
Johann Franz Xaver Sterkel (1750-1817)
Symphony in E-flat, Op. 11, No. 3 (1774)
Piano Concerto No. 4 in C, Op. 26, No. 3 (1786)
Symphony in C, Op. 11, No. 2 (1774)
Nataša Veljković (piano)
Southwest German Chamber Orchestra, Pforzheim/Johannes Moesus
rec. 2023, Johanneshaus, Öschelbronn, Germany
cpo 555 639-2 [67]
Over the years, I’ve reviewed a number of second- and third-tier Classical composers here, frequently in chamber music; the scores are well-wrought, but, with the weaker practitioners, the content can seem threadbare. Johann Franz Xaver Sterkel, originally trained as a pianist and organist, was a popular composer and performer of his own day. His scores have their shortcomings, but never do they come off as threadbare or insubstantial.
The piano concerto, at thirty-seven minutes, is longer than any of Mozart’s; indeed, its seventeen-minute first movement is longer than its two discmates combined. As you might guess, that length reflects Sterkel’s major weakness: an uncertain command of structure. The movements’ forms are clear, but each, while consistently pleasing, goes on one episode too long – something that never happens in Mozart or Haydn.
The opening Allegro offers a full double ritornello – once around each for orchestra and soloist – with extensions tacked onto some passages. Linear passagework, reminiscent of the middle Mozart concerti, dominates the exposition. The development, arpeggiating diminished-seventh chords like mad, veers into minor-key drama, though Sterkel lets the harmonies stray too far from home, requiring an abrupt jerk into the recap. A dignified chorale begins the Largo cantabile; the orchestra joins the piano to reinforce the cadence – in a flat-sixth chord! – and they pass phrases back and forth in a disturbed minore. The Presto rondo starts out conventionally bright and bustling, although what feels like it should be the theme’s “last return,” once again, ducks into the minor for a bit.
Veljković’s piano tone, even but nondescript at the start, gains in variety as she addresses the rippling scales and cascading arpeggios with limpid, fluent articulations, and with bright, shiny trills in her own cadenza. Similarly, her Largo lacks emotional and tonal depth until the piano embellishes the cantilena. Moesus and the Pforzheim orchestra provide rhythmically alert, precisely balanced support – but what is all this, in the booklet, about “the wind instruments [being] silent” specifically in the Largo? I didn’t hear them at all in this score, unless, perhaps, a few supporting horns are buried amid the string-based textures.
According to the booklet, the two brief three-movement symphonies, like the concerto, were composed in Paris. They do have some of the sparkle associated with Haydn’s Paris Symphonies – but I’m hearing more of Mannheim in their lively rhythmic energy, with bustling inner-string tremolos frequently propelling the music forward. There are even some impressive crescendo effects in the C Major; the elegant reprise of that symphony’s central Andante, and the E-flat’s rollicking Prestissimo finale, are particular highlights.
This was one of my more enjoyable Classical explorations. Try it.
Stephen Francis Vasta
stevedisque.wordpress.com/blog
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