Johannes Brahms: Three intermezzi, Opus 117
Sylvie Sagot-Duvauroux: Piano
Last week, after two late school nights on Monday and Tuesday, I took the not only prudent but necessary steps to go back to a more reasonable bedtime schedule on Wednesday and Thursday, so that on Friday I would be back in decent shape to attend yet another one of the countless concerts going on around Dieulefit, in this case the piano recital by Sylvie Sagot-Duvauroux in nearby Comps’ small but eye-popping église Saint-Pierre-et-Saint-Paul (Church of Saint-Peter and Saint-Paul).
The 12th-century Romanesque church has in fact earned the “Historic Monument” label because of its significance to France’s historical and cultural heritage, the exhaustive restoration it underwent a while ago having further brought out its elegant architecture and a few unique details. Add to that its priceless setting on top of a hill and surrounded by some of Drôme Provençale’s most bucolic countryside, and you have a landmark worthy of a detour, even a guided tour, with or without the occasional musical bonus.
The bonus was included last Friday evening though, at the blessed hour of 6:00 PM, with intrepid pianist Sylvie Sagot-Duvauroux, brought to us by the indefatigable Comps Historique association. Since founding the E il piano va company about two decades ago, Sagot-Duvauroux has tirelessly taken her “migratory” 1928 Bechstein quarter grand piano to the most unlikely places, including prisons, hospitals and Emmaüs communities, to spread the word about the joys of live music to frequently uninitiated crowds.
On Friday, it certainly looked like her advocacy work was cut out for her as the church quickly filled up to capacity and then some with eager music lovers, including a few familiar faces, who had come from far and wide, and very early for some of them. Fact is, the first come, first served and pay-what-you-can rules that were enforced for the occasion often prove to be strong incentives for people to show up in order to take advantage of a good bargain and a good seat. And sure enough, they all came.
The advertised program included Chopin and Brahms, but once we had sat down and checked the leaflet, my mom and I gathered that it would be an all-Brahms feast, and I for one was not the least disappointed (No offense to Chopin). The first piece on the program was the Piano Sonata No. 3 in F Minor he wrote at the young age of 20, still under the mighty influence of Beethoven. It is a stupendously sprawling five-movement score that relies on classical structure while also exuding free-flowing romanticism; it also incidentally turned him into a bona fide star.
Brahms’ biggest solo piano work, and last piano sonata, is epic, bold, and overflowing with myriad ideas and sounds, in which one can easily detect the effervescence of the promising youth and the depth of the born perfectionist. On Friday, as soon as Sagot-Duvauroux started to play after her short introduction, we realized that we were in for a treat, and that the treat would be resonating in our ears for quite some time considering our proximity to the piano. That said, once we had decided to make the most of it by surrendering to the immersive aspect of the experience, the rest was magic.
After having received a well-deserved ovation and imparted another enlightening introduction, Sagot-Duvauroux turned her attention to a smaller but no less exciting composition by a mature Brahms this time, with his Three intermezzi, Opus 117. As contemplative as the piano sonata had been lively, these three “lullabies for his sorrows” were all composed with his dear Clara Schumann in mind, and still stand as poignant testimonies of their nearly forty years of love and friendship.
Staunchly respectful of the triptych’s musical quality and personal context, Sagot-Duvauroux delivered a dainty performance that subtly emphasized each piece’s delicate lyricism and haunting darkness, exquisitely evoking passing time and looming twilight, and maybe a few regrets. Who would have thought grumpy old Brahms was partial to so much introspection? It is a tough order to bring a large audience packed in a small space to complete silence, but that’s just what happened on that evening in the little church on the little hill.
As the audience exploded in vigorous applause and maintained it, Sagot-Duvauroux eventually came back with, not Brahms, which might have been too predictable, but a classic among classics of the Baroque repertoire, a piano version of Johann Sebastian Bach’s Air on a G String. A memorable parting gift for a memorable concert, so much so that afterwards Sagot-Duvauroux herself gently pointed out that nothing more could be played no matter how insistent we were. And rightly so.
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