I previously wrote about Daniel Barenboim’s masterclass lectures. This time, I would like to share another series introduced to me by my teacher—a set of lecture-recitals given by András Schiff at Wigmore Hall in London between 2004 and 2006.
All thirty-two of Beethoven’s piano sonatas are discussed there, and the audio recordings are freely available on the hall’s website. The fact that such valuable material is offered openly speaks to the generosity—and perhaps the cultural depth—of institutions in the United Kingdom. I imagine that many pianists study these lectures quietly on their own time.
And so, I too have begun listening to these lecture-recitals little by little.
I have never studied music formally, but after taking up sound production with a DAW later in life, I found myself drawn into its pleasures. Only recently have I begun to sense, even just a little, the deeper joy of listening into a work—of hearing how it is built, how it breathes, what it wishes to say.
Schiff’s way of speaking is fascinating.
He analyzes with the precision of a scholar, yet never sounds dry or academic. Instead, he seems to lift the composer’s voice gently from behind the notes, as if uncovering a quiet truth hidden in the score.
Barenboim’s masterclasses, on the other hand, open an entirely different world, even when he speaks about the same Beethoven. He grabs hold of each sound with astonishing sharpness, and questions flow one after another: How does that single note you just played need to change? Watching the sound transform right before your eyes is endlessly compelling.
Between the two of them, there seems to be a distance that is both obvious and profound—the distance between the work itself and its performance. Schiff illuminates the inner workings of the piece, while Barenboim shakes the very body that speaks through sound. For me, as someone engaged in sound creation, both represent essential lessons—and both remain worlds away.
Fortunately, my teacher, who is also a pianist, always reviews my MIDI entries. "Why is this note here?" "How does this phrase want to move?" Each time he poses such questions, new vistas I hadn't yet seen gradually unfold before me.
Perhaps it is precisely because I am not a specialist that this journey through sound can continue so slowly and so long. Today as well, following Schiff’s voice and recalling Barenboim’s insights, I find myself searching for that quiet light that lies somewhere behind Beethoven’s five lines.