The Concert Pianist

Kissin managed to suprise me once more!
I was listening to his recording of Brahms' Second Hungarian Dance (in RCA). It's such a lively and dynamic account of this beautiful dance! One can easily discern Kissin's rare musical qualities: the perfect control of his sound, a huge tonal palette and an incredible dynamism - all these elements make for an altogether exceptional case of pianist. Some of his recordings remain unsurpassable for me - take, for instance, his extraordinary performance of Liszt's "Chasse-Neige" transcedental study.

I sometimes wonder - and I want to put this down on my diary as sincerely as I can: what sort of happiness can really be found in living the life of a concert pianist? Kissin travels all the time around the globe giving concerts (I presume) every other day. I honestly wonder, how can happiness and inner peace be reconciled with a life of constant traveling, staying all the time in gloomy hotel rooms, loneliness, practicing all the time, playing for thousand of unknown people who are (in their vast majority) ready to bury the pianist at his first mistake or an unsuccessful rendering of a work, with being always on perfect and immaculate form...

I wish I had Kissin to explain to me what are the pleasures and consolations of such a life... I suppose that he might have replied that it is in music that he finds the source of every joy; yet again, I fail to understand how music - much as I adore it- can represent such an exclusively important factor in life, how it can, per se, make life meaningful.

What's wrong with Rach 4?...

I was walking to work this morning, under a merciless Greek sun, and suddenly the haunting melody of the first movement of Rachmaninoff's Fourth Piano Concerto came into my mind. And I began wondering why this work is not as popular as its precedents. I know that Rachmaninoff tried several revisions of the work but with no apparent success.

So, what's wrong with Rach 4?

Let me first say that, in my view, it is an interesting work, with some really fine moments. It has at least two absolutely beautiful, long melodic lines, so typical of R. The orchestral part is masterly composed, and so is, of course, the solo part.
An aspect which works against this concerto is the fact that one cannot av0id the comparison with the previous three ... And one can easily see that, while the first three concertos are definately masterpieces, the fourth does not quite deserve the same credit!

As I was walking this morning, I brought to mind the first movement, and I think one would agree that it is the finest of the three - a wonderful opening theme, briliantly exposed and developed, a very lyrical and also melancholic middle theme and an unpredictable ending. I think it was Nikolai Lugansky who said that in this movement we meet R in his darkest and saddest moments. He is right-there is a dark quality in the work, but the feeling that personally overwhelms me is that of a deep nostalgia and unfulfilled longing - maybe for his homeland (the concerto was composed in the US), for his youth... I don't know...


The problems begin with the second movement... Yes, the theme is nice and the dialogue between the piano and the orchestra interesting, but the endless repetition of the same idea makes it rather tiresome and possibly boring. And the third movement (possibly the least inspired of all), although it begins brilliantly, seems to lack shape and continuity, does not have a guiding musical principle or idea, it doesn't convey a spontaneous message.

The Rachmaninoff Concertos... I've spent all my life listening them, playing (some of) them, studying them... They constitute a vital part of my musical self... And I feel that I carry them with me, in my heart and in my mind.

...Since I mentioned Lugansky, here is the first movement of the Concerto performed by him. (His recordings of the Rachmaninoff Piano Concertos are among the finest I've ever come across)...

Yesterday's Concert

I think it went rather well in the end. It was of course a small venue, the audience made up mostly of friends but I must confess that I 'd rather play for a handful of persons I love than perform in front of hundreds of unknown faces. Rhapsody in blue was a big success, of course - everyone loved it.

Yet Spyros told me half-jokingly that he will never play with me again! He was referring to the fact that I had a tendency to rush a bit in terms of tempo, which is a very unsettling experience if you are not on your own. He is right actually - esp the Shubert Fantasia was a bit unstable tempo-wise, and I am the one to be blamed for that.

My Rachmaninoff was, I think, more or less ok, though there were some wrong notes, as always. It could have been better... Same with Bach, although I felt it went better than the Rachmaninoff.

All in all, it was a nice occasion - a warm and friendly atmosphere. My two young sons came to the concert - their "first", I think! They seemed happy afterwards. I was thinking, God knows, some time I may be the one to go to their concert!...

Before the concert...

I find myself again in an all-too-familiar “pre-concert mood”…

I am playing, together with a good friend of mine, next Wednesday, at a Conservatoire down in the centre of Athens. Actually, this is the conservatoire where I studied, ages ago.

This is the first time that I have done a joint recital: the program consists of a combination of solo pieces and works for four hands. My solo contribution will be Bach’s “Concerto After Marcello”, a wonderful – though not so well-known transcription of a concerto for oboe written by Alessandro Marcello-, and then two Rachmaninoff pieces. Spyros (a wonderful pianist) will play Chopin and Debussy.

We will in the end play a most interesting version of Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue”, for four hands, written by Henry Levine. I had initially my doubts about this one, but when I saw and studied the score (by the way it has never been performed in Greece before, I gather), I’ve realised that it “works” well for the piano, and I am really looking forward to it…

Now, what’s that “pre-concert mood”?...

It’s something strange really, it’s like a general negativity towards anything related to music, piano and the like. It is as if an aversion to what I am doing overcomes me one week before any concert, and I cannot find a way to escape this feeling. It has, of course, psychological grounds, related possibly to the stress that one experiences before any important event. Still, it’s quite annoying! I am unable to enjoy my concerts while performing – only afterwards: then, immediately, the perspective shifts again, everything goes back to normal. But again, the challenge to “live the present moment” seems to have been lost. How sad.

Yet, on another level, this strange mood has a positive effect on me. For instance, I often feel forced to sort of stop and think about myself – who am I, where am I going, why am I doing this etc... I don’t expect rational answers to all these endless questions but somehow I feel that the fact alone that I ask them (seriously, not superfluously that is) helps cultivate a growing sense of self-awareness, which is crucial. If this is true, then maybe all concerts also have “consequences” which are unrelated to music - they have served as signposts in an internal procedure towards maturity.

We have another 5 days until the concert, so I may come back on the subject…