32@32: An epic journey with a musical mastermind
Forget binge-watching a TV show. I just spent two and a half weeks binging on Beethoven. To celebrate his 32nd birthday, Adam Golka played all 32 of the composer’s piano sonatas in a series for the Bach Festival Society of Winter Park.
Personally, I celebrate with a nice piece of cake— but then again, I’m no world-class pianist.
In Golka’s 32@32 series, he set out to play each of 11 programs three times (read on for a slight change to that plan). The programs were recorded and are still available if youwant to watch from home; details are at bachfestivalflorida.org.
Smartly, Golka did not play the works in chronological order but let us see how earlier sonatas contrasted with later ones, how Beethoven could create different moods and ideas even when using the same key. Itwas a fascinating and spirit-rejuvenating way to explore one of theworld’s greatest collections of artistic creativity.
The series was amassive undertaking, especially with coronavirus restrictions in place, for the Bach Festival Society, Golka and hardcore music fans, who found themselves scheduling their days around some of the greatest musical works ever written.
This was my experience.
Program1
(Sept. 30: Nos. 1, 13, 21) “Here’s Adam … ” says Bach Festival Society program manager Rhonda Burnham— and we’re off.
“This is the largest audience I’ve played for in six months,” Golka says. “It really means a lot to me.”
There are eight of us in the hall.
He jokes about the emotional appeal of Beethoven’s music. “I don’t want your tears,” he says. “Iwant your applause.”
And he comes out swinging with movement 1 of Sonata No. 1. It’s a fun romp, with the left hand jumping up the keyboard.
Mechanical issues cause some momentary delays. Golka’s chair squeaks and is replaced by a bench— which creaks. Burnham gamely heaves furniture around.
The microphones recording the concerts for at-home viewers might pick up the intruding sounds, but the audience is lost in the music.
“This is going to be a really good twoweeks,” says an enthusiastic concertgoer aswe depart with our souls soaring.
“It really is,” her friend agrees. “It really, really is.”
Program 2
(Oct. 2: Nos. 2, 25, 11)
A new bench is carried out.
“We’ve gone through maybe 25 benches,” Bach Festival Society artistic director John Sinclair cracks.
He’s serious, though, when he refers to Golka’s feat: “This is an iron man’s adventure,” he says. “Iron brain, iron fingers.”
Golka is at ease, saying, “If sonatas were people, these are three Iwould like to be friends with.”
Me, too.
No. 2s second movement has a gorgeous stateliness without being sad. In the third movement of No. 25, Golka’s hands dance over each other. In No. 11, as the right hand plays solo, Golka’s left hand flutters in the air as if to encourage its counterpart.
The audience doesn’t require encouragement to applaud.
Program 3
(Oct. 2: Nos. 3, 19, 18)
A few hours later, I am back. Golka is routinely playing multiple recitals per day. It doesn’t seem to phase him. In Sonata No. 3, his fingers trill so fast, they blur tomy eyes. No. 18 forgoes a slow movement and is full of ta-da moments.
But Golka saves special words for No. 19, generally considered a minor work in the canon— one that Beethoven’s brother had published against his wishes. It’s simpler than the others,
Golka says, but reflects his desire to “play like an amateur”— not in terms of technique but rather “for the love of the music,” not because it’s a job.
“It’s a nice idea to think about,” he says.
Program 4
(Oct. 6: Nos. 4, 27, 14)
It has been four sonata free days. I might be in withdrawal.
But today’s program makes up for it with one of Beethoven’s biggest hits: No. 14, the “Moonlight Sonata.” Is the fame deserved? In the hands of Golka (literally), you bet.
Fromthe melancholy of the first movement straight through to the finale’s fireworks, the masterpiece thrills. But I also enjoy the lighter No. 20, a palate cleanser between the Moonlight and No. 4, with its dramatic crashes and unusual pauses.
Winners all around.
Program 5
(Oct. 8: Nos. 7, 20, 23) Lots of contrast today: between the movements of No. 7, for a start. I can’t stop smiling during No. 20, with its chipper and optimistic vibe. Then No. 23 starts with a series of manic episodes, with a melody trying to escape the storm. But just like on a Florida afternoon, every time the drama starts to abate, the thunderous crashes come once more.
