Critic’s Notebook: An Odd Liederabend from Goerne and Kissin

Also reviewed for Die Presse: Ein Liederabend, bei dem vieles auf der Strecke blieb

R. Schumann, Dichterliebe, Liederkreis M.Goerne, V.Ashkenazy Harmonia Mundi

J. Brahms, 4 Serious Songs, 4 Songs op.32 M.Goerne, C.Eschenbach Harmonia Mundi

A Walrus in Love

The trick to turn a Liederabend from a connoisseur’s event into a big-ticket item, appears to be the addition of a pianist superstar to the singer in question. At the Musikverein’s Golden Hall, on March 13th, the magic ingredient to bolster Matthias Goerne’s already considerable draw was Evgeny Kissin. It makes sense, too, because in theory it’s much more interesting to hear, what two veritable artists come up with, as part of their collaboration, rather than simply having a singer be followed by an accompanist. I mean, no one goes to a concert to hear Helmut Deutsch – and few singers form as organic a duo with their ivory-partner, as do/does GerhaherHuber (one word)™.

In practice, that didn’t quite work out on this occasion. For starters, the Golden Hall was decidedly not built for Lieder-recitals. When Lieder-singers hit the big-time, they almost invariably become the victim of their own success, location-wise. And yes, there were smile-inducing moments from Kissin, such as his brawny-pawed opening of Robert Schumann’s “Am Strand”. But for the most part, there seemed little input from him… or if there was, it didn’t appear to be picked up on by Goerne. (Certainly his understanding with Christoph Eschenbach as his pianist, for example, suggested more of a give and take, both, on record and live.)

Also: The whole evening was full of mannerisms galore. Goerne can barrel through a song and braw like a donkey. And a lot of fun it sometimes is. On this occasion, a red-faced Goerne danced as if on tippy-toes, contorting himself, and reminded vaguely of a lovelorn walrus. Much of Dichterliebe, for example, was purred in honeyed tones but mumbled in such nasal tones, that it had to be an interpretative choice. Albeit one I did not comprehend. Half the text was impossible to understand and sounded more French than German. This approach was interrupted occasionally, such as for the blistering “Die Rose, die Lilie”, or in stentorian turns for the last of the nine Brahms op.32 songs, “Wie bist du, meine Königin”. Here, Kissin, hunched over the keyboard as though he had forgotten his reading glasses at home, provided for tantalizing contrast with his tone, ringing out clear as a bell, and his lullaby-esque take on it.

But that was too little, too late. Too much text fell by the wayside. Whatever was left had a strangely impersonal quality about it and was – and this can’t just be blamed on Brahms – somewhat brittle and wearisome.

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Briefly Noted: Kissin plays Salzburg

Evgeny Kissin, Salzburg Recital (Berg, Chopin, Gershwin, Khrennikov) (released on September 2, 2022) DG 00028948629947 | 97'32"

Evgeny Kissin's most recent recital in Washington was scheduled for May of 2020. Because that was obviously canceled, it has been a long drought since the celebrated Russian pianist last appeared here. To fight the withdrawal symptoms, your critic has turned to Kissin's newest recording, captured live at the Großes Festspielhaus in Salzburg in August of 2021.

The last several years have brought significant changes to Kissin's life. In 2017, during a break from performing, he married a childhood friend and wrote a memoir. In July of 2021, just before Kissin played this recital, his piano teacher, Anna Pavlovna Kantor, died at the age of 98. She was much more than a teacher to Kissin, becoming a member of his family and living with them for the last thirty years. "She was my only piano teacher, and everything I am able to do on the piano I owe to her," Kissin has written, dedicating this recital to her memory.

One imagines that the pandemic shutdowns were difficult for Kissin, who has always seemed to be most at ease while playing on stage, as if music were in a way his first language. "I’m simply more inspired in front of an audience," he is quoted saying in the liner notes of this two-disc set. He played this recital to a full house, something he said was very important to him, even in the face of coronavirus restrictions. Although he once told me backstage at the Kennedy Center that he had no interest in composing his own music, one of the Salzburg encores is his own Dodecaphonic Tango. Composition is now an interest of his: Kissin, who has been vocally critical of the Russian invasion of Ukraine, is also composing a piano trio in response to this unprovoked war.

Among other curiosities, the program opens with a prickly performance of Berg's Piano Sonata, op. 1. A decidedly idiosyncratic rendition of Gershwin's Preludes follows a set of short pieces by Tikhon Khrennikov (1913-2007), a Russian composer and Soviet functionary. The choice is definitely odd for political reasons, given Khrennikov's consistent holding of the party line during the darkest years of the USSR and even after its dissolution. Listeners are then treated to the palate cleansing of Kissin's inimitable Chopin. Unable to let go of the audience, Kissin offered four encores, as usual some of the most exhilirating moments.

Evgeny Kissin, Master of Prokofiev

Chopin, Sonatas (inter alia), E. Kissin (Sony re-releases, 2014)

One of the highlights of any Ionarts season is a concert by Evgeny Kissin. The latest opportunity to hear the Russian virtuoso came on Wednesday night, in an uncompromising program presented by Washington Performing Arts in the Music Center at Strathmore. An inner core of deeply felt emotional masterpieces -- Prokofiev's fourth sonata and sets of Chopin nocturnes and mazurkas -- bolstered by showier Beethoven and Liszt on the ends. Those more profound pieces at the heart of the program were the high point, while Kissin left no doubt as to his near-unassailable technique in the outer ones.

Kissin remains at the top of my list among living interpreters of the music of Chopin, an impression maintained by this performance. In his hands, these pieces had an extemporaneous feel to them, beginning with the gesture of beginning the first nocturne on the program (B-flat minor, op. 9/1) with the right hand almost from nothing, hesitant even to start the piece. Kissin has a fluidity of rubato that sounds like improvisation, not rushed or dragged out sentimentally, but hesitating and impetuous in equal measure, with even the embellishments to the melody sounding not practiced but added on the fly. In all the nocturnes, there were degrees of exquisite softness and exceptional freedom in the runs of the right hand. Six mazurkas, even more intimate pieces, were exquisitely pondered, to the point of almost ignoring the audience: the blue notes savored in op. 6/1, the hurdy-gurdy sections of op. 6/2 and op. 7/3 dark and creaking, the middle section of op. 7/2 more martial.

