by Klaus WYBORNY
1979-2010 / color / sound / 1S / 73' 00
The film begins with a visualization of Beethoven's Piano Sonata No. 32 in C minor, Op. 111, and Wyborny nearly misses the first movement. Yes, the « savage and bare fire » (Kaiser) of this tempestuous last piece of Beethoven nearly tears him apart. He who, while the aggressive Allegro explodes (when the sonata has begun to spread out with a deliberately « false » address in the old French overture rhythm), gets wrapped up in every pause and every peak; he who absolutely wants to work on these dialectical poles of tension in the finest agogic gradations, to shape the contrasts of the tempo in an angular way, will be torn apart. Wyborny escapes from the abyss, Beethoven would have done the same in an emergency, improvising on his own. Many spectators probably did not notice the drama. Others noticed it, were shocked, pulled themselves together, took a breath - and then were overwhelmed by the ingenious solution.
In the second movement, the slowness, the miracle of the Arietta must take place. It is even more difficult to perform than the first one. Like a nursery rhyme, this simple song flows from Wyborny's fingers and flows through his tableaux. Very bright, very light. Not too slow, not too fast, no secrets, no whispering. Just a song. Landing in time and condensing from variation to variation, without losing the childlike gaze nor being taken aback by the secular calm.
Much has already been written about this melody and its supernatural aberrations, its swing, its tinnitus, its stops and its willful lack of finish: by Thomas Mann, Igor Stravinsky and Milan Kundera, and all this very precisely, truthfully, and so on. And yet, we have to forget everything when the music overtakes us again. For about twenty minutes: then it stops again brilliantly and lightly, the pianist drenched, all of us in tears. - E.B. in Standard
|distribution format||Digital file on server (PAL)|
|screen||4/3 (single screen)|
|rental fee||215,00 €|