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Schubert's Sonata in G begins with a beautiful, sleepy, not immediately gripping theme--not so much a melody as a murmur of chords. It keeps ambling out in various directions only to retreat to the same delectable place, as if it could not rouse itself from its G-major bed. When I was studying piano, I foolishly decided that this was one of the Master's more insignificant efforts, and skipped forward to the Sonata in B Flat, which has a way of sounding unutterably sublime even in the hands of a bumbling amateur. I felt an extra, private sense of wonder when Mitsuko Uchida played the G-Major Sonata the other night at Carnegie Hall and unlocked Schubert's secrets one by one. ...