Sonata de Amor

SONG OF LOVE is a tastefully romanticized biography of the Schumanns (Clara and Robert), as portrayed by KATHARINE HEPBURN and PAUL HENRIED, in a glossy tribute to their classical music. Their life changes when they take in a boarder/student by the name of Brahms, ROBERT WALKER, who immediately falls in love with Clara.

While she makes a successful career as a pianist, her husband is less successful in pursuing his serious work as a composer. The story chronicles the highs and lows of their marriage as they struggle to raise seven or eight children while juggling their professional lives. Whether the romantic angle with Brahms falling deeply in love with Clara is accurate or not, I don't know. I'll have to read more about them to get the full picture, but it makes for an interesting romantic drama with lots of classical music, courtesy of Rubenstein at the piano.

An unusual film for Katharine Hepburn, who does beautifully at the keyboard looking as though she's really playing the instrument, as well as Henry Daniell as Franz Liszt who is quite adept at the fingering.

Good performances throughout, but I suspect that it's a film for classical music lovers only.

I have not seen this movie since the 60's. It is never shown at Hepburn retrospectives and I suspect that is because Clara Schumann--a married woman with a lot of children--is deemed some sort of affront to the Hepburn image or feminism or both.Their social circumstances may have been very different but the Clara Schumann I have read about shared many of Kate's qualities--energy, ambition,frankness and a frantic devotion to the seriously troubled man she chose to share her life with.People who deride the film usually never saw it. Or maybe they do not like classical music but want to hide their feelings behind claims of historical inaccuracies I would like to know more about the director Clarence Brown

Yes,we can ignore the opinions of the pedantic musical historians who belittle this film, because this is one for anyone with a love of music ! In essence, historically accurate - Brahms was a friend of the Schumanns, Robert did suffer from a brain disorder which drove him to attempt suicide and caused his early death, Brahms undoubtedly loved Clara, but she remained faithful to Robert for the rest of her life, whilst she pursued the career of a piano virtuoso (which she was).All of this adds up to a romantic story with all the necessary ingredients plus the music of Schumann and Brahms,(played with customary brilliance by Artur Rubinstein) surely a guarantee of success. The three principal characters are played with a reasonable degree of authenticity, indeed, Robert Walker bears such an uncanny resemblance to Brahms as a young man that one suspects he may be a descendent ! And what a tour-de -force is Miss Hepburns characterisation of Clara Schumann, a woman, by all accounts, possessed of steely resolve and immense courage. The only relatively weak link is Paul Henried, who bears not the slightest resemblance to Schumann, and fails to convey Schumann's determination and musical genius - perhaps a little pedestrian and lacking conviction. The performance of Henry Daniell as Franz Liszt is superb, projecting the personality of 'the Master' to perfection, and particularly worthy of note is his 'performance' of Schumann's 'Widmung', where his simulated pianistic technique is incredibly accurate, indeed, one suspects that he may well be a competent pianist in his own right. The whole essence of this drama is conveyed with a flair and a grasp of the subtle nuances of the various relationships which generates an astonishing degree of authenticity, almost as if we are seeing the events as they actually happened. Add to this the music, the pianism of the incomparable Rubinstein, and a classic has been born to stand the test of time ! As a matter of interest, Schumann composed the song 'Widmung' (Devotion) at the time of his marriage to Clara - the music 'played' by Henry Daniell is,in fact, not the original song, but an arrangement by Franz Liszt.

With the word "song" appearing in the title, this must be another Hollywood biopic about a famous composer: in fact, we get no fewer than 3 here (Robert Schumann, Johannes Brahms and, once again, Franz Liszt), as well as an accomplished female pianist (Clara Wieck, later Schumann)! Being an MGM production and starring Katharine Hepburn to boot, I was prepared for the worst – but I have to admit that I was pleasantly surprised by the result; mind you, I love Hepburn's classic comedies with Cary Grant and Spencer Tracy – yet, given her predilection for theatricality, I tend to approach her dramatic work with less enthusiasm!

The acting is fine all around, but I feel that the honors in this case should go to the consistently underrated Paul Henreid: he tackles the most difficult role as Schumann – whose lack of personal success, and being essentially forced to live in the shadow of his wife and depending financially on her own career, gives him severe bouts of melancholia (brought about by the persistent hearing of one particular dissonant note) which even lead to an attempted suicide and ultimately land the composer in a mental institution (though history tells us this isolation was self-imposed)! At this time, Hollywood was not yet rooted in the concept of rewarding actors playing these type of challenging parts (especially when they are based on real figures), so Henreid's performance – indeed, the whole film – was ignored by Academy voters: another category where it ought to have been a sure-fire consideration was the black-and-white cinematography (back then, color films were separately judged) in view of the exquisite lighting, courtesy of Harry Stradling, throughout.