Other Reviews: Anne Midgette, Kissin slightly less than telling at Strathmore recital (Washington Post, April 24) John von Rhein, Evgeny Kissin regales fans with masterful Chopin and more (Chicago Tribune, April 20) Lawrence A. Johnson, Kissin’s distinctive mastery brings illumination on a rainy afternoon (Chicago Classical Review, April 20) Tim Ashley, Evgeny Kissin review – reflection and severity from former prodigy (The Guardian, March 23)

After the masterful rendition of Prokofiev's eighth sonata heard at his 2009 recital, as well as his recording of the composer's concertos, one expected great things of the fourth sonata (C minor, op. 29). Prokofiev built this sonata from themes of earlier pieces in his old notebooks, and the piece feels heavily layered, strands on top of strands that Kissin teased apart with careful patience, the first two movements steeped in melancholy but also wistful tenderness. The finale provided all of the fireworks Kissin needed to end the first half, at times cantankerous, heavy-handed, even clownish, all around extraordinary.

The only minor disappointment was a somewhat willful performance of Beethoven's Waldstein Sonata (C major, op. 53), with the first movement bouncing around in tempo, many of the runs just slightly mushed together and the second theme weighty, maybe a little clunky. Little changes and hesitations here and there seemed over-thought, which made the slow movement viscous and oozing. Then there was the third movement, taken at a moderate pace, the bell-like main theme's first note played as if it were an anacrusis. Kissin's trills were immaculate as they buzzed around the trill-laden statement of the theme. The counterpart of this display was Liszt's outrageous Hungarian Rhapsody no. 15 ("Rákóczi March") at the recital's end, which whipped the audience into a frenzy satisfied only by three encores: Chopin's Nocturne in F# minor (op. 48/2), Liszt's arrangement of Paganini's "La Chasse" caprice, and the march from Prokofiev's opera Love for Three Oranges. So much the better that Washington Performing Arts will not make us wait two years for the next concert by Evgeny Kissin, who will return to the Kennedy Center on October 28.

As a postscript, it bears saying, on this official 100th anniversary of the massacre of Armenians in Turkey, that Evgeny Kissin has spoken out for the recognition of this tragedy as a genocide. After the speech by Pope Francis to the Synod of the Armenian Catholic Patriarchal Church earlier this month, more governments may be willing to say the same.

Evgeny Kissin and the Yiddish Word

A recital by Evgeny Kissin is an unmissable event in my calendar. We have covered every one of his performances presented by Washington Performing Arts Society, generally every other year, last in 2013 and going back to 2007 and 2005. Nothing prepared me, however, for the sensation offered by his latest performance, a concert of solo piano music by Jewish composers, presented by the series Pro Musica Hebraica and the Kennedy Center in the Concert Hall on Monday night. In a noble and out-sized gesture, Kissin took public note of his recent embrace of Israeli citizenship by having this program be his first concert in the United States since that decision became official. In between performances of this mostly obscure music, Kissin made the unprecedented choice of reciting some of his favorite Yiddish poetry.

The musical part, of course, was inspired, imposing, and diverting. Kissin is the sort of player who can make lesser music sound better than it might deserve, but the four selections on this concert all seemed to stand on their own. Ernest Bloch's piano sonata (op. 40, from 1935), heard in recordings up to this point, struck my ear as a little formless and wandering. It needed a virtuoso like Kissin to bring it to life, putting all of its various colors and influences (Debussy and Prokofiev, especially) in line, especially the opening of the central slow movement, where a vista into a whole new sound world opened up, and the brutal, but not overly fast, march of the finale. Mikhail Milner's Farn opsheyd (Kleyne rapsodie), from 1930, was a little Chopinesque in style, rather chromatic, an example of a piece that is not all that engaging made to shine on a beautiful wrist.

Other Reviews: Anne Midgette, Evgeny Kissin plays forgotten composers and declaims poetry in stunning performance (Washington Post, February 26) ---, Kissin offers Jewish composers, Yiddish poets in striking concert departure (Washington Post, February 22) John Podhoretz, Overwhelmed and Awed at the Kennedy Center (Commentary, February 25)

The most unusual discovery was the second sonata of Alexander Veprik (1899-1958), from 1924, which was more expressionistic in style, a rumbling tempest of trills, repeated notes, downward-slashing tritones, jagged motifs, and brutal parallelisms. The slow section went a little more in the direction of Rachmaninoff, but here one was reminded most of the barbaric style of Bartók. It worked because Kissin made it into a rather dramatic, storm-tossed monologue, with great variation of touch. The Suite dansée (op. 44, 1928) of Alexander Krein (1881-1953) was lighter in tone, with more hints of early jazz and Ravel, perhaps Satie in the third movement, Stravinsky in the fifth.

As striking as the music was, though, it was the recitation of the poetry, happily with English surtitles provided, that dashed all expectations. In addition to his rigorous concert schedule, Kissin enjoys making his own art and poetry as hobbies, so I have heard. Even so, he recited with what seemed only a couple of minor hesitations, and in a way that was emotive, entertaining, and always diverting (see and hear an excerpt). The poetry, none of which I had ever read or heard before, also afforded major discoveries: the longer, more lyrical works of Haim Bialik (1873-1934), and the shorter, more bleak and dark-humored poems of Isaac Peretz (1852-1915). We had hopes of hearing one of Kissin's own poems when he walked out for a single encore, but instead he recited Die Freid fun Yiddishen Vort (The Joy of the Yiddish Word, 1961) by Yankev Glatshteyn, a fitting end to an extraordinary evening, in which that very joy was passed from heart to heart.