Program 6
(Oct. 9: Nos. 5, 16, 26) We cross the halfway
point, and Golka is still smiling. So is the audience, especially after the exceedingly merry No. 16. I begin to see why cartoons would turn to classical music— the first exposure to the art form for many. No. 16 seems ready to punctuate the animated shenanigans of Bugs Bunny and his “Looney Tunes” friends.
Program 7
(Oct. 11: Nos. 15, 22, 28) “He’s still holding up,” Sinclair tells us before the program starts. “I’m not sure how.”
No. 22 is a lesser-known work. Golka says it is often considered an “inferior” piece, but he finds it “refreshing.” Maybe it’s more fun to play than hear; it’s interesting for its humorous novelty factor but ranks far below my favorites.
Iwatch the concert with the biggest crowd yet— 14 of us in a hall that can hold 400. Not for the first time, I am glad the Bach Festival Society is recording the concerts so music lovers can watch and listen from home.
“I feel like we’re family by now,” Golka tells us diehards. “It’s a wonderful feeling.”
Program 8
(Oct. 12: Nos. 24, 29)
A sign of flagging? Golka drops one recital and decides to play this program twice instead of three times. Of course, it could be for poetic reasons: Now he will perform precisely 32 concerts for 32@32.
The program contains
the notoriously demanding No. 29, or “Hammerklavier.” Golka says the piece is rough on his shoulders, and I soon see why. While his face reflects the intensity of emotion in the music, his shoulders and arms are doing the physical work. I don’t think he’s doing his neck any favors, either.
The athletic performance is spellbinding, as is the music it creates.
Program 9
(Oct. 15: Nos. 9, 17, 30)
I coast into the concert withmy gas tank running on fumes, but practical matters are banished from my head by the time Golka dives into No. 17, known as “The Tempest.” The pianist sighs, murmurs, almost hums as he is caught up in the torrent of feeling flowing fromhis fingers.
There really shouldn’t be anyway to follow such a work, but No. 30 captivates with its own fireworks. Not for the first time, as I head to a gas station praying undermy breath, I contemplate what an embarrassment of riches this series is serving us.
Program10
(Oct. 16: Nos. 12, 6, 31) As the end nears, Sinclair is in awe.
“I envisioned it, but I didn’t quite come to grips with the depth of magnificent-ness of hearing them all together,” he says.
“Magnificent-ness” is the perfect word, even if a stick-in-the-mud dictionary might prefer “magnificence.”
No. 12 is the sonata played at Beethoven’s own funeral, and it does not disappoint. But I ammost struck byNo. 6. There’s something hypnotic in the repetition of Golka’s phrasing, something mesmerizing in themovement of his fingers.
It’s hard to believe these sublime escapes fromreality are coming to an end.
Program11
(Oct. 18: Nos. 8, 10, 32) The final recital opens withNo. 8, the famed “Pathetique.” The instantly recognizable secondmovement is so familiar that it’s easy to forget the thrills of the firstmovement and the charm of the third.
For the final piece, Beethoven’s final sonata, Golka skips his customary pause before he begins, his fingers practically flinging themselves into the grand chords ofNo. 32. Whispering, booming, the notes fly through what Golka calls an “incredible journey”— like the series itself.
Sinclair proclaims it “the most significant series the Bach Festival Society has ever produced.”
Golka calls it “an overwhelming experience” and tells the faithful audience members, “I wish I could take you toNewYork, and play for you every day.” Several indicate theywould be willing to relocate.
In a post-concert talkback, we learn that between sonatas, Golka would often lie on a yoga mat backstage to compose himself. Iwonder, toward the end of this marathon, howhe found the strength to get back up.
I try theMoonlight Sonata, a sweet, floral cocktail crafted by TheNewStandard to accompany the series. It’s only right to raise a glass with a toast to the Bach Festival Society for elevating our arts scene; to Beethoven, of course, for elevating humanity; and to Adam Golka, for elevating the art of making music.