Another one of the multiple misfortunes that carries the wars caused that the pianist Paul Wittgenstein losted his right arm during the World War I; far from thinking finished as musician, Wittgenstein decided to continue his career as concertist comissioning multitude of works to composers of different renown and level, among them Richard Strauss, Benjamin Britten, Sergei Prokoffiev or Maurice Ravel. In the same way, Erich Wolfgang Korngold acceded to compose for him his Klavierkonzert in Cis, op.17, a magnificent work in one movement that Wittgenstein premiered in Vienna in 1924, and the Suite, op.23 for piano, two violins and violoncello premiered, also in Vienna, in 1930. The personal situation of his author, always so important in the creative process, was well different in both works: on the first performance of the Concerto op.17 Korngold is in the summit of his reputation, with his wonderful opera Die Tote Stadt, op.12 still in full boiling and popularity throughout Austria and Germany; in 1930 all was different, and the "failure" of the also magnificent opera Das Wunder der Heliane, op.20 in 1927 had carried him to a certain creative and mental pot-hole. Wittgenstein's new assignment surprised him in the middle of a series of Johann Strauss' operetta arrangements that, even though were reporting him money and tranquility, on the other hand were separating him increasingly from the public recognition; perhaps because of that, this Suite did not reach the wished success, what has maintained it hidden during too many years, in spite that it is actually a delicious to listening work. Structured in five movements of clarifying titles, the Suite is dyed of a sad and somber air very stressed in the two slow movements (the second, Walzer, with its scarcely happy and old-fashioned tone, and the fourth, Lied, that includes one of those wonderful and passionate melodies typical of his author); chromatically lightly and structurally simpler than its previous chamber works, its recovery permits to complete a basic period in Korngold's career.Less interesting is the work by Franz Schmidt, another forgotten composer whose work moves between a late romanticism and the evident inheritance of the works of Brahms and Bruckner; Wittgenstein went to him in repeated occasions, and this Klavierquintett in G-Dur of 1926, the first of their chamber collaborations, is a musically agreeable work, though scarcely surprising and creative. Of first category is the performance from the quintet of musicians that intervene, with the veteran Leon Fleisher at the head and the ubiquitous Yo-Yo Ma as reference. Balanced and clean sound record, as always is Sony's.