Evgeny Kissin's Op. 111

Liszt, Études d'exécution transcendante (inter alia), E. Kissin Schubert / Brahms / Bach / Liszt / Gluck, E. Kissin Previous Reviews: 2011 | NSO, 2009 | 2009 2007 | 2005

Among living pianists, Evgeny Kissin is in a separate category, someone whose technical acumen and musical approach are near-infallible. We have not missed a single local performance by this most celebrated Russian pianist in the history of Ionarts, and we were not going to miss his latest recital, presented by Washington Performing Arts Society on Wednesday night in the Kennedy Center Concert Hall. WPAS's new leader, Jenny Bilfield, introduced the concert by speaking of her admiration for Kissin, so we may still hope that a biennial recital from Kissin will continue as perhaps our favorite Washington music tradition. As my concert companion for this performance said of Kissin's accomplishment afterward, "What other cosmos did he come from?" In one of the most memorable Kissin performances to date, this concert was centered on an extraordinary reading of Beethoven's final sonata, op. 111, a piece that for me can be ruined by an average or even merely good performance. Kissin's first take on this most daunting vision of a sonata not only utterly convinced me, bringing me to an emotional brink by Kissin's desperate grasp for infinity in the variations, but made me think again about a piece about which I thought I had fixed opinions.

Before the sublime, however, was the mundane as Kissin chose to pair op. 111 -- the farewell to the sonata, as Thomas Mann's Dr. Kretzschmar once put it -- with a sonata that sounded like the genre's elementary beginning. Haydn wrote the sonata in E-flat major (Hob. XVI:49) in the summer of 1790 for his friend Maria Anna von Genzinger, the wife of his employer's physician, who lived in Vienna. It is more difficult to play than the sonatas Haydn wrote for amateurs, but for Kissin it was child's play, a trifle that he dispatched dutifully. He gave it many nuances of phrases and a generally crisp articulation (almost no sustaining pedal), playful in the outer movements without ever becoming broadly comic and with immaculate Rococo twists and cascades toward the end of the first movement. The second movement, the heart of the piece, Kissin made wholly unaffected, earnest, cantabile, tender but with no need for distortion, even in the left-hand crossings. It was capped off by a gentle menuetto, not too fast but with a sense of propulsion, like the rest marvelously polished and contained. One could justifiably have been bored to tears, but I was not, largely because the way the piece purled by, as if streaming forth from a very elegant music box, was so charming. Kissin's capacity for understatement was evident with sections like the closing theme of the first movement (measure 52), a brief moment where he composer seems to lose his train of thought, snared by a momentary step into the harmonic thicket of the subdominant when he is trying to get to the dominant (a gesture Haydn returns to in the development and recapitulation).

If Kissin's goal was to make as stark a contrast as possible with what he was going to do with op. 111, he succeeded. The Beethoven opened with a fierceness in the first movement's menacing fugue subject, at times lost in a wild rumpus of notes. Kissin took the tempos as fast and wild and literal as he could, the bass booming and swirls of notes in the center section. The Arietta was simple, soft, almost but not quite unbearably slow -- as András Schiff pointed out in his lecture on this sonata, is this movement marked "Molto Adagio" or "Adagio, molto semplice"? -- with diverting little wisps of countermelody in the minor phrase of the first variation. Neither the second nor third variation crossed the line from jaunty into "boogie-woogie" -- again, I am with Schiff on this point, that hearing such jazzy overtones in these variations is a "banality." Schiff sees the last movement as being a "Gratias" moment, all about gratitude and thanksgiving, and that seemed to be where Kissin was aiming, at a brush with the divine, in the formless exclamations and wandering triplets drunk with starlight in the fourth variation. The trill section, where a trill has to be maintained as constantly as possible while all sorts of other things happen at the same time, was absolutely magical and serene. Recent performances of the piece immediately sank in my estimation -- Till Fellner in 2010 less so than Simone Dinnerstein in 2009.

Other Reviews: Anne Midgette, Pianist Evgeny Kissin offers Viennese classicism at Kennedy Center recital (Washington Post, April 26) [3 encores] Michael Guerrieri, Personality, proficiency from pianist Kissin (Boston Globe, April 23) [5 encores] Lawrence Budmen, Kissin closes Kravis classical season in supreme artistic style (South Florida Classical Review, April 17) [no encores]

A quartet of Schubert impromptus (two each from the D. 899 and D. 935 sets) brought Kissin back down to earth, music that inspired a simple tunefulness and evanescent calm in his playing. The F minor impromptu (D. 935, no. 1) had effortless hand crossings and transparent serenity, the G-flat major (D. 899, no. 3) a natural stretch to the rubato, perhaps bordering on empty facility at times. The gorgeous B-flat major (D. 935, no. 3) was a radiant, breathing wisp of a thing, and the loopy, wandering excesses of the A-flat major (D. 899, no. 4) were disorienting. Liszt's twelfth Hungarian Rhapsody (C-sharp minor, S 244) was a sort of pre-encore, the only moment of pure theater in an otherwise cerebral, poetically minded program, a frenzy of pianistic showmanship that whipped the crowd into a huge ovation. Kissin was ultimately coaxed into playing three actual encores: a "Mélodie" from Gluck's Orfeo ed Euridice, arranged by Sgambati, for the slow aria; Liszt's tenth transcendental etude for more fireworks; and Liszt's orchestral transcription of Schubert's song Die Forelle to tie the threads together. The sense that Kissin had more encores ready -- including some Chopin, which I always hope to hear from this pianist -- was left unfulfilled. What were the last two encores Kissin played in Boston, just a couple days earlier? Chopin's D minor prelude from op. 28 and Beethoven’s Rage Over a Lost Penny. How sad that Kissin, who had agreed to sign CDs after the performance, did not get to those.

WPAS's extraordinary April continues with a recital by pianist Rafał Blechacz tomorrow (April 27, 7:30 pm), in the Kennedy Center Terrace Theater.

