In recent years, Antoine Reicha’s piano music has attracted considerable interest from performers and scholars alike. While Reicha (1770–1836) is well known for his wind quintets, he also wrote numerous string quartets and interesting chamber music, which still await rediscovery.Footnote ¹ His piano music is special, however, as this genre best reflects Reicha’s multi-disciplinary approach as a music theorist, pedagogue and composer. Many of his piano works represent some theoretical topic or structural problem to be solved by practical performance. For his own interest, Reicha both reconsidered traditional genres by adding ‘modern’ structural features, and established new genres by compositional experiment and pedagogical exploration. Among the former category we find his extensive collections of piano fugues and variation sets, while the latter category is best represented by his etudes, various types of ‘example compositions’ and character pieces that came with ample theoretical descriptions of structural features, inventing the modern type of anthologies for theoretical studies. From this perspective it is not surprising that pianists with theoretical, analytical, and musicological interests have been recently drawn to Reicha’s piano music, and the pianist of this series of piano music recordings, Henrik Löwenmark, fits this description perfectly. Löwenmark has published and presented musicological essays about Reicha’s piano music,Footnote ² and he provides very detailed historical and analytical liner notes for this series. This series thus provides a well-balanced platform from which to get acquainted with Reicha’s musical, pedagogical and theoretical thinking.

A search for recordings of Reicha’s piano music reveals some interesting patterns. First, it is surprising that this series does not include the most famous compositions, discussed in a variety of analytical contexts: one would expect, for example, the 36 fugues, first published in 1804, as well as L’art de varier,op. 57, which was released at the same time, when Reicha resided in Vienna between 1803 and 1808. None of these are included in this ‘Complete Piano Music’ –series in its current state. For the 36 fugues one must consult Ivan Illić’s recording in the second volume of the Reicha Rediscovered series by Chandos, which also includes the Etudes dans le genre fugué, op. 97, or Tiny Wirts’s rendition of the 36 fugues for the CPO label (CPO 2013). The Art de varier was also recorded by Illić (Reicha Rediscovered, vol. 3) and by Mauro Masala (Dynamic 2000) to name a few. Thus, one suspects that Löwenmark either chose to focus exclusively on hitherto unknown piano pieces, or that he will release the mentioned signature pieces in later volumes of this series, as the five available volumes do not even remotely cover Reicha’s extensive corpus of Complete Piano Music as the title implies.

A lot of ink has been spilled about the relationship between Beethoven and Reicha, as we have some few mentions of Reicha in Beethoven’s correspondence which are less than favourable, while Reicha avoids the mentioning of Beethoven in his theory treatises altogether. Beethoven denies any quality in Reicha’s 36 fugues as they breach the traditional rules of fugue composition by using remote modulations, strange metres and, most notably, a classical phrase structure. On the other hand, it is possible that Beethoven knew and studied Reicha’s compositional output during this time period, and that this study influenced Beethoven’s approach to fugue episodes in his later piano sonatas and the composition of variations. While this remains speculative, due to the lack of source evidence, it is strange that the two men, who knew each other from their youth in Bonn, playing together in the court orchestra, and maintaining a friendship there, had no significant contact during Reicha’s stay in Vienna.Footnote ³

It would be unfair to compare Reicha’s piano music with Beethoven’s magnificent piano works, since they fulfil very different purposes: While Beethoven’s piano music was meant for the virtuoso, Reicha was not a performing pianist and wrote his piano music mostly as study examples for his extensive theory and piano teaching during his early years in Hamburg, Paris and Vienna, before permanently settling in Paris in 1808. Unlike the virtuosic piano music by contemporaries, such as Dussek, Clementi or Hummel, Reicha’s piano works mostly functioned as specimens of ‘scientific research’ as Reicha expressed his early studies in music, but also in mathematics, philosophy and the sciences, as he describes it in his autobiography.Footnote ⁴ Developing his reputation as a theorist and teacher, during the first decade of his residence in Paris, was his main ambition. And this ambition is not focused on brilliant compositions but on his teaching and the treatises he published in French. When he composed, he had his calling as a pedagogue in mind, as represented by his wind quintets that were written for his colleagues (and partially former students), as well as some piano music that explicitly reflect his ambitions to become a counterpoint professor: the Études dans le genre fugué, Op. 97 (La fugue et le contrepoint, 34 études de fugues et contrepoint) were written during the three years before his appointment as professor of counterpoint at the Paris Conservatoire in 1818.

