Beethoven: Triple Concerto in C, Opus 56
by Stephen Cera
The essential concept of the concerto genre is to contrast the individual (soloist) with the crowd (orchestra). Concertos featuring a solo instrument or small group of instruments with an orchestra began to be composed in the Baroque era. The Classical masters (notably Mozart and Beethoven) raised the concerto form to unprecedented heights: Mozart with no fewer than 27 piano concertos, several of them amongst his masterpieces, and Beethoven with his seven wonderful concertos, five for piano, one for violin, and one for the combination of piano, violin and cello (the Triple Concerto).
The Triple Concerto is distinctive in a few ways. Historically, it is the first in which the piano is one of a group of solo concerto instruments (though there was some precedent in Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto No. 5, which has a harpsichord as one of the solo instruments.) The piece is a kind of successor to the concept of “sinfonia concertante” which arose earlier in the Classical era, and reached a peak in Haydn’s superb work for violin, cello, oboe and bassoon. The Triple Concerto also happens to be the closest Beethoven ever came to writing a cello concerto. Haydn, his great Classical predecessor and mentor, wrote two cello concertos which are not among his masterpieces, and Mozart wrote no cello concerto. Beethoven himself never wrote a solo cello concerto, but the Triple Concerto comes close, and gives an idea of what might have been.
In fact, the cello is the preeminent solo instrument in Beethoven’s Triple Concerto, the one which appears first in all three movements, and introduces the main themes in each. The cello line calls for a full-fledged virtuoso who can handle the technically demanding part.
I’ve always considered the Triple Concerto to be an under-rated work of Beethoven, the “black sheep” of Beethoven’s seven concertos. (It was the fourth of the seven to be composed, coming between the Third and Fourth piano concertos, and before the Violin Concerto.)
It was no easy task for the composer to incorporate no fewer than three solo instruments into a classical concerto form, and Beethoven’s solution was to expand the structure to spacious dimensions, permitting the piece to unfold at a comparatively leisurely pace in order to provide scope for each solo instrument. It is an ingenious composition, one with no real precedent or even successor.
There has been some discussion as to whether this concerto is realized most effectively with three soloists who have strong and distinct personalities (such as Barenboim, Anne-Sophie Mutter and Yo-Yo Ma, who performed and recorded the work), or with a more homogenous, seasoned piano trio such as the Beaux Arts who regularly played together and musically “breathed” as one. Either can succeed, of course, and there are advantages to either.
This performance was given at a house concert, with the orchestral part transcribed for piano and performed very convincingly here by Ben Smith. The three soloists are all instrumental thoroughbreds: pianist Vadym Kholodenko, winner of the Van Cliburn International Competition in 2013; violinist Alena Baeva, winner of the International Henryk Wieniawski Competition at age 16, who, like Kholodenko, has soloed with many world-renowned orchestras and conductors; and the young Korean cellist Hayoung Choi, winner of the Gold Medal in the Queen Elisabeth Competition in Brussels, Belgium, in 2022. I was familiar with the playing of Kholodenko and Baeva, but a most exciting discovery was the playing of Hayoung Choi. She shined in the demanding solo cello part, playing with tremendous energy, boldness and command.
From their first joint passage, hear how the violin and cello match articulations (from 4:00), then in the first-movement development section, sparks are lit from 10:05 as the three soloists really listen to and respond to one other while exchanging motives that lead to the recapitulation. Beethoven wrote no cadenza, but Baeva’s smile near the end of the movement at 18:10 reflects her joy in the music being recreated.
In the brief but poetic slow movement (really an introduction to the Finale), after the concise orchestral introduction, Choi floats her opening phrase at 19:14 with melting lyricism. Then in the transition to the Finale listen to the two strings match their articulations, vibratos and dynamics to forge a magical link to the Finale. In the passage beginning around 28:38, note the swagger that Baeva brings to the Polonaise episode, and the way Choi picks up that quality and extends it. In the passage from 32:27, listen to the three soloists dovetail their collective easing of the tempo, breathing as a single unit. In the code of the Finale from 34:43, note the powerful soloistic flair of both violin and cello. The piano solo part is relatively more modest, yet Kholodenko attends carefully to details of ensemble cohesion with his string partners. Overall I find his playing more circumspect than theirs, and his Steinway B may also provide a bit less opportunity for dynamic and coloristic variety than the full-throated string instruments.
The performance is firmly anchored by Ben Smith’s rendition of the piano transcription of the orchestra part. In sum, the performers make a strong case for this undervalued composition, and I would like to hear them play it with a full orchestra.
The recorded sound achieves a fine balance both between the three soloists and with the orchestral piano, while providing an attractive overall patina of warmth.