starting with Haydn’s “Variations in F Major,” written when the composer discovered the English piano makers Longman & Broderip and Broadwood, whose rich resonances anticipated the Romantic piano in contrast to the mechanical lightness and airy sound of Viennese pianos, the sound unfolded in waves of uncommon richness, with declamation of exquisite clarity and transparency. This was followed by Arnold Schoenberg’s “Six Piano Pieces, op. 19,” written in 1913, seeking to avoid any “pathos.” The pianist transported us through six condensed states of mind: from a piercing cry to a brief moment of happiness, passing through restrained but no less intense lyrical effusions.
This constant dialogue with the composers’ thoughts and the questioning of interpretative convictions – or conventions – allowed us to hear well-worn pieces anew, as if they were brilliant improvisations. Echoes of the qualities and creativity of Beethoven’s improvisations were unmistakable. Yesterday, Gouveia herself seemed to improvise, such was the freedom she achieved as a performer. Listening to her in the variations of the Sonata op. 109, I could not help but recall Thomas Mann’s brilliant description in “Doktor Faustus” of Beethoven’s opus 111 variations, which lead the listener to a state where dream and reality blend, and imagination knows no bounds.
Bartók’s “Suite op. 14” concluded an unforgettable evening. Written in 1916, during World War I, it also seeks to avoid the excesses of post-Romanticism through exuberant rhythmic and melodic imagination. Bartók claimed the work contained no folkloric elements, despite the important research he was conducting at the time. Among his works, this was the one he most willingly performed in concert. Gouveia once again confirmed the inexhaustible richness of her expressive palette. An evening that could be summarised as the most sincere confession of an unparalleled musician.