Still, the collection Löwenmark presents is far from irrelevant. The pieces presented on the three CDs available to the reviewer provide a fascinating insight into Reicha’s diverse compositional approach. Volume 2 contains two works, the collection of Six fugues, op. 81, which was published around 1810 but composed much earlier, and the Étude de piano ou 57 variations sur un même theme suivies d’un Rondeau, op. 102, published around 1824. Volume 3 contains a Rondeau as well as the Études ou exercises, op. 30 and a Fantaisie sur un theme de Frescobaldi, all works most likely written during his Hamburg period in the 1790s and his first Paris period around 1800. The fifth volume combines a mixture of character pieces, including a march, variations, fantasies and a fugue, mostly written during his early years around 1800 and the early years of his Paris period after 1808. It is impossible to date Reicha’s works correctly, and the occasionally known publication dates do not reliably indicate the period of composition. A lot of research remains to be done to identify the exact origin of Reicha’s works. One can only determine that many works originated during his experimental phase in Hamburg (1793–99), his first Paris period (1799–1802) and predominantly during his Viennese period (1803–08). During his second Paris period from 1808 on he was mostly focused on writing treatises, while composition was limited to examples for his later treatises and occasional composition for this students and his colleagues of the Conservatoire. This situation is even more confused by the discrepancy between publication dates and the related opus numbers. It seems that he published earlier works after a decade or more in Paris, at a time when his reputation allowed him to get accepted by publishers. Opus numbers are somewhat random. The opus numbers up to 62, a violin sonata published in Leipzig in 1808, are mostly in consecutive order, but the next known opus number is 81, assigned to the Six fugues, published by Pleyel in Paris in 1810. From there, we have consecutive numbers up to 107, a quintet for oboe or clarinet and string quartet, published in 1829. One must suspect that many piano works with higher opus numbers still belong to his early period. Further obscuring is the fact that there is no reliable indication of stylistic development in Reicha’s music. One might even observe a reverse progress: his earlier works tend to be more experimental and ‘modern’ in the sense of compositional exploration and instructive demonstration, whereas later works from Paris represent examples of a style more related to the common practice of Viennese style from around the turn of the century or salon-style music in a more simplistic manner.

The Six fugues, op. 81, to be found in volume 2 of this series bear this stylistic ambiguity. While they are more conservative than the 36 fugues regarding metres and harmonic progression, they still show specific pedagogical features. The second fugue has extensive syncopations and sequential elements that indicate Reicha’s interest in motivic development. A good example of this is also the third fugue, starting with an octave leap and a subject that goes through various procedures of motivic and particularly rhythmic development. Its final section sounds more like a classical piano sonata than a fugue. Reicha’s obsession with fugue composition, complicated contrapuntal combination and rhythmic variations is present throughout this collection.

