Ludwig van Beethoven

Le Regard Libre N° 68 - Jean-David Ponci

In the wake of Beethoven, we have already discussed the three giants of the 19th century, Wagner, Liszt and Berlioz, who could also be called the bulldozers of Romanticism. Progressive and innovative in the extreme, they hardly fit the idea of the meditative, fragile Romantic artist. It's time to make way for the «introverts» of the time, who were giants in another way. Schubert has already been mentioned, but there's still Chopin, Brahms and above all Schumann. Even today, it's hard to know what was going on with Schumann's madness and his love for Clara. In the face of a life shrouded in lies by those closest to him, he has left us a body of work that shouts out the truth, masterpieces of sensitivity that make him the most passionate of romantics, or perhaps even the most romantic of romantics.

Le Regard Libre N° 67 - Jean-David Ponci

Five years ago, Neuchâtel Conservatoire piano teachers Raphaël Colin and Emile Willemin set out to perform Beethoven's Great Fugue, transcribed for piano four-hands. This work was composed in 1825 as the sixth and final movement of the String Quartet No. 13. When Beethoven was told that only the second and fourth movements had been bisected, he flew into a memorable rage: «Ah, the oxen! Ah, the donkeys! They're having them served up again! Why not the fugue? That alone should have been re-enacted.» Following the lukewarm reception of the Grande Fugue, the publisher Artaria persuaded Beethoven to publish it in a version for piano four hands. The composer asked Anton Halm to make the transcription. Halm's work did not satisfy Beethoven, and so he made the