Anyway, back to the matter at hand: the picture opens on a concert given by Clara where she is constantly being corrected by her stern father (Leo G. Carroll) sitting right behind her! She rebels, however, when – instead of the usual encore – she opts to play a piece by a new composer, Schumann, with Caroll forced to swallow his pride since it particularly pleases the royalty in attendance! After the performance, though, he and Henreid (whom the older man had taken in as a student) exchange harsh words (since the latter apparently intends marrying his mentor's daughter) and, when Schumann leaves, Clara goes with him! Cut to 10 years and 7(!) children later, Brahms (Robert Walker) arrives on the scene – pretty much a younger version of Schumann himself, and who is platonically doted on by both husband and wife. That said, it turns out that he harbors feelings for Clara, and which emerge the more Schumann retreats into himself on account of his condition (reaching its zenith during his conducting of the self-penned opera "Faust" in concert form). For the record, Liszt (Henry Daniell) had been instrumental in securing its production, in an effort to help the Schumanns' impecunious situation (the husband had already been humiliated by seeing Hepburn forced to resume performing after several years but, while the result proves a resounding success so that her agent hopes for a run of such concerts, she is adamant that it be for a one-time engagement only, just so the family can rise above water financially!).

Still, unable to hold himself back any longer, Brahms decides to leave the Schumanns' residence. Following Robert's death, his own career flourishes but, learning of Clara's secluded life, he visits her and, naturally, hopes to fill in the blank of both husband and father (he had been especially close with one of their girls, which the young man had even seen through a case of measles), yet the now-ageing lady tells him that she is still Mrs. Schumann, at which he gracefully retreats…but not before telling her that, if her love for her husband is still so passionate, she should do her utmost to bring his music to the world! The film, then, ends with Clara (towards the end of her own life) sitting down at the piano before vast audiences once again and opting to play the very composition that had received the approval of the present King (who was no more than a boy back when we first heard it!) against her father's better judgment.

SONG OF LOVE has all the ingredients for a sophisticated entertainment – comedy (especially involving the antics of the Schumanns' cantankerous old nanny), drama, romance, child interest and, of course, classical music (that said, even if this is copious throughout and involves all four musically-inclined protagonists, it is hardly memorable in comparison to the recently-viewed A SONG TO REMEMBER {1945}, about Frederic Chopin, and SONG WITHOUT END: THE STORY OF FRANZ LISZT {1960}) – and it is all tastefully handled by veteran Brown, enough to make it palatable for most of its somewhat overgenerous 118 minutes. Although the movie has now been officially released on DVD-R via the "Warner Archives" collection, the copy I acquired is plagued by intermittent wobbliness in the picture (despite being sourced from a TCM transmission).

Considering this screenplay was for a major film studio and geared for the general public, rather than professional musicians or scholars, the five writers who contributed to the script did a decent job.

Centered in the enactment is that of Clara Wieck, played fervently by Katherine Hepburn, who enjoyed a full life of commitment to her composer husband Robert Schumann, large family and artistic ideals.

Clara's strength held the household together, which included border composer Johannes Brahms, played earnestly by Robert Walker.

Paul Henried has the difficult assignment of portraying Robert, a musical genius suffering from depression. Whereas today medication easily placates these symptoms, in the 19th century, people just had to suffer from the ailment, which affected all those around. Henried manages the role with sensitivity.

Clara was known to eschew technical "brilliance" that was the earmark of Franz Liszt, and in one telling scene she conveys her embodiment of "loving simplicity" over Lisztian "show." It's a provoking moment that conjures relevance today, where "young piano whiz kids" often may play up a storm technically, while seldom penetrating the spiritual heart of the score.

Clara apparently was one of the strongest women of the 19th century, in a male-dominated society, successfully surmounting a father's legal challenge of her marriage, the deaths of a number of her children, and a husband who constantly needed attention--all the while composing, arranging, and giving concerts.

In a touching scene Walker's Jonannes admits to his love for Hepburn's Clara. It's not a far-fetched scene, according to musicologists, though there's hardly concrete proof for substantiation.

The film is rich in the works of Brahms, Schumann and Liszt, and Hepburn and Henry Danielle (as Liszt) do commendable physical renderings of mock piano playing to sublime recordings of Artur Rubenstein. Clarence Brown directs with his usual sure hand.