Interview, Charles Owen on Schumann and the piano

Charles Owen, described by Gramophone as 'one of the finest pianists of his generation', has recorded  a new album dedicated to the music of The Young Schumann, on Avie Records. Charles' playing is characterised by clarity, elegance and intimate knowledge of the music, and this is very much in evidence on this superb new release.

I enjoyed a chat with Charles ahead of the album release on 15th November, about the new recordings, his development as a musician, the two-way nature of teaching, and pianos.

One of the things that strikes me about your recording of Carnaval on The Young Schumann, is it really does sound like a carnival of characters, and there’s a dance-like feel to the playing. 

Thank you. I've really tried for that characterisation of dance. You're one of the first people that's heard it, so it's good to get some feedback. You know how it is.

So why Schumann?

I've always loved his music. I think the first thing I heard of Schumann was from a series called The Great Composers and Their Music, which came out when I was about 10. Every second week, you’d get a cassette and a record, and then a magazine that went with it.

I remember something very similar!

I discovered a lot of music through that. The first cassette was the Schumann Piano Concerto played by Radu Lupu. What better way to start?

At the Menuhin School, where I started aged 13, we had an amazing record collection. We pianists were addicted to listening to recordings; not just piano, everything. I remember Martha Argerich's legendary Kreisleriana and Kinderscenen from the 80s, and Murray Perahia’s recordings of Schumann.

I learned the Davidsbündler when I was 17, and I remember being totally obsessed by it. I loved the swiftly changing mood from one thing to another, which is at the heart of the new album. I got into the Lieder around the same time and then gradually got to know the chamber music, symphonies...

He's got this magnetic pull, and I think a lot of musicians feel that. I'm very lucky to have Steven Isserlis as a friend and colleague. He has this obsession with Schumann, and playing some of the cello and piano pieces with him has been revelatory. That fed into this recording. I played him some of Carnaval once, when we were having supper. He went into forensic detail with me. This was at the beginning of last year, and it brought my attention to so many things in the score that I maybe wasn't delivering in sound, but now I am.

The many different accents that Schumann writes, the way he creates certain effects, the breathing between phrases, and what you commented on, the dance rhythms, I can remember he really worked on that and characterization. 

Schumann became obsessed with Schubert once he heard his music. How much do you think that influence comes through in these early works by Schumann?

I'm really glad you asked that question. Enormously so. Schumann was 17 when he heard that Schubert had died in Vienna, and he was absolutely heartbroken. Schubert was a real idol to Schumann.

In the early years, it was the waltzes, polonaises, Ländler, German dances. Schubert wrote a huge amount of those collections, and I think they were better known than his big piano sonatas, chamber music or symphonies at that point. And the form is often a binary form, isn't it? And Schumann uses that structure, particularly in Papillon. He goes further than Schubert, but he takes that as a blueprint.

And that template then develops. I think the dance quality, the waltzing element, this was entertainment. Watch any BBC adaptation of Jane Austen, and you'll see the dancing, either village style or those grand balls with chandeliers. Schumann captures that as well, don't you think? And I would say Schubert and melody, of course. Melodies pour out of both these composers.

That’s where knowing some of the chamber music, the string writing and the songwriting is so crucial to interpreting this music at the piano; that whole thing of being able to breathe with the shape of the phrase.

Yes, and almost always four bar phrases in Schumann. You can fall into a four bar box, which is dangerous, but it's about knowing how to make those four bars into something creative. And that's another thing that Steven Isserlis is very keen on, riding over the bar lines. And it makes an enormous difference.

I work with a lot of amazing string players, and I always have done, ever since I went to the Menuhin School, so that's part of my musical DNA. How that bow is moving when they're next to me, how they're breathing, how the vibrato is going. That can help a pianist enormously. You know, as our sound dies, if we imagine the vibrato going on and the bow move, it transforms it.

These Schumann works are made up mostly of very short pieces, which is great for drawing out the different characters, but how do you achieve a cohesive arc in the overall shape?

It's a very good question. I have to say, and I can't believe I'm going to give this answer… I just do it instinctively. I've never given it any thought at all. I've given so much thought to every note and every small phrase, but the architecture is something which has always come really naturally.

Many things in my own playing have not come always completely naturally. I've had to work. I don't know why this does, it just seems to suit me. I love to talk to everyone at a party, I don't want to be stuck with one person, and that's how I think Schumann was. You know, the short attention span, he would give his full concentration to you and then be on to the next person, the next thing, the next event. And that fleeting quality is one of the things I adore in these early pieces.