Rethinking Franz Liszt

Read my review published today in the Style section of the Washington Post:

Charles T. Downey, Pianists Andre Watts and Evgeny Kissin offer Liszt recitals
Washington Post, March 8, 2011

Kissin Plays Liszt Live recordings, 1987-2003 (release on April 4)

Franz Liszt's music may be easy to dismiss, but it is as infrequently heard as it is widely misunderstood. The cliches are notorious: the trashy virtuoso, the sex-idol rock star (played appropriately by Roger Daltry in Ken Russell's manic biopic, "Lisztomania") and the repentant abbe. The 200th anniversary of the Hungarian composer's birth this year offers a chance to rediscover this arch-Romantic, one of the most prolific composers of the 19th century. Perhaps it is even time to reconsider the assertion of scholar Alan Walker that Liszt was, in the words of Bela Bartok, "the true father of modern music." Whether that title will lead you to love or hate Liszt more is a matter of personal taste.

Two all-Liszt recitals over the weekend, by pianists Andre Watts and Evgeny Kissin, offered food for thought. Stepping in to replace Nelson Freire on Sunday, Watts played the more rounded Liszt program of the two in his long-overdue debut at Baltimore's Shriver Hall. The highlight was a set of five pieces on the edge of atonality from Liszt's last years, including the "Bagatelle sans tonalite," which ends on a loud fully diminished seventh chord. In these sometimes bizarre works, many of which evoke the despair of the composer's old age (the wandering harmonies of "Nuages gris"), Liszt flirted with the extreme chromaticism ("En Reve"), augmented chords and whole-tone scales ("La lugubre gondola") that would provide paths out of tonality for later composers. [Continue reading]

Evgeny Kissin, piano (WPAS, Kennedy Center Concert Hall)
André Watts, piano (Shriver Hall)
Music by Franz Liszt

RCA will reportedly release a compilation of Liszt pieces played by Evgeny Kissin, recorded live, next month.

OTHER ARTICLES:

• Tim Smith, The one and only Evgeny Kissin (Baltimore Sun, March 7)
  
• ---, Andre Watts at Shriver Hall (Baltimore Sun, March 7)
  
• Thomas Huizenga, Evgeny Kissin Rocks the House: Or How I Learned to Love Liszt (Deceptive Cadence, March 7)
  
• David Weininger, Pianist Kissin plays up to the many challenges of Liszt (Boston Globe, March 5)
  
• John von Rhein, Pianist Evgeny Kissin's Liszt recital a superb fusion of virtuosity, poetry (Chicago Tribune, February 28)
  
• Michael Cameron, No surprises but plenty of fire and artistry in Kissin’s exhilarating Liszt (Chicago Classical Review, February 28)
  
• Michael Church, Evgeny Kissin, Barbican (The Independent, February 18)
  
• George Hall, Evgeny Kissin (The Guardian, February 15)
  
• Richard Fairman, Evgeny Kissin, Barbican, London (Financial Times, February 15)
  
• Ivan Hewett, Evgeny Kissin, Barbican (The Telegraph, February 14)
  
• Stephen Hough, The hot Liszt (The Guardian, December 27)

NSO Opens Season with Kissin

Chopin, Piano Concertos, E. Kissin, Moscow Philharmonic, D. Kitayenko (recorded live in 1984, when Kissin was 12 years old)

Symphony orchestras like to open their seasons with a crowd-pleasing program, combining some flashy favorites and a soloist with enough star power to pack the house. Lang Lang did the job for the BSO earlier this month, and at Saturday's National Symphony Orchestra season opening ball concert it was Evgeny Kissin who provided the wattage. Some in the audience came mostly for the dinner gala, an evening with lots of recognizable Washingtonians -- David Gregory, Alan Greenspan and Andrea Mitchell, Nina Totenberg, Charles Krauthammer -- in a temporary pavilion outside the Kennedy Center providing shelter from the evening's storm: a worthwhile endeavor in that it raised $1.4 million for the NSO. Those whose primary interest was the music -- like pianist Cédric Tiberghien, who had played a lovely recital in the Terrace Theater earlier in the day and whom we spotted in the parterre boxes -- came to hear Kissin play Chopin's second piano concerto.

The Russian pianist, who has made a name performing the Chopin concertos since he was a child, did not disappoint. Kissin played with his accustomed technical mastery, with only one obtrusive note not struck precisely head-on out of a very long work. The phrasing was immaculate, and all the soft and delicate parts set off by carefully scaled dynamic contrasts, well supported by NSO principal conductor Iván Fischer, who helped contain the orchestral sound until the outbursts that were needed. The second movement was rhapsodic, with a gentle, tender opening that took the listener into another internal world (we saw Tiberghien, leaning his head on the box railing, lost in thought). The slow movement's gorgeous conclusion had barely dispersed when the subsequent Allegro vivace commenced, a dramatic finale capped by a fluid, flawless coda.

Other Reviews: Anne Midgette, Start of NSO Season Is at Once Colorful and Lackluster (Washington Post, September 28)

The evening's other soloist, Hungarian violinist József Lendvay, Jr., does not require as many superlatives. He played Pablo de Sarasate's Zigeunerweisen, a work that he and Fischer have been performing with the Budapest Festival Orchestra. Lendvay, the son of a folk violinist, had an easy way with Sarasate's tribute to gypsy fiddlers and their folk tunes, a sort of mother tongue for the performer. Some technical bravura, a charming sense of humor, with a few sour notes along the way, but it was enough to please a gala crowd, who stood and cheered. To round out the Central European theme, Fischer chose Kodály's Dances of Galánta, a pleasing but over-long tribute to the composer's love of folk music from his own hometown of Galánta.

Glinka's overture to Russlan and Ludmilla and that omnipresent gala piece, the Blue Danube Waltz, sufficed for their purpose, although I, for one, would not have missed all those repeats observed in the Strauss. The one odd note was the choice of Richard Strauss's Salome's Dance, adapted from what is still one of the most shocking, even stomach-churning sequences of events in opera. Can this piece really ever be something one hears while sipping champagne and speculating about the economic recovery? As the "Er ist schrecklich" (he is hideous!) theme was floated on a big Romantic waltz, the grotesquerie of the programming choice was palpable.

