New York Classical Review

Lack of certainty is an underrated quality in classical music. The norm is to value repertoire performances that aren’t just technically precise but have a sense that the ideas about the music are accepted and settled; that hearing something in concert should be as neat and satisfying as playing a familiar record.

But that reinforces the notion that classical music is a set of artifacts from the past. This is absolutely contradicted by the fact then when music is played, it is alive in the present. It should be approached that way, even if, in that moment, the musicians haven’t quite figured out what they think about it.

And that was pianist Bruce Liu’s Carnegie Hall recital Friday night, which offered music making that was frequently successful, sometimes wrong, but always compelling.

The young pianist opened with Ligeti’s Etude No. 4, “Fanfares,” likely the most frequently played of Ligeti’s set.  Liu handled it entirely differently than one has heard. After an ominously quiet launch, he gradually started shifting the rhythmic emphasis and accents in the piece, trying to displace the pulse the way Beethoven does. Except this made everything sound wrong-footed and idiosyncratic in a way  that didn’t really work.

Yet Bach’s French Suite No. 5 was not only a marvelous performance, but a chance to see what Liu was getting at. This was how ideas about pianism span eras, how different composers made use of the multiple lines available on the instrument, and the stylistic pleasures of a twisting gruppetto or a trill that moves from dissonance to resolution. This was a singing performance, with a light, ringing touch in the Allemande and Courante, and an ultra-stylish Bourrée. Textures were transparent and full of light.

Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 21,  the “Waldstein,” was also terrific. Liu’s superb technique supported a clear, smart, and personal approach to the music’s shape. He was judicious about how to push the densest passages, which highlighted how avant-garde they are, and used the Adagio more as a static interlude than a long harmonic setup for the finale. On a finer interpretive level, he used rubato in surprising places and amounts in the coda, and it showed a seamlessness to his whole approach.

One thing that was consistently fine about the first half was the feeling that Liu was relishing the pianism in the music, the counterpoint, the twists and turns of the right hand, and power and velocity in Beethoven. On the surface, there were similar ideas in this music to the first half that fit close to Ligeti and Bach, but it felt like there was a logical gap in the argument— a Scarlatti Sonata would have made the connection work.

After intermission, he played Chopin, then Spanish music from Ravel, Mompou, Albeniz, and Liszt.

After moody, atmospheric performances of the two Op. 27 Nocturnes, Liu took on, as a near-medley, Ravel’s “Alborado del gracioso,” Mompou’s Glossa and Fantasia “sobre Au clair de lune,” Albeniz’s “El Puerto” from his Iberia, and finally Liszt’s Rhapsodie Espagnole. The fingers were willing—this was bravura execution, especially in Ravel and Liszt—but the mind wasn’t quite right.

Liu laid a Beethovenian attitude over this music, and this chased away the spirit and charm in Mompou and, especially and tragically, Ravel. If the first half had an unexpected and successful light tough, this time around he was too heavy. Albeniz suited him better in that it held the weight better, and Liszt seemed closest to his heart. His playing was again bravura, and the hands, head, and heart were fully connected. Liu used the variations to build a textured scaffold of expression and excitement. 

Call it a fascinating, well played, often knotty and unresolved argument of a performance. The crowd was thrilled by the speed and dynamics, and brought him back for three encores. The first was a placid, rhythmically even performance of a Bach-Siloti Prelude, which was enough to cleanse the ear and settle the mind. Responding to the audience’s demand, he returned with a fluid, moody posthumous Chopin Nocturne No. 20, and then in the end a real surprise, a fiery finale to Beethoven’s “Moonlight” Sonata. As a unit, these made the most sense on the evening.

Mao Fujita plays Beethoven, Wagner, Berg, Mendelssohn, Brahms and Liszt 8 p.m. March 4. carnegiehall.org