The other work of volume 2, the Variations, op. 102, are a good example of Reicha’s synthesis of both compositional and pianistic variety. This quite virtuosic work, based on a simple 10-bar Gavotte from Grétry’s opera Panurge dans l’île de Lanternes (1785) truly surprises with breathtaking scales, inspired use of the extreme ranges of the instrument, and rhythmic vitality in the variations. In addition, the composer indicates a subtle use of the pedal in the score, and very distinct pianistic articulation in some of the variations. The titles of some variations, such as ‘La Bizarre’, ‘Folies d’Espagne’, or ‘Pastorale’ invoke the then-new genre of character pieces for piano, another aspect of compositional practice that originated with Reicha’s inventiveness. The ‘bizarre’ structure of the variation of this name refers to a number of elements: he keeps the 10-bar basic phrase but obscures its (usually 4+4+2-measure) units by unexpected rhythmic contrast that seem confused: a hasty motive with two demisemiquavers and a semiquaver is followed by a lengthy cadential appoggiatura in minims and crotchets with rests in between that further confuse the beginning and end of the phrases. In addition, the piece starts in E minor, modulates to G minor and ends on an open, inconclusive Eb Major sixth chord which connects harmonically to the following variation, played ‘attacca’ by the pianist. Occasionally, the length of the variation is extended, thus in the ‘Pastorale’ which contains 20 bars, with a phrase structure that is much more complex than the original theme. Its harmonic structure refers to common practices of the pastorale, such as weak cadential rounding, but juxtaposes various tonal centres (G major, E minor and B minor as well as D major) in an unusual way, which gives this variation an individual character beyond being just a variation on a theme. In sum, this piece indicates his capacity for inspired, playful and at times humorous approaches to piano instruction, as this work is dedicated to a ‘Madame Marchoux’, one of his piano students or sponsors during his early years in Paris.Footnote ⁵ Published around 1824 it was most likely composed between 1810 and 1818. A surprising element is the number of variations on the theme. These are short, as most of them use just the 10-bar form of the Gavotte without repetitions, contributing to the larger scale of variety. But why 57 variations? The composer was interested in numerology, and ‘57’ represents the chromatic scale of 5 (chromatic) +7 (diatonic) tones. Even the opus number might indicate his playful handling of numbers, as 10+2 also adds up to the chromatic scale. This alone would probably be an overinterpretation; however, he uses the same numerology for his large-sale piano work L’Art de varier, which contains 57 variations as well, and carries the opus number 57. The pianist mentions in his liner notes, that it is surprising that op. 102 has not been discussed in literature at all (despite being available in a modern edition), compared to op. 57, which follows the same pattern of experimental motivic variation and character composition as its later relative.Footnote ⁶ Löwenmark provides an in-depth analysis that is worth reading and makes it even more exciting to explore this unique piece in its entirety.

This set of variations provides a good opportunity to discuss Löwenmark’s performance style since it contains a wide variety of expressive, virtuosic and at times challenging articulation. The pianist treats this variety with superb technical skill and a deep understanding for the stylistic features of Reicha’s music. He dissects contrapuntal complexity with analytical transparency. Each variation receives subtle attention, and the dynamic range of Löwenmark’s interpretation is impressive. This can be seen with the often indicated ‘forte’ vs. ‘piano’ phrases that Löwenmark articulates clearly without exaggerating the dynamic contrast. Some sections are marked ‘jeu celeste’ (for instance in variations 16 and 17) for which Löwenmark applies the una corda pedal, but one would hope for a more subtle damping, as it was typical for the period instruments by Érard. The pianist makes the best out of it, given that he performs on a modern grand piano. The often-complex rhythmic combinations between right and left hand are performed with lucid exactness, again contributing to the analytical transparency of his playing beyond any technical limits. The sustain pedal is used with caution, which supports a clear articulation of the melodic lines. Adagio variations such as No. 19 are carefully carved out, as the melodic line contains subtle ornamentations against a chordal accompaniment. The expressive intensity of this texture is striking and very well mastered by the pianist. His attention to rhythmic details is impressive and fits perfectly the expressive range of the variations.

With the ‘Marcia’ (variation 21) a series of more complex and articulated character variations follow that provide another level of performance challenges. Löwenmark resolves these with ease and entertaining playfulness. Legato–staccato contrasts in variations 22 and 23 are meticulously articulated, as is the hemiolic ‘trick’ elaborated in the con fuoco variation 24. The pianist carefully pronounces rhythmic and metric irregularities, for instance also present in variation 25, ‘La Bizarre’, that show Reicha’s interest in challenging technical approaches.