Iván Fischer's next Hungarian-centered program will combine Bartók's complete score for the ballet The Wooden Prince and Beethoven's sixth symphony (October 1 to 3).

Kissin's New Prokofiev Concertos

Prokofiev, Piano Concertos 2/3, E. Kissin, Philharmonia Orchestra, V. Ashkenazy (released on January 1, 2009) EMI 50999 2 64536 2 0 Concertos 1/3 Concerto 2 Online scores: Prokofiev, Piano Concertos No. 1 (op. 10) | No. 2 (op. 16) No. 3 (op. 26) | No. 5 (op. 55)

Even after admiring Evgeny Kissin's playing for many years, it was still a jolt to realize again how well he played Prokofiev at his last Kennedy Center recital this spring. Of course, Kissin has been playing the Prokofiev concertos for most of his career, even making a couple recordings in the 1980s and 90s. In this recent release from EMI, he offers his latest interpretation of the second and third concertos, both live from concert performances, one week apart, with the Philharmonia Orchestra at London's Royal Festival Hall last year. As noted of his Prokofiev in recital, Kissin's ferocious technique has the necessary force and savagery for the barbaro passages so important in Prokofiev's work. The sound is quite excellent for a live recording, with a minimum of extraneous noise and a close rendering of the piano that reveals the adamantine strength of Kissin's attack. It is the closest one is likely to get to the experience of standing next to the piano while Kissin plays these concertos.

The most striking examples of this come in the second concerto, especially in the cadenza of the first movement, whose brutal challenges Kissin tames with his accustomed technical assurance (more deliberately powerful than impetuously so, as in Yuja Wang's recent reading). The cadenza grows and grows in volume until the orchestra roars back into the movement, one of the most exciting cadenza conclusions in the piano concerto literature. The microphone placement also captures the suave side of Kissin's technique, too, as in the glissandi that swoop downward and upward in the third movement (more refined in quality than, for example, Yefim Bronfman's recording). The sound engineering puts the Philharmonia Orchestra, playing quite well, slightly into the background, but the greater dynamic contrasts of the third concerto require the orchestra to come more to the foreground. Vladimir Ashkenazy, familiar with both sides of the equation in the Prokofiev concertos, keeps things admirably together and helps the orchestra follow Kissin's lead. There are a few moments of misalignment, quickly righted by Ashkenazy, that would be edited in a studio recording but that capture some of the excitement of hearing a work like this performed so well live.

61'48"

Although he will not be playing one of the Prokofiev concertos, one would hate to miss the next opportunity to hear Evgeny Kissin in Washington, at next weekend's season opening concert with the National Symphony Orchestra (September 26, 7 pm), playing the second piano concerto by Chopin. Just a few seats remain at the time of this writing.

Kissin Triumphant in Prokofiev and Chopin

Evgeny Kissin returned triumphantly to Washington for his biennial Washington Performing Arts Society-sponsored recital, on Sunday afternoon in the Kennedy Center Concert Hall. Both his recitals and his recordings have come in for some high praise here at Ionarts, and this performance was no less laudable. Kissin's best playing, as shown in the live recording made at the 2006 Verbier Festival, is in Chopin, providing just the right combination of loneliness and technical furor. Even better balance can be provided by Kissin's other specialty, demanding Russian repertoire, as found in his 2005 Strathmore recital (Medtner, Stravinsky's Pétroushka Suite) but not his 2007 recital (restrained Schubert, excellent Brahms and Beethoven). The music of only two composers passed through Kissin's hands this time, in a beautifully unified program of Prokofiev and Chopin.

Opening with Prokofiev's Three Pieces from Romeo and Juliet, op. 75, Kissin captured Juliet's flightiness in restless runs, the wild romp of Mercutio's Queen Mab speech, and the heavy-footed dance of the Montagues and Capulets, orchestral in scope and marvelously differentiated in voicing. That was a pleasing overture to the meat of this recital, an unforgettable performance of Prokofiev's eighth sonata (B-flat major, op. 84). From the opening note of the first movement (Andante dolce), which Kissin set gently and sweetly in place with such deliberate care, this was a display of patient craftsmanship, alternately elegiac and then restive in the inquieto sections. The piece has never much appealed to me, by comparison to the flashier Prokofiev sonatas (no. 2, no. 7), but Kissin's case was persuasive, giving the second movement (Andante sognando) the feel of someone fallen asleep outside a dance hall, with chromatic chord alterations soft-pedaled and Kissin's velvety touch making time seem to stand still. Finally, the third movement (Vivace) was an outrageous toccata that rumbled with trumpet-like fanfares through to its booming conclusion.

Other Reviews: Anne Midgette, Kissin Is Dexterous but Lacking in Emotion (Washington Post, March 3) John von Rhein, Evgeny Kissin, wunderkind no longer, brings mature insights to Chopin and Prokofiev (Chicago Tribune, February 24)

In a less bombastic all-Chopin second half, the Polonaise-Fantasie (A-flat, op. 61) had a wandering, improvisatory quality that evolved seamlessly into more metered polonaise sections, with an appropriately operatic abandon in the right hand's Bellini-esque flights. The multiple-trill section was flawless and fluttering, and the immense ending had just enough technical perfection while also giving the sense of being emotionally off the hook. A set of three mazurkas showed Kissin stretching the tempo too much at times (op. 41, no. 4) but hitting just the right melancholy tone of Chopin's mal de pays in others (especially op. 59, no. 1). The concluding set of etudes, a selection from opp. 10 and 25, appeared to get Kissin slightly flustered because the audience applauded after an astounding performance of op. 10, no. 12 4, as well as when the set actually ended (after another passionate "Revolutionary" etude). Most startling to my ears were the three selections from op. 25, a sparkly, not buffoonish "wrong note" etude (no. 5), geysers of thirds at impossible speeds (no. 6), and a supremely polished no. 11.

