Now the circle was complete: in September 2024, the Linos Piano Trio opened the Bruchsal Castle Concerts with a grand piano by the Augsburg piano maker Johann Andreas Stein; at the end of the three-part series, his daughter now came into focus. Anna-Maria (Nannette) Streicher – wife of musician Johann Andreas Streicher, also a piano builder – was one of the remarkable women of the 1800s. Nannette and her siblings helped out in their father’s workshop from an early age and were thus introduced to the art of piano building at an early stage. In addition, Nannette received piano lessons and was already playing in public at the age of seven. In this way, she also demonstrated her father’s piano-building skills, whom she accompanied on his travels time and again.
After Johann Andreas Stein’s death, Nannette took over the business as a young woman. Two years later, after her marriage in 1794, she moved with her husband to Vienna, where she also relocated her workshop – shipped in its entirety via the Lech and Danube rivers. The family-run business eventually became one of the most important in all of Europe. The tone of the instruments was considered “pure, gentle, and mellow”; even Beethoven assured Nannette Streicher that he particularly appreciated her instruments. Guests in the well-attended chamber music hall of Bruchsal Palace now had the opportunity to experience this art: The Linos Piano Trio played on the replica of a Nannette Streicher fortepiano by Gerard Tuinman. Anyone who attended all three concerts noticed that, as different as the timbres of the respective grand pianos were, they always blended perfectly with the sound of the string instruments.
Konrad Elias-Trostmann (violin), Vladimir Waltham (cello), and Prach Boondiskulchok (piano) open the evening with a tribute to the piano maker, namely with a short march in E flat major by Nannette Streicher – it sounds like a festive overture. In addition, the three have included a Beethoven contemporary on the program who, although he appears from time to time in concert programs, is likely to be largely unknown: Louis Ferdinand, Prince of Prussia, a nephew of Frederick the Great. He was witty, well-read, and highly musical, and he must also have been a brilliant pianist. Beethoven himself attested that he played not only “princely,” but “like a skilled keyboard player.”
Louis Ferdinand also composed for his own use – and here, too, he shows his wit: what the audience heard (namely the “Allegro espressivo” from the E flat major piano trio, op. 3) sounds by no means like a royal occasional work, but rather like a composition to be taken seriously. His musical language is rooted in the Classical period, but there are also sudden breaks; Robert Schumann called the prince a “Romantic of the Classical period.”
The movement begins with an elegantly sweeping gesture, and the melody is graceful; once again, the Linos Piano Trio delights with its interplay of lines. The piano figurations, the artful embellishments and cascades also reveal the royal virtuoso. The music is sensitive and airy at the same time, the treble shines, and in between, in the dramatic part, the cello sets accents in the lower voice with spirited gestures. The violin then sings out gently.
“Above all, however, Beethoven’s music regularly becomes a profound experience with the Linos Piano Trio. One could almost think that the three were born with it—that’s how natural and self-evident it all seems. They radiate an immense joy in playing, and added to this is the tonal blend of the three instruments: the warm, round tone of the piano blends perfectly with the strings; the bell-like treble also adds a distinctive note.”
The first movement of the E-flat major Trio, Op. 70, No. 2, is a minor event. The work begins with a calmly flowing canon, a triple imitation—but the Linos Piano Trio waits with intense concentration for complete silence in the hall. Only then does the cello rise, the other instruments joining in; later, this canon becomes a gentle retreat once more. In between are supple phrases and robustly thrown-off passages. The movement takes its leave with a noble gesture.
The subsequent Allegretto delights with its delicacy, the third movement with soft melodies, and the finale with a lively discussion. In between, the piano sparkles. Again and again, one marvels at how much the three musicians can retreat into the extreme pianissimo without losing any emotion. Several times during the evening, there are such fragile moments that, as a listener, you avoid moving in your seat for fear of disturbing the intensity.
At the beginning of the B flat major Trio, Op. 97 (“Archduke”), the noble tone of the fortepiano comes to the fore once again before the strings join in and take over the melody. The movement is repeatedly driven by the piano; trill figures and pizzicatos create delightful effects. In general, the three musicians succeed in constantly modulating their sound: from a broad, orchestral tone to fine detail, everything is on display here.
The Linos Piano Trio also celebrates the changes in mood. The scherzo begins charmingly, but suddenly, with the fugato section, dark “clouds” seem to gather, only to be dispelled again soon after. The three conclude so briskly that one almost jumps out of one’s chair. The “Andante cantabile” is graceful and transparent in its figurations, and the fourth movement takes unexpected turns: again and again, the three draw attention to the surprising twists and turns; the playing is stirring, but also mischievous and humorous.
The Linos Piano promised an encore last time, and now they delivered: Because they all wanted to try out the grand piano, the three of them sat down (much to the delight of the audience) at the instrument and played Schubert’s “Leise flehen meine Lieder” (My songs softly plead) – leaving the fortepiano to have the last word.
It’s a shame that this series has now come to an end.
Translated from the original German