A particularly striking combination are variations 38 and 39, the former called ‘Pastorale’, with a hint of Chopinesque expression, the latter a massive fortissimo ‘Tempête’ of Lisztian dimensions. Löwenmark’s performance of these variations shows the wide range of his stylistic flexibility in building breathtaking contrasts. While the ‘Pastorale’ remains subdued with its pianissimo and open-fifth bordun figurations, the following ‘Tempête’ erupts a massive fortissimo tour de force, then followed by a Schumannesque character piece called ‘Le Calme’. Löwenmark handles these contrasts with ease and convincing stylistic character. The variety of performative approaches in these 57 variations does not exhaust the pianist’s abilities in finding the right voice of each and every variation in this set that lasts a total of 43 minutes. It would not be complete without mentioning the final Rondo that concludes the variation set with a charming repetitive opening motive, followed by increasingly complex textures and striking modulations from G major to F major and B major. One can’t deny some stylistic reference to Beethoven in this piece, and Löwenmark’s performance again matches its character with phenomenal exactitude and creativity.

Volume three of this series contains another innovative cycle of Reicha’s piano music that has been ignored by researchers and performers alike: the Études ou exercices, op. 30. It marks the beginning of the explicit genre of the piano étude (although there were predecessors of the pedagogical piano piece with the purpose of practicing both pianistic technique and compositional flexibility), published even before Johann Baptist Cramer’s Étude pour le pianoforte en 42 exercices dans les différents tons of 1804. A foreword introduces Reicha’s intentions to implement a ‘manière nouvelle’ of piano music. A direct reference to Reicha’s earlier manuscripts on compositional and piano technique is obvious. Some of the Études of this collection are pieces that Reicha wrote for his Practische Beispiele (Hamburg, before 1797), which came with detailed explanations of the compositional intention of each piece (Philosophisch – practische Anmerkungen). It also reaches out to the famous collection of 36 fugues which in itself is a compilation of fugues from Practische Beispiele, and another publication from around 1800, the Douze fugues pour le piano, published in Paris. All these cycles, which are interconnected with each other, and published at various times and locations for the purpose of instructive creativity, contain introductions that explain various compositional and pianistic aspects of the respective collection. In the case of the Études ou exercices, the introduction explains the manière nouvelle represented by its approach to present scales, chords and other technical drills in a manner that keeps the pieces interesting and tasteful, beyond being mere technical drills. Statements about novelties and new approaches were common in contemporaneous publications to increase the interest by potential customers and this is the case here too. Reicha describes these etudes as a ‘continuation of the Piano Method of Citizens Adam and Lachnit’.Footnote ⁷ Besides the marketing aspect of this statement, the educational purpose is obvious and further outlined in the ensuing introduction where Reicha explains his intention: ‘Continuous exercise [of pianistic technique] is indispensable but, as demonstrated by elementary [piano] methods, it does not offer, taken separately, any attraction for the soul that is accustomed to more pleasant matters; it is necessary to find a method that makes them more interesting’.Footnote ⁸ This reveals a paradox that Löwenmark outlines in his liner notes (p. 8): ‘The collection is more than merely a variety of études in a technical sense; the compositional aspect is often as much in the foreground, even though the work is explicitly addressed to pianists. This paradox is one of many with Reicha: another is the contrast between his high ambition with regard to pianism and his absence from the public stage as pianist. The mixture of the technically simple and the conspicuously advanced is yet another; nor does there seem to be any organization in the degrees of difficulty of the pieces. It is more an assemblage that Reicha thought fit to be published in the framework of a collection of ‘etudes’.

This seemingly unorganized ‘assemblage’ does confirm Reicha’s empirical approach to compositional technique and theory. Others have stated that Reicha’s treatises show the same tendency for unorganized discussions of various problems rather than a consistent path from the simple to the complex.Footnote ⁹ However, it is obvious that the two ‘livres’ with ten pieces each are clearly organized by their technical and aesthetic value. The first book represents the technical aspect, presenting etudes on various scales, chords and cadences, whereas the second book focuses on character pieces, also with technical challenges, but more geared towards expression and form. It is in the second book that one finds the adoptions from the manuscript Practische Beispiele: etudes 2 and 3, an Allegro followed by an Andante, were Nos. 9 and 2; etudes 8 and 10 first appeared as Nos. 24 and 23 in the Practische Beispiele. It shows Reicha’s flexible approach regarding the use of preexisting material, especially from a manuscript that was never published during his lifetime.Footnote ¹⁰ Likewise, he adopted two fugues from the Practische Beispiele for another early publication, the Douze fugues, which were released around 1800 as well. And finally, he recycled these Douze fugues, along with the Fugue from the Études, op. 30 (second book, No. 9) in the 36 fugues from 1804, to name a few of these adoptions.Footnote ¹¹

