"Clara Schumann" wears the mantle of a period love story with attractive distinction — touted as the tale of the feverish menage a trois between Clara (Martina Gedeck), her husband, Robert Schumann (Pascal Greggory), and his protege Johannes Brahms (Malik Zidi), there are plenty of steamy, corset- bursting moments (heaving cleavage as a prerequisite) to sufficiently fill three trailers. Upon closer viewing however, the film has other priorities; it's really the perusal of a fascinating, interoffice, working relationship between three brilliant musicians.
For all the sexual/emotional involvement, work comes first for the trio, and the famed Aryan work ethic (later twisted and exploited by Hitler's Third Reich) comes to the fore in every episode of Clara and Robert's married life. Brahms, too, met the couple through work, and Robert suppresses his jealousy (the attraction between his wife and the younger man is obvious) so all three can settle down and work. At the beginning of the film Robert and Clara are touring Germany. She's the solo pianist in an orchestra and he supplies the music. She sighs wistfully about how she misses their children, but Robert quickly changes the subject and reminds her they have work to do. "When this is over" he says, "then you'll see them."
Within the marriage, Clara is the star, the extrovert artist-cum-business manager who loves performing before an adoring public. Robert is the shy, tortured genius with a voice he can hardly raise above a whisper. Germany's most prestigious orchestra hires Robert to conduct, but when confronted with the players, his nerve fails. Pleading a headache, Robert flees for home and the comforting presence of Clara, whereupon she suggests that they conduct together or that she would replace her husband, which invites condescending chuckles from Robert's employers. In the meantime, the couple has one baby after another and Clara spends her days running from the kitchen to the nursery to the piano.