Intermezzo in A major, Op. 118 No. 2

Brahms wrote the Op. 118 intermezzi late, for Clara Schumann, and this A major one has become the most beloved thing he composed for solo piano — a piece that says everything at conversational volume. The opening theme rises in a tender arch and then folds back on itself, harmonized so richly that the inner voices keep pulling the melody in unexpected directions; nothing is simply accompanied, everything is polyphonic, and the tune is constantly being echoed a beat later somewhere in the middle of the texture. KaJeng Wong's reading, captured in a relatively intimate studio setting, favors warmth and rubato over classical evenness, letting phrases breathe and the middle F sharp minor section darken properly before the return. That return is the emotional event: the theme comes back not transformed but simply accepted, the way you might revisit a memory you have stopped fighting. It is music about looking back without bitterness — autumnal is the standard word and it is accurate — written by a man in his late fifties with most of his life behind him and his oldest friend dying. Six or seven minutes, no drama, no display, technically approachable but interpretively bottomless. Play it in the evening at low volume while doing nothing in particular, or for someone you are trying to comfort without saying anything. It has consoled people for a hundred and thirty years and shows no sign of wearing out.