Gerstein’s virtuosity serves the greater musical good with Liszt, Ravel and Coll
Virtuosity, in its essence, is subtle and humble. The ability to play an instrument with velocity and precise articulation is an obvious skill and often an exciting one. But the reason one needs that level of skill is because there is important music that requires the ability to handle extreme demands of instrumental technique.
Pianist Kirill Gerstein demonstrated this Friday night at Carnegie Hall. He played a concert that had some of the most technically challenging music in the piano repertoire, like Ravel’s La Valse and an entire second half dedicated to Liszt, including the B Minor Sonata. His playing reached astonishing levels of dexterity, and that meant the music that came through him and off the piano was just as astonishing. Pieces that are usually heard as dense, and thrilling for that kind of weighty, impactful energy, were lithe and luminous.
In front of a surprisingly light crowd, Gerstein opened with Schumann’s Carnaval. This laid down a marker for the rest of the evening, with an unusually fast, clear and precise “Préambule.” This was a young man’s Carnaval, played with a loping energy that went against the grain of the usual interpretations but that felt perfect for some of Schumann’s most youthful music. The “Eusebius” vignette was sweet, “Florestan” balanced fire and charm. Played with only a few tiny pauses between the sections, this had a flow and completeness that integrated the entire work. The “Davidsbündler” march was proud and cheeky, a feeling of honesty about the music.
Gerstein finished the first half with La Valse, but first played the New York premiere of new music by Francisco Coll, Two Waltzes Toward Civilization (after Lorca’s Poet in New York). As fascinating as the title is and its emulation of Lora’s poetic search for place, the music was even more so.
In two sections—one agitated, the other less so—the piece grabs standard clichés of romantic era pianism and does the equivalent of smashing them apart then twisting and stretching the fragments before tossing them away and picking up the next. The remarkable thing in the composing is that—though scattered and promiscuous—the music has a clear through-line. Gleeful and irreverent, Gerstein tackled this with punch and a sense of fun. The composer on hand to acknowledge the hearty applause.
La Valse was intensely stormy, the most romantic performance in an evening bookended by major works of the era. At times, one missed the colors of the full orchestration of the piece, and the inability of the piano to create a crescendo on a sustained note meant that Gerstein focussed on the storminess in the bass and pressed the darkness throughout the music. Thus, moments of light were even brighter. This is also the piece in which the pianist relinquished some control for a thrilling wildness. And still, the amazing technique was there, Gerstein somehow creating the illusion of whooshing crescendoes in the stretch up to the final bars.
Gerstein dedicated the second half to the memory of architect Rafael Viñoly, who passed away last year. This was an incredible Liszt journey, structured as a remarkable medley beginning with the “Bénédiction de Dieu dans la solitude” from Harmonies poétiques et religieuses.
The pianist’s technical skill meant that he made Liszt sound almost easy. Rather than impressing one with the difficulties of the music, one instead heard exceptional clarity and feeling. The “Bénédiction” had great poise and repose, and a kind of deliberate verticality to the chords and connecting phrases that created a chamber of solitude and meditation. This was not just beautiful, but pure.
With just the briefest pause after the Benediction, holding on to the tension of the hushed mystery in the hall, Gerstein begin the B minor Sonata. Even the intense, turgid beginning seemed to pose no challenges for Gerstein. He used the repeated theme as a way to reset and restate the music, exploring ideas of meaning from different angles, through different doors. Each section that built and rebuilt structural complexity sounded completely organic, as natural as breathing.
His right hand gliding over the keyboard produced a lustrous tone that gradually mesmerized the listener. The atmosphere was incredible, Gerstein holding the listener in suspended time, seeming to invent a well-known piece so that it sounded like a premiere. And always, a steady pulse that, because it was certain and predictable, heightened both tension and release as each rise and fall of the music approached. The luminous quiet of the final notes in the bass, the high major chord, was one of the more extraordinary things one has heard.
Gerstein came out for two encores, both waltzes, a fast, delirious one from Chopin, a relaxed, nocturnal one by Rachmaninoff, as fine and flowing as everything else.
Hélène Grimaud plays Beethoven, Brahms, and Bach, 8 p.m., December 11. carnegiehall.org
One Response to “Gerstein’s virtuosity serves the greater musical good with Liszt, Ravel and Coll”
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Posted Dec 10, 2024 at 1:24 pm by Richard Finkelstein
We heard Gerstein repeat the concert in a more intimate setting that surprisingly was also not a sellout. Again, especially in the Liszt, Gerstein was in a “zone” seemingly oblivious to us the audience yet we were transported to a similar trance like space that was glorious and mesmerizing. The whole recital felt like a feast with a well thought out blend of musical “tastes” that felt most satisfying by the end. An amazing talent.