Album Review: Schubert’s Sonata in A Minor Op. 42 D845 & Co. – Alfred Brendel Takes the Keys
Alright, let’s get this straight—classical music reviews can sometimes feel like you’re reading a dusty encyclopedia entry. But not today, my friend. We’re diving into Alfred Brendel’s 1975 take on some of Franz Schubert’s most evocative piano works, released under Philips in the UK. Think Romantic-era vibes with all the emotional turbulence and finger-twisting brilliance that makes classical buffs go weak at the knees.
The Tracks That Stuck Like Glue
Now, I’m not gonna lie—this album has more tracks than a cat meme compilation, but two stood out to me like neon socks at a funeral: Sonata in A Minor, Op. 42 D.845 and Hungarian Melody in B Minor, D.817. Here’s why they burrowed into my brain like an earworm wearing steel-toed boots.
Sonata in A Minor, Op. 42 D.845
This one kicks off with a “Moderato” movement so poised it feels like Schubert himself is sitting across from you, raising an eyebrow as if to say, “Can YOU handle this?” Spoiler alert: probably not. Brendel plays it with such clarity and precision that even your grumpy neighbor would stop complaining about loud noises just to hear what happens next.
But wait, there’s drama! In the second movement (Andante Poco Moto), things get dreamy and introspective. It’s like Schubert decided to write a love letter to melancholy itself. You know those moments when life hits you sideways? This track captures THAT feeling perfectly. By the time the Rondo (Allegro Vivace) rolls around, it’s clear Schubert wasn’t content with just making beautiful music—he wanted to make sure you couldn’t sit still while listening to it. Hats off to Brendel for nailing every single note without breaking a sweat.
Hungarian Melody in B Minor, D.817
Oh boy, this piece hits different. If the Sonata was Schubert channeling his inner philosopher-poet, then this is him cutting loose at a gypsy wedding. It starts off moody, almost brooding, like someone who forgot their umbrella on a rainy day. But halfway through, BAM—it transforms into something fiery and alive. Brendel doesn’t just play the notes here; he conjures up entire worlds. One minute you’re sipping tea in a quiet café, the next you’re twirling around in a crowded tavern somewhere in Budapest. Bravo, Mr. B!
Why Should You Care?
Look, if you’re new to classical music, starting with Schubert might seem intimidating. After all, he didn’t exactly drop bangers like Taylor Swift or Drake. But trust me, this album will slap harder than most playlists cluttering your phone. There’s something magical about how Brendel brings these compositions to life—it’s like he’s whispering secrets directly from Schubert’s soul to yours.
Plus, who needs lyrics when the piano tells its own story? These pieces are packed with enough emotion to rival any soap opera plotline. And hey, if nothing else, playing this album during dinner parties will instantly boost your intellectual cred. Just don’t act too smug about it.
Parting Thoughts
So yeah, Schubert + Brendel = pure gold. Listening to this record feels like stepping into a time machine that whisks you away to 19th-century Vienna—but better, because no cholera outbreaks or questionable fashion choices.
Oddly enough, after spending hours absorbed in these tracks, I found myself wondering: Would Schubert have been into TikTok? Imagine him filming snippets of his composing process set to trending soundtracks. Actually… never mind. Some mysteries are best left unsolved.