As if the first half were not enough of an indication that Kissin should record more of the Prokofiev solo literature, he focused on Prokofiev in his three encores. (After hearing eight encores in 2007, one could not help feeling a little disappointed.) After a fluid, expansive Chopin nocturne (op. 27, no. 2) Kissin brought down the house with two Prokofiev selections, Devilish Inspiration, Op. 4, No. 4 and the March from Love for Three Oranges. Both were hard-fingered heart-stoppers, just the way this kind of Prokofiev works best.

Compare Russian pianists with the next concert from WPAS, a recital by Olga Kern at Strathmore (March 22, 4 pm).

Kissin at Verbier

Available at Amazon: Evgeny Kissin, Verbier Festival Recital (Chopin) (released January 9, 2007)

Earlier this spring, I revisited the legend of Evgeny Kissin, as represented by the re-release compilation of some of his early recordings, called Fantasy. His recitals in Washington have won consistent praise around here, from Jens in 2005 and me in 2007 (for DCist). We have enjoyed Kissin's performances of the music of many composers, including the disc of Schubert for four hands with James Levine, but invariably it is Kissin's way with Chopin that knocks us flat. This live recording of Kissin's recital at the Verbier Festival in July 2006 is a nice testament to the mature Kissin's handling of a challenging all-Chopin program (much of it included in Kissin's 2005 recital at Strathmore).

Kissin tackled four polonaises, some of the most personal pieces Chopin composed. They are difficult to play not only for their technical demands but their emotional character, bound up intimately with Chopin's identity as a Pole in exile (if we can call Romantic Paris exile). The two early polonaises (op. 26), especially the second one, are masterful readings of less familiar works of considerable charm. Kissin strikes the right balance of blustery Polish nationalism and the forlorn mal de pays -- the Chopin who recited the poetry of Adam Mickiewicz to himself. A few minor cracks even appear in the perfect Kissin veneer, noticeable only in the "Heroic" polonaise (A-flat major, op. 53) that concludes the recital (for example, at about 1:34 in Track 8). That does nothing to diminish Kissin's accomplishment, which is technically staggering (like the rolling thunder of the bass in the B section), and in fact adds a level of sympathetic complexity.


Evgeny Kissin and Martha Argerich, Mozart's Sonata in C for 2 Pianos,
K. 521 (second movement), Verbier Festival, July 22, 2003
(see also first movement and third movement)
The other four pieces on the program are impromptus, a genre rightly identified by Stephen Wigler (who has made a sort of mini-career out of writing about and for Kissin) in the liner notes as more or less Chopin's exclusive territory. Rarely of the same substance as the polonaises (by length if by no other criterion), the impromptus in Kissin's hands are appropriately mercurial, prone to sudden flashes of dreamy reverie or volatility (like the butterfly flutters starting at around 3:55 in the op. 36). Kissin has played the infamous Fantaisie-Impromptu (C-sharp minor, op. 66), because of which every pianist (myself included) eventually has to learn to play sixteenth notes against triplets, at both of his recent Washington recitals (on the program in 2005 and as one of his eight encores this spring). It's a signature piece that Kissin could probably play in his sleep, and he can even make me forget the rainbow-chasing travesty perpetrated on this piece by Harry Carroll (even when sung as memorably as Al Jolson did).

At this year's Verbier Festival, Kissin appeared with the festival orchestra and conductor Esa-Pekka Salonen (July 26) and gave a solo recital (July 30). These concerts can be seen in streaming video, of very high quality (although experiencing a few glitches at the time of this writing), online only through August 31.

RCA Red Seal (Sony BMG) 82876 68668 2

Kissin's Fantasy

Fantasy, Evgeny Kissin (released April 10, 2007)

Russian pianist Evgeny Kissin is 35 years old now, which means that it is long past time to stop thinking of him as a prodigy. Even so, the new release in the Deutsche Grammophon Portrait of the Artist series, a 2-CD set called Fantasy, does just that, taking us back to the time when Kissin was just a kid from Russia with crazy hair. (For some context, check out this video of Kissin playing the first Chopin concerto, at the Tchaikovsky Competition, when he really was just a kid.)

The title of the compilation refers to the combination of several pieces called Fantasy. I admire Kissin's recording of Schubert's Wanderer Fantasy, which has all the delicacy and power one could want. That combination is typical of Kissin's playing, part gossamer wing and part sledgehammer, and it's a live performance, to boot. Most pleasing are the Liszt transcriptions of Schubert songs, also recorded in 1990, which qualify distantly as fantasies, I suppose, in that Liszt's handling of his source material is on the free side. Gretchen am Spinnrade and Erlkönig are savagely difficult, and Kissin plays them with panache. Auf dem Wasser zu singen and Der Müller und der Bach are more contemplative, exploited by Kissin for their harmonic and textural details. (The latter song has a truly odd, lovely melody exaggerated by Kissin's performance.)

Evgeny Kissin at Ionarts: Kissin and Levine, Schubertabend 2005 recital, Strathmore

The Brahms pieces, op. 116, are from the same older recording, when Kissin was still not 20 years old. Kissin and Brahms seem like a good match in temperament (speaking of sledgehammers), and the second op. 116 pieces, an Intermezzo, is particularly nice. The most stunning technical achievement is probably on Liszt's 12th Hungarian Rhapsody (C sharp minor, S. 244), also recorded in 1990. After a lyrical, slow introduction, the piece begins to twitter with virtuosic Hungarian scales, dancing along in folksy accelerandi and rallentandi. One thing that has always impressed me about Kissin's technique is the individuation of his fingers, and he can make every note in the endless scales seem dry and unto itself.

