About two decades ago, I had the privilege of attending a recital of the world-renowned violinist Ida Haendal at Place des Arts. Despite her world–renowned, even legendary status, the recital hall was barely half full, and some said the general prognosis for recitals as a viable practice was somewhat bleak.
How heartwarming, then, that on last Thursday, Oct. 2, there were barely any seats left in spacious Bourgie Hall, as an eager audience soaked up the Montreal solo recital debut of Norwegian pianist Leif Ove Andsnes. This marked only the third time he has played in Montreal in his 35-year career, and his performance was clearly an event for those who appreciate the art of the piano.
Andsnes gave a commanding performance of three Romantic works: his compatriot Edvard Grieg’s (1843–1907) Piano Sonata in E minor, op. 7, and Robert Schumann’s (1810–1856) masterwork Carnaval, op. 9 in the first half; and Frederic Chopin’s (1809–1849) Twenty-Four Preludes, op. 28 in the second.
Photo: Julia Marois
Pianists approach their artistry from different perspectives. Some give an existential performance, wrestling with the piano as a director or conductor wrestles with a play or orchestral score. Others are poets, enveloping each element of the composer’s work with their personal, inner perspective. Andsnes is a painter, meticulously putting down layer after layer of sound to create grand-scale tableaus with a clear vision for the finished canvas. He even brought a bit of his own equipment—a wooden lid prop longer than the one provided with the Steinway piano.
The first movement of Grieg’s sonata seemed to be a feeling out of the audience, but by the second, Andsnes was displaying the vivid tone he used for the soaring melodies in all the slower elements of the evening, drawing the audience into his vision.
Schumann’s Carnaval gave Andsnes the opportunity to show how quickly he is able to completely change character as he navigated its 21 parts. The sections are an exploration of scenes related to pre-Lent festive traditions, but also a deep dive into symbolic representations, alliterations, characterizations, and extra-musical content, only some of which is obvious to the listener without the score in front of them or the time to dissect it. Andsnes is clearly a bosom-friend with the grand piano, meaning that he knows exactly how it will react. This allows him to dependably play ethereal, pianissimo chords or subtly bring out inner melodies and counter-melodies with apparent ease.
It is now a (somewhat regrettable) trend to play parts of the Carnaval at truly breakneck speeds, and Andsnes was not an exception. I would have liked to be able to digest some of Schumann’s harmonic choices that whizzed by all too quickly. Hats off, though, for the rendition of Paganini (Schumann’s stylization of an etude by the brilliant violinist) which was not only virtuosically brilliant, but managed to keep the listener on track despite the offset rhythm of the left hand.
Photo: Julia Marois
The Chopin Preludes offered a different vision. Andsnes took a meatier, bold approach—hurling the loud and fast preludes at the audience, and opting for intensity rather than intimacy in the others. Giving the entire opus a definite trajectory rather than playing a pastiche of short pieces is a challenge, one that did not phase Leif. Though the Preludes were conceived, or at least collected, as a cohesive whole (mirroring Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier), Chopin never performed the work in its entirety (though many other pianists have done so), and the individual pieces are often played separately.
Rarely does a piano student go through their education without having played at least one, and certain preludes (e.g., the “Raindrop” prelude) are often a student’s introduction to Chopin. The presence in the audience of many pianists, piano students, and piano teachers was evident, and this gave the second half of the recital an added dimension as concertgoers were clearly waiting for certain preludes and then drinking in Andsnes’ interpretation.
This recital was the first of Bourgie Hall’s Outstanding Pianists series, and the verdict was that the Andsnes was, in fact, outstanding. He was obliged to give two encores—Debussy and Grieg—and La cathédrale engloutie (Debussy, Preludes, Book I) in particular made a strong impression.
Andsnes set a high bar for a busy season of pianists at Bourgie Hall. The next opportunity will be on Oct. 5 when Kristian Bezuidenhout will take the stage with the Quator Consone.
