On the cover of a new compact disc from Harmonia Mundi, three names are listed: that of the composer, Johannes Brahms, that of the pianist, Alexander Melnikov, and that of the maker of the instrument used, Bösendorfer (along with the year 1875). The identification of the performer's instrument of choice for this particular CD is an informative and bold statement. While it is not rare in the string world to highlight the instrument's maker and year in programme notes or in personal biographies of performers, to do the same in the piano world is uncommon. Pianists may identify themselves with a specific maker (e.g. ‘Steinway Artist’ or ‘Yamaha Artist’), but to identify a specific instrument, as here, is unusual and worthy of note. The message is that Melnikov believes the instrument to be as significant as the repertoire performed. The result is a perspective that both addresses historically-informed performance practices and helps to distinguish, in the current market, what might otherwise be seen as yet another recording of Brahms's piano music.

On the matter of historical performance practices, Melnikov's decision to record with a nineteenth-century Viennese piano is based on curiosity rather than creed. Melnikov's liner notes make reference to research on both the performance styles and the pianos of Brahms's period. These two areas of research have been fascinatingly rich and complex. Michael Musgrave has surveyed and analyzed numerous sound recordings from Brahms's circle, including one by Brahms himself, and many by those who knew or had played for him.Footnote 1 Musgrave concludes that there is no definitive performance style; instead, he describes the single commonality among the recordings as each having its own ‘individuality’ and ‘charm’.Footnote 2 With respect to the pianos of Brahms and of Brahms's period, conclusions about the composer's preferences are equally hard to draw. In 2009, George S. Bozarth and Stephen H. Brady wrote a detailed and illuminating article showing that the rapid and dramatic development of the instrument during Brahms's lifetime, and the variety of pianos he encountered as composer and pianist, do not suggest an ideal Brahmsian piano.Footnote 3 With this wealth of research, it is no wonder that Melnikov proclaimed that ‘the question of the instrument of choice for today's Brahms performer should not become dogmatic’ (liner notes).

If current scholarship on Brahms's performance style and choice of instrument suggests a guiding set of principles, rather than doctrine, then how should pianists today approach Brahms's music? One proposition Melnikov seems to make is to discover one's individuality through experimentation, in particular with instruments available today. Even though Melnikov does not exactly tell us why he chose the 1875 Bösendorfer over other Viennese instruments (or any other option he might have had), one can presume he came to a decision by trying out a multitude of pianos. (The reasons Melnikov gives for having chosen the 1875 Bösendorfer include the following: Brahms was familiar with Viennese pianos, particularly with the Graf and Streicher pianos he owned; and when Brahms performed the sonatas for the Schumanns in 1853, he used a Viennese instrument.)

In this spirit, I decided to play on several pianos – period, restored, and modern – to experience the variety of sonorities and actions and to perhaps find my individual voice in the Brahms repertoire. The guiding inspiration, which Melnikov also confesses to have followed, was Robert Schumann's description of Brahms's performance of his first two piano sonatas in 1853. The following is an excerpt from the account printed in the Neue Zeitschrift für Musik less than one month after the performance, at the Schumanns's home in Düsseldorf: ‘Sitting at the piano, [Brahms] began to disclose wonderful regions to us. We were drawn into ever more enchanting spheres. Besides, he is a player of genius who can make of the piano an orchestra of lamenting and loudly jubilant voices. There were sonatas, veiled symphonies rather.’Footnote 4

With this description in mind, I began my investigation by visiting the Collection of Musical Instruments at Yale University. There, with the assistance of curator, W. Nicholas Renouf, I quickly experienced the sensational differences among pianos of the nineteenth century. I started with a late-eighteenth-century fortepiano, a restored 1795 Könnicke. As was to be expected, I found it practically impossible to play Brahms's sonatas on that instrument. The earliest actual piano in the collection on which I could conceivably play the sonatas, though not comfortably, was the restored 1828 Bösendorfer. Despite beautiful lyricism in the middle range, I found the instrument to be lacking in the bass. Progressing through the century, I played on two pianos from the 1860s: a lightly restored 1864 Bechstein and an 1867 Steinway in original condition. These two pianos were substantially more powerful than the 1828 Bösendorfer and, as early examples of the ‘modern piano’, they were without a doubt more than adequate for all nineteenth-century piano literature. The gem of the collection is a lightly restored 1881 Érard. What distinguished this instrument from the others is its outstanding responsive action, a highly praised and well-known attribute of the Érard pianos. This brief and informative introduction to nineteenth-century pianos formed the basis of how I would then appreciate today's pianos – rebuilt or new.

In the next part of my exploration, I compared ten concert grand pianos: Bechstein D, Blüthner model 1, Bösendorfer model 290, Fazioli model 278, Steingraeber & Söhne model 272, Yamaha CFX, a rebuilt 1886 Steinway D, a rebuilt 1977 Steinway D, and two New York Steinway Ds. (All pianos are twenty-first-century instruments unless otherwise indicated).Footnote 5 I also tried an Estonia model 190, which is not a concert grand. (Unfortunately, there was no concert grand Estonia in the Manhattan showroom. Since all other pianos were of a similar size, I felt it was unfair to compare the Estonia model 190 with the rest.) It is undeniable that all the instruments on which I played are of the finest quality available today, and all of them are worthy of any pianist interested in a range of repertoire from the seventeenth century to the twenty-first. Given my task, however, I had to focus on a piano that would fit Schumann's description of a Brahmsian symphonic orchestra; that piano was the rebuilt 1886 Steinway. When I played the Introduction to the Finale of the Second Sonata on the 1886 Steinway, I could hear the piece as a ‘veiled symphony’. The opening four-measure phrase represents the French horns; it is then followed by timpani in the left hand and strings in the right hand; the first eight-measures conclude with a scalar run as if strummed on the harp. This sequence of textures and timbres is repeated twice in the subsequent two phrases, with the final two measures in tutti. When I played on the rebuilt 1886 Steinway, my imagined orchestra was as much inspired by the instrument itself as it was by Brahms's score and Schumann's commentary.

My choice was based on several factors, including pianos available, time constraint, repertoire, and, of course, my personal taste and playing style. In other words, I would not expect another pianist to arrive at the same conclusion even if given the same conditions. Therefore I must emphasize that my objective to explore the diversity of piano makers – past and present – was not to declare a ‘winner’ but to broaden my knowledge of modern instrument makers and rebuilders and hence of piano playing in general. After my exploration, I returned to Melnikov's recording with new insights and renewed enthusiasm. Instead of comparing his playing with those of other pianists from the past and present, I heard it as a provocatively sonorous performance with subtle and nuanced timbres from the piano that I had not heard previously. My new appreciation for the refined and sophisticated differences among the fifteen pianos I tested transformed into an admiration for Melnikov's stimulating performance.

If we believe, as Melnikov does, that ‘seeking answers’ to historically informed performances ‘only leads to discovering new questions of ever-increasing difficulty’, then let's embrace those challenges, let's explore the diversity of pianos in the current marketplace, and let's expand our knowledge and understanding of the piano repertoire through experimentation.