It is thus not surprising that the Études, op. 30 follow the same stylistic prowess we can find in the Practische Beispiele, and the 36 fugues. The sequencing scale studies in the first book explore third relationships, chromaticism and enharmonic notation, explained in the introduction with additional music examples. The second book includes an Allegro in compound metre, 3/8 plus 2/8, reminiscent of the Allegro No.3 in the Practische Beispiele, which is related but more complex rhythmically. No. 2, the Andante from Practische Beispiele, is a tour de force of harmonic modulation that Reicha describes as a path going from the ‘unexpected to the unexpected’.Footnote ¹² There is a predominance of third relationships in this ongoing path (C to Ab, Bb to Db, C# to A, to name a few), all this in a very short piece. This tour de force of modulation is typical for Reicha’s piano music of his early period, between the Practische Beispiele and the 36 fugues. All these publications contain the expression of being composed in a ‘manière nouvelle’, which becomes most obvious in those pieces that employ the combined meter of 3/8 and 2/8. In all cases, Reicha spends a great deal of defending the beauty and aesthetic value of this ‘new invention’. For instance, in the Douze fugues (of which No. 7 is in this combined metre, adopted from the Practische Beispiele) he stresses that this combination of 3/8+2/8 is not to be confused with the unequal metre of 5/8 because of its regular motivic organization of odd and even measures. In the Études et exercices, Reicha insists that all critiques of this combined metre are refused by its ‘new and interesting effect’, which cannot be achieved by any other metre. At the same time, Reicha makes sure that his novelties do not dampen the achievements of the past, but that he sees himself as part of a tradition, particularly that of the fugue, providing new forms and ideas, and applying more freedom regarding motivic, rhythmic and harmonic treatments. According to Reicha, they do not disparage the achievements of Bach, Handel and other ‘famous composers’. With regard to the Études, op. 30, this recording demonstrates this relationship between tradition and novelties very well. The second book’s character pieces are inspired and well-balanced regarding their technical and expressive components. The first etude is the longest piece, an Adagio that could easily serve as the slow movement of a classical piano sonata. Likewise, the second etude is a rondo with extensive episodes, including a cadenza-like Adagio and a humoristic ending in the style of Haydn. It is significant that two etudes, the fourth one with its combined metre, and the seventh etude, a ‘harmonie’ with variations, have predecessors in the Practische Beispiele but are new compositions. Both are less radical in their rhythmic and harmonic structure but instead represent more of a ‘mainstream’ classical Viennese style. The eighth etude comes from Practische Beispiele, where it is positioned at the end. This etude is reminiscent of Bach’s preludes, particularly the C minor prelude from the first book of the Well-tempered Clavier, but in a short, capriccio-style form. The fugue of etude No.9 is an astounding amalgamation of baroque-style counterpoint with surprising, if not disturbing enharmonic modulations, very much in line with the 36 fugues, in which this fugue has been republished. This provides an opportunity to talk about Löwenmark’s performance of the many fugues contained in this series. As mentioned before, Löwenmark’s performance is throughout very transparent, almost analytical, without ignoring the expressive beauty of the pieces. With regard to the fugues, it is worth mentioning that his analytical performance style is particularly helpful in carving out thematic lines against countersubjects. Löwenmark’s understanding of Reicha’s compositional techniques becomes obvious with this performance style, articulating hierarchies of voices and their linear juxtaposition. A good example of the performative balance between transparency and expressiveness is the eighth etude. The tenth etude is an example for Reicha’s interest in notational and performative complexity. An Adagio, this piece is notated in four systems, two for each hand, with three different clefs (violin, alto, and bass) combining and interacting with contrapuntal and stunningly dissonant harmonic progressions. Löwenmark found appropriate words for the stylistic position of this piece: ‘The character is somber, subdued, almost lugubrious in a Lisztian way, the harmonic language somewhere between Bach and Berlioz, the tempo extremely slow and the design utterly original for the period’ (Liner notes, p. 16).

