LDV93

23 But in that case, what feeling does the freshness of the sonata’s Scherzo inspire in you? In this recording, I play it slower than usual and in the spirit of an angel dance with a certain reserve, seeking the purity of a Kinderszene , shimmering between the keys of B flat minor and major. Schubert looks once again upon everything that Vienna denied him. The waltz that’s implied by playing it this way seems to wound him like a knife. A poisonous Viennese waltz, ‘à la Max Ophüls’, insistent even in the echoes of the note G. Two outbursts occur (F minor), then a series of dazzling unisons between sections of technical passagework that are diabolically difficult to get right in concert: they place the performer in danger because the composer himself is in danger. Then, lo and behold, a whirlwind of joy, of happiness, almost. Schubert knows that it’s all over. Once or twice I have allowed myself to make use of the extended compass of our modern pianos, which Schubert’s fortepiano did not possess, but which he was obviously aiming for. In truth, nothing is improvised in Schubert. Sometimes he gives the illusion of improvisation, pulls the wool over our eyes. Everything is ‘orchestrated’ without ever reaching a climax, for he must constantly postpone the inevitable, gain time. Only the Faustian finale with its galloping theme and its syncopations in the left hand ends the Wanderer’s race to the abyss. JEAN-MARC LUISADA