By subtitling his Schumann recital, 'On the Shoulders of Giants.' thirty-six-year-old Italian pianist Marco Mantovani stresses Schumann's reverence for the past—notably for Bach, Beethoven and Schubert-- and the pressing need for originality. This dual concern cost the composer dearly as he struggled to pay tribute yet look to the future.
Mantovani's accompanying essay makes such duality clear. More importantly, his performances vividly resolve Schumann's turbulent, ultra-romantic mood swings from ecstasy to despair. And among his many admirers, that supreme artist Maria Pires extols her discovery of 'a great talent, wonderful musicality and wishing to understand music in a deep way.'
And how her words ring true in the Fantasie, surely Schumann's greatest keyboard work, inspired by a joy in creation if also by pain when separated from his beloved Clara. Writing to her he spoke of the first movement as 'possibly the most passionate I have ever written, a deep lament for you.' Originally the Fantasie's three movements were headed 'Ruins,' 'Triumphal March' and 'Starry Crown' before settling for a more sober final title.
Throughout, Mantovani's playing soars above the leger lines capturing the very essence of the composer who once claimed, with a tragic prophecy, 'sometimes I think I could sing myself to death.'. He takes a surprisingly steady hand to the central march, where the dotted rhythms owe so much to Beethoven's opus 101 Sonata. Yet if a degree of impetus is lost and the playing is less 'sempre energico' than from others there is unfailing poetry and mastery in the coda's notorious skips, the so-called 'locus classicus of the wrong note.
The finale was once described as 'like so much shifting sunset vapour,' and here Mantovani complements the volatility of his opening movement with all of his inwardness and warmth.
In the Davidsbundlertanze he underlines the opening alternation of assertion and question, the crazed ebullience of 6,(very much the sort of writing that caused Clara Schumann to fear for the safety of her husband's reputation). He has all the tears and laughter, the 'frisch' of 8, while in 7 you don't have to be told that Schumann is among his deepest loves.
There are, of course, many outstanding recordings of both these masterpieces. In the Fantasie there is Kempff, Pollini, Richter and perhaps most of all Martha Argerich, her performance flashing with alternating poetry and summer lightening. In the Davidsbundertanze there is Cortot, simultaneously inaccurate(the skips of 12 defeat him) and beguiling. Kempff again and also Murray Perahi at the start of his career. Alas, there is no recording by Radu Lupu whose Queen Elizabeth Hall performance some years ago left an indelible impression.
Yet even in such exalted company Marco Mantovani's devotion to his cause shines out. To say that he understands Schumann would be to deal in understatement.
Bryce Morrison