The Fantaisie sur un thême de Girolamo Frescobaldi that concludes volume 3 also belongs to Reicha’s early Parisian period, if not to the preceding Hamburg period. Reicha’s interest in thematic material by other composers is obvious in the 36 fugues where he uses subjects drawn from Mozart, Haydn, Bach, Scarlatti and Frescobaldi. This Fantaisie, however, remained in manuscript until recently.Footnote ¹³ The simple soggetto from a Ricercar by FrescobaldiFootnote ¹⁴ is used as a cantus firmus, with episodes in Reicha’s modern style, including far reaching harmonic modulations. Löwenmark sees parallels to Berlioz’s compositional style, and it is possible that Reicha used this manuscript in the counterpoint class he taught at the Conservatoire.Footnote ¹⁵

Volume 5 of this series consists of a collection of character pieces hitherto unknown, and without specific organization. The selection is subtle, though, as it represents a wide range of Reicha’s ideas, both from his early period so prominently present in Volume 3, and the later Parisian period. To this latter group belong three sets of variations, the Variations in E-flat major, op. 83, the Variations sur l’air Charmante Gabrielle, op. 85, and the Variations sur un theme de Gluck, op. 87, all dated 1815 but probably written some years earlier. They can be seen in the context of Reicha’s private piano teaching during the first decade of this time in Paris, starting in 1808, and as compositions for the salon, certainly motivated by the ambition to get established in the Parisian high society. Opus 83 is short and simple: an 8-bar theme is the foundation for inspired variations that employ a wide range of pianistic techniques, each barely 15 seconds long. The other two variation sets of this period are based on precomposed material: The air ‘Charmante Gabrielle’ was a famous melody of unknown origin, used by many French composers for variation sets. Reicha’s variations over this air, op 85, are again simple and straightforward, but with a higher level of pianistic virtuosity than op. 83, played by Löwenmark with an appropriate level of expression. Finally, the Variations sur un theme de Gluck, op. 87, on a ballet theme from Gluck’s opera Armide are more elaborated but still along the simple stylistic lines of the other two variation sets of that period, far from reaching the musical complexity of the earlier variations.

While it is impossible to discuss all pieces presented on these three CDs, this review would be incomplete without mentioning the two Fantasias included in Volume 5. They belong to another early publication, op. 31, printed in Paris in 1800, representing Reicha’s cumulative interest in theoretical problems. This opus is unique in its content: besides the two Fantasias it contains four tables of modulation, providing short and compressed examples modulating from C major and minor respectively to all major and minor keys. The two compositions then elaborate these demonstrations in a creative way. As the genre of the fantasia has an open, quasi-improvisational form the focus of these fantasias is on motivic elaboration, harmonic modulation and sequencing. The first of the two fantasias even made it into the collection of the 36 fugues, published four years later despite not being a fugue even in the most liberal sense. While starting out with contrapuntal responses the structure gets dense and more chord-oriented, with almost obsessive sequencing of the main subject in original form and its inversion. Since the subject is a sequence of diminished seventh chords, the harmonic treatment is ambiguous and constantly modulating which, according to Löwenmark, ‘accounts for the almost mystic quality and brooding character of this dark-colored piece’ (Liner notes, p. 6). He also states the resemblance of this subject to the main theme of Liszt’s Faust Symphony. The second Fantasy, an Allegro, is very much in contrast to the first, with its humoresque vitality that reminds both of Haydn and Beethoven’s Alla ingharese quasi un capriccio (‘The Rage over a Lost Penny’), as Löwenmark states.

These and the other pieces of volume 5 confirm Reicha’s immense creativity. Their exploration is rewarded with a better understanding of the stylistic breadth of piano music of the first two decades of the nineteenth century. Löwenmark’s excellent performance fits the characteristics of these quite diverse pieces, and his informative liner notes are valuable and meaningful resources for further studies of Reicha’s compositions and the underlying theoretical considerations.