For something completely different, the anthology also has Kissin's 1991 recording of Beethoven's Choral Fantasy, with the Berlin Philharmonic under Claudio Abbado (from the 1991 New Year's Concert in Berlin). It's a pleasant enough piece of music, and vocal solo contributions from Cheryl Studer and John Aler add value, but it's not something I would necessarily seek out. Even less to my taste is the Tchaikovsky first concerto, recorded in 1988 with the Berlin Philharmonic, this time under Herbert von Karajan. Kissin was only 17 when he made it, which is remarkable, yes, especially since it is also a live recording. For this big Romantic concerto, Karajan and the Berlin Phil deliver the goods along with Kissin, ensuring all those lush, bloated characteristics that make me really dislike the piece. There are ups and downs, but this anthology -- priced to move at Amazon, at $12.97 for 2 CDs -- is a good introduction to the Kissin of 15 years ago, in case you missed it.

If you want to hear the Evgeny Kissin of today, he will play a recital, sponsored by Washington Performing Arts Society, at the Kennedy Center on Wednesday night (April 18, 8 pm). The program (.PDF file) includes the Beethoven C minor variations (WoO 80), the Schubert 7th sonata, and sets of Brahms (op. 118, not op. 116) and Chopin.

Schubertabend with Kissin and Levine

F. Schubert, Music for Piano, Four Hands, Evgeny Kissin and James Levine, live concert at Carnegie Hall (released February 7, 2006)

My undergraduate piano teacher was a member of a piano duo with her husband. I am grateful to her for having insisted that I give a recital with a partner every year I was her student, including at least one piece for piano, four hands, or for two pianos. The repertoire for these combinations is among the most rewarding I have ever played, and I am hardly surprised when major solo pianists, who certainly have no need to play this music, partake of its delights. This was the case when Evgeny Kissin partnered with James Levine -- as primo and secondo, respectively, I assume -- for a concert last year (May 1, 2005) in Carnegie Hall's Isaac Stern Auditorium (and in Boston’s Symphony Hall four days before that, reviewed by Stephen Wigler). Michael Steinberg's program notes for the Carnegie Hall concert are an excellent primer on these pieces that Schubert contributed to the genre, some of the best by him or anyone else.

Bernard Holland's review (Schubert's Intimacy Endures Four Hands and 6,000 Ears, May 3) for the New York Times clarifies how Kissin and Levine compensated for the size of the halls where they played:

How does one convey the F minor Fantasy, one of Schubert's deepest and most mysterious pieces, in such a setting? Four hands on one keyboard is, to begin with, not the most transparent of sounds, but for two players sharing a piano bench in some private parlor it is the act, not the passive listening, that matters. No privacy here, however. And with no way to make Carnegie Hall smaller, one could at least make the music bigger. Keep Schubert's text intact, but use two pianos. Double the resonance; separate the players; lose the intimacy. Not ideal, but mutant Schubert played by such fine players was about the best anyone could do.

It's true that Schubert wrote more than his share of memorable tunes, but the main theme of this fantasy is in a class by itself. How is it possible, with such economy (sol-sol-sol-do-sol repeats in how many permutations?), to make something so heart-breakingly beautiful? If Schubert had not brought back that gorgeous melody at the end of the third movement -- a device he used also in the D. 929 piano trio, which I heard played by the Vienna Trio on Sunday -- most players would insist on playing the whole first movement again anyway. (Schubert has you play that theme again twice.)

The two-piano solution is, it must be said, cheating. Part of the challenge of four-hands music -- and much of the appeal when a man and woman partnered -- was how to negotiate the middle ground of the keyboard, whose hand goes over whose and so on. It's hard to tell from the recorded sound, but it would be easy and therefore very tempting to add notes here and there because both players have the luxury of the whole keyboard. The sound is about what you would expect from a live recording, fuzzy at times but the immediacy of a performance happening in real time is always exciting to hear. Both are accomplished players, with Kissin being the real virtuoso and Levine bringing far greater experience as a musician. The pieces might be better off in the hands of a real piano duo, that is, two people who play together regularly, but one cannot make too many complaints on technical grounds here. The playing is solid and musical, even on the most challenging passages, both soft and loud. There is not only melancholy gloom, as in the fantasy, but crashing thunder in the D. 947 Allegro nicknamed "Lebensstürme" (Life's storms). It is overall a worthier performance than the 1965 recording by Benjamin Britten and Sviatoslav Richter, released on CD in 2000.

The substantial program, over 70 minutes with two big encores, runs long enough that the concert is divided into two compact discs, priced nicely as a two-for-one. The main dish of the second half, the C major sonata ("Grand Duo," D. 812), is by itself just over 40 minutes long, a work of substance and weight, if not the greatest melodic genius. The biggest challenge of playing secondo, usually, is not overwhelming your partner's melody and pedaling the right amount (the player on the left in a four-hands duo typically controls the sustaining pedal, which requires a lot of intuition when you have to pedal while someone else is actually playing the melody). Kissin has such melodic strength that his high octaves ring out over Levine, almost no matter how much sound the latter gives.

Some of the greatest technical challenges come in the first of two encores. The Marche caractéristique No. 1 in C, D. 968b, is a romp of pulsating repeated notes, rumbling in the secondo part and incorporated in a most challenging way in primo's melodic material, which is child's play for Kissin. (In fact, at some point he may have played Liszt's transcription of this piece for one piano.) The Marche Militaire No. 1 in D, D. 733, has a circus quality about it, but the intervals do-sol-fi-sol always make me think of clowns. It's probably not what Schubert had in mind. The best way to experience this music is to play it yourself with a friend. Barring that, you could do worse than to listen to this recording, where it will likely sound much better.

