The absolute masterpiece in this collection of works for the left hand is the work of Johannes Brahms based on the Chaconne of Bach. Contrary to what many people believe, Brahms never described his work as a transcription but as a study for the left hand based on the Chaconne of Bach. In fact, Brahms only discovered the Chaconne at the age of 44, in 1877. In a letter to Clara Schumann, he wrote:
“The Chaconne is, in my opinion, one of the most wonderful and most incomprehensible pieces of music. Using the technique adapted to a small instrument, the man writes a whole world of the deepest thoughts and most powerful feelings. If I could picture myself writing, or even conceiving such a piece, I am certain that the extreme excitement and emotional tension would have driven me mad. If one has no supremely great violinist at hand, the most exquisite of joys is probably simply to let the Chaconne ring in one’s mind. But the piece certainly inspires one to occupy oneself with it somehow… There is only one way in which I can secure undiluted joy from the piece on a small and only appropriate scale, and that is when I play it with the left hand alone. The same difficulty, the nature of the technique, the rendering of the arpeggios—everything conspires to make me feel like a violinist!”
Hence the genesis of the Bach/Brahms Chaconne, Study for the Left Hand.
Before going further, a word about the origin of the Chaconne, Bach’s longest single instrumental work. Originally a lively dance from Latin America, the Chaconne entered Spanish culture in the sixteenth century. By the eighteenth century, it had become in Europe a slow triple-meter instrumental form. Obviously, Bach had not forgotten that it was originally a dance.
The Chaconne was composed between 1717 and 1720, reportedly in memory of his first wife, Maria Barbara, who died while he was away on a trip. In this monumental work Bach expresses a depth and variety of feelings rarely encountered in music. Brahms’ exuberant embrace of every note of Bach’s score is evident in his masterly study. This is not a transcription but a celebration of the highest order.
By transposing the score an octave lower, Brahms expands the range of the original while considerably enriching the pianistic possibilities. He also gives interpretive indications that are astute and effective, yet he respects the Baroque practices known in his time.
The Chaconne is a series of variations on a repeated chord progression. The connections between these variations make any interpretation of this realization of Bach’s Chaconne a supreme challenge.
Leopold Godowsky (1870–1938) was one of the world’s greatest pianists, held in the highest esteem by critics and public alike.
Astonishingly, he was largely self-taught. His greatest pride was his extraordinary technique, which even his most famous colleagues admired and envied. He was considered the “Buddha of the piano.” Arthur Rubinstein remarked that it would have taken him 500 years to acquire a technique like Godowsky’s. He was also an important pedagogue who taught in major institutions around the world (Berlin, Vienna, New York, etc.), before finally settling in New York after the First World War.
Godowsky was also a significant and innovative composer, notably for the piano. Ferruccio Busoni said that he and Godowsky were the only ones who had added anything of significance to keyboard writing since Franz Liszt.
He is best known for his transcriptions and paraphrases of other composers, works of diabolical difficulty. Even today, only the most intrepid pianists attempt to play them. His most famous work in this genre is his 53 Studies on Chopin Etudes. But he was also called the “King of the Left Hand,” having written many works exclusively for the left hand, including paraphrases and original compositions.
It is, however, in his original works that Godowsky truly shines as a great composer. Two of these are included here: the Elegy for the Left Hand (1929), one of the most poignant expressions of grief in music, and the exuberant Prelude on BACH.
The Gavotte en rondeau for solo violin is the third movement from the Third Partita in E major (BWV 1006), the last of a series of six sonatas and partitas (BWV 1001–1006) Bach composed around 1720. It is one of his most popular shorter works and has been transcribed for countless instruments, including the marimba!
Bach himself transcribed it for lute as a suite (BWV 1006a), which in turn inspired countless other versions, notably for guitar. The piano is no exception, and perhaps the most famous adaptation is Rachmaninov’s pastiche of the entire suite, still a favorite of some pianists today.
However, a transcription for the piano left hand alone is a rarity. Rafael Joseffy, a brilliant Hungarian pianist (1852–1915) and pupil of Liszt who settled in the United States, made a faithful piano transcription of the lute version of Bach, published in New York in 1888. This is the version used for this recording.
In 1892, at the age of 20, Scriabin injured his right hand (overuse syndrome) while practicing obsessively Liszt’s Réminiscences de Don Juan and Balakirev’s Islamey in fierce rivalry with his fellow student Josef Lhévinne at the Moscow Conservatory. He immediately turned to composition to vent his rage and wrote his First Sonata, op. 6, as a “cry against God and fate.”
He eventually recovered the use of his right hand, and although he went on to have a brilliant career as a concert pianist, he remained wary of it throughout his life.
In 1894, Scriabin made his debut as a concert pianist in St. Petersburg and, in the same year, composed the Prelude and Nocturne, op. 9, concentrating his virtuosity on his left hand.
Though he had small hands (barely spanning a ninth), he wrote works requiring a broad span, particularly for the left hand, as heard in these pieces.
Scriabin and Rachmaninov (who had very large hands) were classmates at the Moscow Conservatory. Their relationship throughout their careers was complex and sometimes contentious, but they remained close friends. Rachmaninov was a pallbearer at Scriabin’s funeral and played only Scriabin’s works in concert for a whole year after his death.
Scriabin was closer in style to Chopin in his early years, while Rachmaninov always venerated Tchaikovsky. The Prelude and Nocturne, op. 9, belong to the Romantic tradition that Rachmaninov always upheld, but Scriabin’s distinctive voice is already fully present. These two works remain among his loveliest and are perennial concert favorites.
Carl Reinecke (1824–1910) is one of those “forgotten” Romantic composers. Born in Denmark, he became one of the most influential musicians of his time. In 1843 he settled in Leipzig, where he was part of a circle that included Schumann, Mendelssohn, and Friedrich Wieck. Though initially a formidable violinist, he later became an equally formidable pianist and a sought-after professor of composition and piano at the Leipzig Conservatory. His students included Grieg, Janáček, and Albéniz. He was also a notable interpreter of Mozart piano Concerti of which he wrote several cadenzas.
It is puzzling that such a renowned composer in his lifetime was so quickly forgotten after his death. This was likely because his style never evolved—he was composing in 1910 just as he had in 1843. Nevertheless, his output was enormous, spanning all genres and instrumentations, and it is not surprising that he composed a Sonata for the Left Hand, op. 179, in 1884.
Reinecke’s left-hand sonata is a hidden gem of the Romantic repertoire and a true masterpiece. The first movement is troubled and mysterious yet forceful, with a beguiling second theme. The second movement, based on the Hungarian folksong Ne menj rózsám a tarlóra (My love, do not enter a harvested field), is deeply beautiful. The third movement, Menuetto, is more of a Valse-Caprice with a charming intermezzo. The finale is a fiery, virtuosic tour de force that rounds out the sonata in heroic style.
Reinecke’s voice among the Romantics is unique and inimitable. As a great pianist himself, his writing is brilliant, effective, and sometimes acrobatic, yet always novel in exploiting the instrument’s possibilities.