Beethoven's Ghost
Beethoven’s Ghost
Presented by Musica Viva
Adelaide Town Hall
Kristian Winther, violin; Timo-Veikko Valve, cello; Aura Go, piano
Saturday May 9, 2026
Two substantial works sat at opposite ends of this concert: Beethoven’s ‘Ghost’ Trio, and Ravel’s Piano Trio. They are familiar pieces; among Beethoven’s trios, the ‘Ghost’ is only surpassed in popularity by the ‘Archduke’. Ravel wrote one piano trio, which is a standard work for the ensemble. Putting them both on the same program could be construed as a capitulation to popularity, but I think rather that it was an interesting opportunity to compare the works of two composers who in almost every respect were the antithesis of one another.
Speculation about how the personalities of composers are reflected in their work is always dangerous. Films made about famous composers may document their lives to some degree of accuracy but fail miserably to explain what is going in on their minds when writing music. (The same could be said of any film about the life of an artist or writer.) Yet, without falling into the biographical fallacy, it seems a reasonable proposition that there is some connection between the composer as a person and the music. Even John Cage, who tried to remove himself from his music by resorting to chance, left an indelible imprint of himself on his work.
The ‘Ghost’ Trio has two irrationally cheerful movements surrounding a very dark slow movement. It was standard practice in the classical era for the slow movement to contrast both in tempo and character with the rest, but the disparity here is extreme. One can see how the name ‘Ghost’ (given to it by Carl Czerny) appealed to the gothic imagination of the 19th century, but Samuel Beckett probably came closer to the mark in his television play Ghost Trio, in which Beethoven’s quartet has a starring role. Starkly contrasted with the suffocating, emotionless reality of the play, the music exists beyond words, outside time, space and human control. Put that thought together with the other two movements and you get a much deeper and darker reading of the whole work. Kristian Winther (violin) and Timo-Veikko Valve (cello) were perfectly matched, sharing similar dramatic and expressive instincts that allow the music to unfold in the moment. Aura Go brought a wonderful fluency and impeccable phrasing to the piano part.
Ravel has been doomed by history to being an ‘impressionist.’ He was a dandy and a socialite who was lonely, emotionally fragile and deeply unhappy for most of his life. Beneath the dazzling surface of his music (like the exquisitely tasteful clothes he wore) was a very different reality, especially in the last decade of his life as he descended into dementia. French author Jean Echenoz, in his excellent ‘novelised biography’ Ravel, paints a speculative but convincing portrait of the tragedy of a composer universally adulated but utterly alone. It’s the enigma of Ravel and of the Piano Trio – gorgeous music with dark undercurrents. This performance had plenty of the ‘gorgeous’ Ravel – exquisite harmonics from Kristian Winther, melodies steeped melancholy from Timo-Veikko Valve, and sumptuous harmonies from Aura Go. The players managed to sustain a balancing act between the gorgeous and the sharp, jagged edge of anxiety that kept cutting through, even when the music seemed most joyous. Keeping these tensions constrained within the essentially classical character of Ravel’s musical language is a challenge and there are always more depths to explore.
Between these two monuments were two much shorter works by Lili Boulanger, sister of the formidable Nadia, and Australian composer Melody Eötvös. Being stuck in the middle of two widely acknowledged masterpieces by great composers is not any composer’s favourite place to be. But a gig’s a gig. Lili Boulanger’s D’un soir triste (best translated as ‘On a sad evening’ rather than ‘Of’), written shortly before her death aged 25 in 1918, is a lovely work. If you know the backstory of her tragic early demise from tuberculosis, then it becomes very moving. The expression is direct and doesn’t have the complexity and ambiguity of emotion found in Ravel, but it’s a fine piece for a young composer and was beautifully played. Regnare by Melody Eötvös is a mixture of musical material, a kind of mix-and-match approach that is symptomatic of the times in which we live. The musical orthodoxies that dominated the 20th century and were supposed to guarantee formal cohesion have practically burnt out and nothing has really taken their place. Regnare is a well-stitched together collage and the performance was, as far as I could tell, excellent.

