MUZIO CLEMENTI: Sonata Op. 31, No. 1, in A Major; Sonata No. 3, in G Major; Sonata Op. 27, No. 2; Sonata No. 2, in B-Flat Major – Sang Mi Chung, p. – Centaur

MUZIO CLEMENTI: Sonata Op. 31, No. 1, in A Major; Sonata Op. 33, No. 3, in G Major; Sonata Op. 27, No. 2, in F-Sharp Minor; Sonata Op. 47, No. 2, in B-Flat Major – Sang Mi Chung, piano – Centaur CRC 3035 [Distrib. by Naxos], 55:50 *****:

It’s good to see the music of Muzio Clementi getting something like its due these days. Not that he didn’t have his advocates in the earlier modern era, including the great Vladimir Horowitz—can’t get any better advocacy than that. But in the 80s and 90s, Clementi’s complete orchestral works were recorded, showing him to be an accomplished, even important symphonist, and pianists started to record whole opus numbers rather than just random groups of sonatas, resulting in a better understanding of Clementi’s growth as a piano composer.
The most valuable such project is unfolding right now, with Howard Shelley engaged in recording the complete sonatas for Hyperion. That traversal will be a boon for students and Clementi completists alike, but if you want to sample some of the best of Clementi without breaking the bank or stuffing your CD rack, Sang Mi Chung’s collection of four mature sonatas is a fine place to start.
The pianist begins with Op. 31, No. 1 (misidentified on the packaging as Op. 36, No. 1, which is instead one of Clementi’s famous sonatinas). Published in 1794, it contains just two fast movements and is a juggernaut of a sonata, with a wide range of dynamics, including the frequent use of the sforzando-piano marking, which adds to the overall feeling of restless energy. The young Beethoven must have learned a thing or two from this and others of Clementi’s recent sonatas as he embarked on his own sonata-writing career; his first work in the form would appear the following year.
The next sonata, Op. 33, No. 3, is by far the biggest on the disc, at over twenty minutes twice the length of Op. 31, No. 1. The reason for its length is easily explainable: it’s a transcribed piano concerto. As such, its character is very different—stately, maybe even a little pompous, leisurely in its unfolding. It’s just as attractive in its different way as Op. 31, No. 1, but the level of interest is harder to sustain over this greater length. Chung manages to do so, as throughout her program, by careful attention to dynamics and phrasing. Clementi is thought to be founder of the school of legato piano playing, and the students who matriculated in this school were a virtual Who’s Who among the next generation of pianists: Field, Hummel, Czerny, Moscheles, Kalkbrenner. So elegant, sustained legato playing such as Chung provides here is de rigueur.
Clementi’s minor-key sonatas may not be the heaven-storming affairs that Beethoven’s are, but Op. 26, No. 2, is a taunt, darkly expressive drama that recalls music’s Sturm und Drang period. It’s Clementi’s only sonata in F-sharp minor, and he rolled a lot of emotive energy into this one work, a favorite with performers and listeners alike.
Compared to this sonata, Op. 47, No. 2, of 1821 is more classically restrained but of such bustling good humor with its rapid runs, big trills, and long crescendos that it stands as a worthy summation of Clementi’s achievement. It’s a fine way to end a recital, especially when played with such sympathy and technical skill as Chung brings to the work. Excellent, truthful piano sound as well, making this a very recommendable recording.
-Lee Passarella