Evgeny Kissin at Strathmore

Although I posted it, this review was contributed by Jens F. Laurson.—CTD

Available from Amazon: Evgeny Kissin, works by Chopin

It's spring and apart from cherry blossoms, there seems to be a bloom of great piano recitals. Within less than a week Lang Lang, Philippe Entremont, and—last Wednesday—Evgeny Kissin all came to town. Kissin graced the Strathmore Hall's first piano recital, courtesy of Washington Performing Arts Society and played a first half dedicated to Chopin. Playing with great clarity and a refreshing attack, Kissin set the tone for the recital from the opening notes of the Polonaise No. 1 in C-sharp Minor. Comparison with Lang Lang, who played Chopin last Saturday, is almost inevitable and while the last time I saw Mr. Kissin, a week after his compatriot Arcardi Volodos, it was the latter who won the competition "hands down," this time, Kissin had no trouble prevailing as the superior artist. His expressiveness, his utilization of the dynamic range, and his sense of coloring made for an immediately involving performance. Searching and with a low brooding growing into rolling thunder, the second Polonaise from op. 16 followed. Subtle rubato and explosive charges, mood changes that turned on a dime were all admirable. And while it is true that Evgeny Kissin moves around quite a bit, it is neither as gratuitous as Lang Lang's schtick nor in contrast to inexpressive playing. Kissin's playing alone demands all the attention. When he sways back and forth, it does not add to the music, but does not
detract or distract, either.

Impromptus were next—A-flat major (op. 29), F-sharp major (op. 36), G-flat major (op. 51), and C-sharp minor (op. 66)—and they were all shaped masterfully, every detail turned... and even a series of extraneous noises (at least six cell phones went off during the concert, and apart from the usual coughcophony, every five minutes someone seemed to be dropping their loose change or car keys or unwrapping candy) could not lessen the delight that it was to listen him. Not by much, at any rate.

The Fantasie Impromptu in C-sharp Minor, op. 66—interrupted by cell phones again—was astounding for the virtuosity and control with which Kissin delivered it. From the furiously fast runs of the opening to the lyrical to the rapturous to pianissimo trills that were hardly there, the playing was stunning. Two polonaises rounded off the generous all-Chopin half. The polonaises in C minor, op. 40, and A-flat major, op. 53, only further corroborated the point that Kissin is above all a marvelous Chopin interpreter, on a level which only a handful of his peers attain. His Chopin has excitement to spare, is bold, but never neglects the softer lyrical sides of Chopin which are, contrary to popular opinion perhaps, comparatively rare, anyway. As I like my Chopin played with—excuse my language—balls so big that they hang down to the floor—this distinctively Russian way with Chopin's last, grand Polonaise was simply
spellbinding.

Nikolai Medtner is a wonderful Russian composer, almost as underrepresented now as he was a gifted composer. His sonata hybrids, like the Sonata Reminiscenza in A minor, op. 38, no. 1. that Kissin presented in the second half are well worth listening to. This particular work (punctuated by dry coughs, preferably in pianissimo sections) is a reflective musical meandering, contracting and expanding and dotted with ferocious interludes that give the Romantic virtuoso everything he needs to showcase his abilities. If those are as bountiful as Kissin's, the Sonata Reminiscenza becomes a memorable little gem. With a lesser artist in charge, I suppose it would make me question its musical merits.

Available from Amazon: Igor Stravinsky, Pétroushka Suite, Maurizio Pollini

Stravinsky's Pétroushka Suite is probably the most difficult work in the mainstream repertoire, which usually ignores the likes of Godowsky, Alkan, and Kapustin. Maurizio Pollini's recording of it offers some of the best quartersome hour of piano playing on record. Where Pollini has Kissin on clarity and "pronunciation," Kissin—apart from the inherently unfair comparison of a recorded to a live performance—gave splashes of extra color and, to my delight, a touch of rawness that makes the core of Stravinksy's ballets.

Stravinsky's piano versions of his scores, when well performed, never make me wish for the orchestral garb and they certainly don't sound like "reductions." What Kissin delivered, in the Suite as for the entire evening—fully deserved the overused description of "brilliant"!

The audience, inexcusably noisy as it was during the concert, thanked Kissin with enthusiastic standing ovations and, more meaningfully, by staying in the hall. Relentless applause almost forced Kissin to delight with four encores: a Liszt transcription of Chopin's The Maiden's Wish, Moskowsky's Spanish Caprice (which had the audience stunned into submission), Earl Wild's transcription of the Pas de deux of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake, and finally Godowsky's Viennese-melancholic The Old Piano.

Evgeny Kissin in Paris

Russian pianist Evgeny Kissin will be playing here in Washington this coming April (thanks to the Washington Performing Arts Society). Last weekend, on October 30, Kissin played a rather different program in Paris, with the Orchestre National de France, conducted by Kurt Masur, at the Théâtre des Champs-Elysées. Alain Lompech reviewed the concert (Au Théâtre des Champs-Elysées, le piano solitaire d'Evgeny Kissin, November 2) for Le Monde:

This Saturday evening, October 30, almost a half-hour before the start of the second concert presenting all five Beethoven piano concertos, by pianist Evgeny Kissin, . . . a dense crowed was huddling in front of the doors of the Théâtre des Champs-Elysées, on the Avenue Montaigne, in Paris. As the night before, many unfortunate people take their chances with their little signs marked, in large red letters, "Need tickets." [...]

The first evening, he was playing the first three concertos, which was a musical disappointment at the same time as it was a stunning pianistic performance. Tonight, Kissin began with the fourth concerto. . . . From the pianistic point of view, there's almost nothing to say: Kissin's fingers are stunningly precise, his sound luminous, if perhaps a little too metallic. The playing lacks continuity, suppleness. Each note, in the fastest passages, sounds with blinding clarity. Scales and arpeggios rise and fall without any irregularity. Trills sound effortlessly. Impeccable. [...]

But is that Beethoven's Fourth? Where did the phrases go? Where were the tender inflections, the painful replies? There are only exclamation points underlining the ends of phrases, brutal accents that tell the orchestra that it is their turn to respond. An orchestra with whom the pianist does not establish any dialogue at all, despite Masur's attempts. Kissin's playing seems designed on a plan that allows no input. Follow me! seems to be the young pianist's creed.

This being a French newspaper, the reviewer chooses to end with a quotation from Voltaire: "The voice in his throat was too strong to say the least subtle thing." There's a great picture of Masur and Kissin here.