We haven’t talked about the Abegg Variations, which also feature on the album. 

The key thing with variations is keeping that core of the original subject there but being able to build the shifting landscape around it.

I never thought I would play the Abegg Variations. There was a wonderful Japanese pianist at the Menuhin School who used to play them so beautifully, I hadn't realised how hard they were.

I was asked to learn them between lockdowns. There was a series of concerts at the Fidelio Café in London, this very intimate venue. Concerts weren't allowed but restaurants were, so they were very clever and had small tables. Each artist had a week residency, and amazing people played. Steven Isserlis had a week, Alina Ibragimova, Pavel Kolesnikov, me…

The organiser said, why don't you do the Abegg Variations? So, I paired them with the Arabesque, learnt them in three weeks from scratch, and delivered a very good first performance. As I worked on them more and more, and as I got into recording them, I discovered the amount of practice they require to bring them to that level is exceptionally high. Because it's a little bit like Chopin's writing in the Piano Concerti, that level of crystalline clarity, virtuoso writing... There's also the inventiveness of the piano writing. There's the humour, the lyricism, and there's some fantastic counterpoint. They’re not simple at all, there's real richness going on.

People often ask, why do we need another recording of this work - of Carnaval, or Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, or whatever. Isn’t the answer there's always something new to discover?

It really is, so long as each artist really immerses himself. Talking of which, I love listening, but when I'm preparing any record, I don't listen to any recordings of repertoire until I find my own interpretation.

This is something that Imogen Cooper taught me, to really dig deep into the score, soak yourself in the score and get to know it. And when you've got your own interpretation, then have listened to a few other versions just to get an idea of where, you know, you might pick up some little things that you might think, oh yes, actually that works really well. You also might hear something which is diametrically opposed to you, which you reject, but you might take something from that too.

And that's another reason why I love teaching, particularly at the very high level. I work with so many outstanding pianists at the Guildhall and in masterclasses, and you hear interpretations of repertoire that you've played and others. And it's fascinating to discover why they've come to those conclusions.

You’re performing the Davidsbündler shortly, on an 1828 fortepiano. Have you played any of the repertoire on Young Schumann on a period instrument, and how useful is it?

I've played Carnival and the Abbeg on this piano. I haven't played the others.

I was introduced to it through Imogen Cooper 20 years ago. She went through a period of playing fortepiano and just experimenting with that.

The Schumann works really well, and it’s fascinating. The keys are so light, the sound is so transparent, and it brings out other qualities in the piece. The main thing I learned from that piano is the character and transparency of sound. I don’t do muddy textures. It’s how I practice and teach; I work on every single voice separately. One of my greatest joys in practicing is going through all the layers, always starting with the bass.

How important is teaching to you?

I love teaching, and I get so much from the students. I’ve worked with the entire spectrum of abilities, and so often you take as much from them as you give. It’s definitely a two-way street. I keep it very controlled because I put so much into it that I’m exhausted at the end, and I just can’t work on autopilot. I’d never do that with anything connected with music.

Tell me about how much you work with a technician to find what you want in a piano.

Everything apart from the Abegg is recorded at Side Manor. A very generous music loving couple who live in the Cotswolds converted a beautiful 12th-century barn into a concert space. They had a big Model D, which they inherited from a dealer in Wales.

It’s an older Steinway, and I’d describe it as like a beautiful garden which had overgrown. I put them in touch with Ulrich Gerhardt, senior technician at Steinway. He went to this piano and spent two or three days on it, and I went down to try it and it was already transformed. He then worked at it again in 2023 and I’d done a run through of this whole programme before going to the Menuhin School to record. I realised their piano, having been worked at by Ulrich for about five days over two years, was utterly perfect for this music. It’s got a much more personal sound than a modern Steinway, like a fine wine that has matured. So, Abegg was recorded at the Menuhin School, and I then finished the album at Side Manor. It’s a different sound, and the range of personality between each octave is very distinctive. Ulrich voiced and regulated it, and transformed it, and this is the first ever commercial recording made at this private house.

What’s next?

Next is an album of Liszt and Franck – all music with a religious strand, including Franck's Prelude, Choral et Fugue. I only bring out one record per year, never any more. I want each record to be special and something I’ve really immersed myself in.