Mitsuko Uchida, piano
Mandel Concert Hall
Severance Music Center
Cleveland, OH
February 26, 2023

Beethoven: Piano Sonata No. 30 in E major, Op. 109
Beethoven: Piano Sonata No. 31 in A flat major, Op. 110
Beethoven: Piano Sonata No. 32 in C minor, Op. 111

After seeing the stage of Severance Hall filled to the brim the night before for an opulent Strauss tone poem, it was quite a contrast to enter Sunday afternoon to the sight of a lone grand piano. A welcome sight to be sure, however, the setting for one of Cleveland’s most cherished musical guests to offer the next installment of this season’s piano series. This is the always remarkable Mitsuko Uchida, presenting perhaps the weightiest of all solo piano programs: the final three piano sonatas of Beethoven – and a fitting follow-up to her 2019 program of Schubert sonatas on the same stage.

The bright E major of op. 109 opened graciously and generously lyrical, soon to be contrasted by the rhythmic snap and punch of the Prestissimo. A noble, expansive set of variations closed the work, with the singing theme showing the notoriously stormy composer wholly at peace with the world. Uchida did much to bring out the distinct character and nuance of each variation, and it was quite striking how much musical ground was traversed in a mere six variations. A fugue surfaced in the fifth variation, a signal of the importance of the form to this sonata trilogy and to late Beethoven more broadly speaking.

Thought certainly worthy of applause, Uchida requested the audience to withhold following op. 109 – a directive not followed, and it seemed to take her some time to get back in the zone. Once she did, op. 110 opened in amber warmth, and a sublimely songful melody decorated by fleeting arabesques given with utter weightlessness. I was reminded of Evgeny Kissin’s performance of the sonata on his program here last April. A fiery scherzo followed, sharply accented.

Thus far, the work very closely mirrored its predecessor. The Adagio ma non troppo that followed served as something of a spiritual contemplation – with a longing melody of deepest tenderness – as if the composer was pondering what direction to go next. A fugal finale then broke through, clearly the destination all along. Uchida cut through the counterpoint with exacting clarity, though in no way sacrificing its wondrous musicality.

Op. 111 was certainly worthy of occupying the entire second half. Many pianists will play the opening octaves with both hands instead of the left hand alone as Beethoven notated, but Uchida respected that wish as the composer wasn’t one to create technical challenges without valid musical reasons. Arresting beginnings plunged us into the darkness of C minor, with Uchida unrelenting in weight and power, and even more so in the penetrating, unforgiving fugato.

There’s few things in the repertoire more calming than the opening gesture of the Airietta, an Everest in of itself. There was entrancing purity in the simplicity of the theme, though rhythmic complexities amassed on the note-spattered pages – and while the virtuosity was there in spades, it always took a backseat, in service of the composer, not the pianist. Only Beethoven could make something as seemingly mundane as a trill, the mere oscillation of two consecutive pitches, sound so utterly transcendent. The climax of the movement pushed towards an even higher spiritual plane, only to a retreat to a direct, unadorned final statement to close this spellbinding performance.