United States Various: Mao Fujita (piano). Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall, New York, 4.3.2026. (ES-S)
Beethoven – Piano Sonata No.1 in F minor, Op.2
Wagner – ‘In das Album der Fürstin Metternich’, WWV 94
Berg – Twelve Variations on an Original Theme
Mendelssohn – Variations Sérieuses, Op.54
Brahms – Piano Sonata No.1 in C major, Op.1
Liszt – ‘Isoldes Liebestod’ from Tristan und Isolde (after Wagner)
Encore: Debussy – ‘La plus que lente’
Mao Fujita’s recital program, mostly devoted to nineteenth-century music, was centered on two pillars: Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No.1 and Brahms’s Piano Sonata No.1. Separated by more than half a century, the works mark moments when two young composers announced themselves as heirs to the German lineage of keyboard writing. Between those pillars, the program traced a trajectory shaped by variation and transformation. Mendelssohn’s Variations sérieuses and Berg’s early Twelve Variations on an Original Theme represent successive stages in that evolution, the latter reflecting the influence of Schoenberg’s idea of ‘developing variation’. Alongside this trajectory ran another thread in the program exploring the chromatic world of Richard Wagner, glimpsed in the intimate Albumblatt for Princess Pauline von Metternich and ultimately magnified in Liszt’s transcription of Isolde’s final scene from Tristan und Isolde, where thematic transformation dissolves into continuous harmonic unfolding.
Such a program places particular demands on a pianist’s sense of structure. In Mao Fujita’s playing, clarity of texture and an instinct for long-range shaping allowed the music’s internal logic to emerge with unusual transparency. The Japanese pianist favored finely balanced voicing and carefully graded dynamics, avoiding overt display. Lines remained lucid even in dense textures, and climaxes emerged through patient accumulation rather than abrupt emphasis.
In Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No.1, Mao Fujita let the music’s youthful volatility evolve within a firmly classical frame. The opening Allegro proceeded with crisp articulation; its wide leaps and sudden contrasts shaped with conversational clarity. Instead of pushing the music toward premature dramatic weight, Fujita kept the texture light and lucid so that Beethoven’s compact motives could interact naturally. The Menuetto introduced a more poised character, its elegant phrasing shaped with restraint while the darker coloring of the Trio briefly unsettled the movement’s symmetry. The finale brought the sonata to a close with buoyant precision, its quick exchanges and darting figures highlighting Beethoven’s playful handling of compact musical ideas.
Dedicated to Joseph Haydn, the sonata carries unmistakable traces of his influence in the clarity of its textures and the wit of its motivic exchanges. Yet in this performance, other stylistic crosscurrents surfaced: lyrical phrases assumed the suppleness of Mozart’s vocal writing, while fleeting harmonic shadows hinted at the introspective lyricism later cultivated by Schubert.
If Beethoven’s sonata announced a new voice at the threshold of the classical tradition, Brahms’s Piano Sonata No.1 was written under the formidable shadow of Beethoven’s 32 piano sonatas and the expansive lyric world of Schubert, a legacy that the young composer had to confront in finding a voice of his own. In Mao Fujita’s hands, Brahms’s doubts seemed to surface at several junctures, momentarily darkening the sonata’s youthful optimism. Even within the bold rhetoric of the opening movement, passages of lyrical hesitation interrupted the music’s sweeping gestures, suggesting a composer testing the weight of the tradition he had inherited. The hymn-like Andante opened a more inward space, its songful line unfolding quietly. Yet the sonata ultimately reclaimed its youthful confidence in the finale, where Fujita’s rhythmic command and sharply defined voicing propelled the music forward with growing impetuosity and more than a hint of defiance against the pressure of history.
Mendelssohn’s Variations sérieuses proved the most compelling interpretation of the evening. The severe theme, presented with plain directness, carried something of the chorale-like gravity Mendelssohn so admired in the music of J.S. Bach, its restrained outline almost floating before the seventeen variations begin to reshape it. Some moved lightly across the keyboard, others pressed forward with increasing momentum as the writing became denser and more forceful, the music shifting constantly in mood and character. The Adagio variation stood apart for its stillness, the melodic line suspended before the music resumed its forward drive. In the final variations and coda, a blaze of virtuosity drove the music to an electrifying yet unassuming close.
Berg’s Twelve Variations on an Original Theme carried the variation concept into a more searching and expressive world. Written in 1908 during Berg’s studies with Schoenberg, the work bears the unmistakable imprint of the teacher even as a personal voice begins to emerge – much as Beethoven’s early piano sonata that opened the recital reflects the influence of Haydn. The theme was stated with simple restraint before the variations began to alter its character in subtle ways – some playful and light-footed, others darker and more inward. Mao Fujita traced these shifts with careful attention to color and pacing, allowing the music’s late-Romantic inheritance to remain audible even as its harmonies wandered further afield.
Those wandering harmonies soon found their natural destination in the music of Wagner. The brief Albumblatt appeared as a lyrical interlude, its gently flowing melody shaped with understated simplicity. The recital reached its culmination in Liszt’s transcription of the final scene from Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde. As played by Mao Fujita, the music did not simply surge inexorably but moved through moments of tense respite. Even at the height of the music’s intensity, Fujita avoided hyperbole, shaping the climax with patient control before allowing the closing harmony to settle with luminous calm.
A quiet encore, Debussy’s ‘La plus que lente’, briefly brought into focus the complex relationship between the chromatic languages of Wagner and Debussy, adding one more subtle thread to the evening.
Edward Sava-Segal