Concert Review: The Quickness of the Hand

András Schiff conducts the New York Philharmonic.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Up from the piano: soloist and conductor András Schiff.
Image courtesy the New York Philharmonic.

The Bach Variations, the New York Philharmonic's month-long excursion into the repertory of Johann Sebastian Bach, came to a fitting end this week with concerts featuring Hungarian pianist and conductor András Schiff. But where Mr. Schiff is known for his international appearances as a virtuoso concerto guest and solo performer, these concerts cast him in the less familiar role of conductor,  both from the keyboard and later, the podium.

Concert Review: Attack of the Killer B's

András Schiff at Carnegie Hall

Marathon man: András Schiff played Bach, Bartók and Beethoven at Carnegie Hall.
Photo © 2010 ECM Classics.

In New York City, Halloween is a night when kids put on silly costumes and parade door-to-door under careful parental supervision. Older kids hide in the bushes and "bomb" each other with eggs and shaving cream. Overgrown kids gather on Sixth Avenue and parade down it in a big, gaudy Halloween parade through Greenwich Village.

The Hungarian pianist András Schiff did none of those things last night. But he did offer a carefully planned program of Bach, Bartók and Beethoven as part of his Carnegie Hall Perspectives series. The marathon recital was designed to demonstrate the musicological connections between these three composers.

The concert opened with Bach's Three-Part Inventions, exercises for the keyboard meant to teach Bach's pupils (including his children) the art of writing fugues. These pieces move in a tonal cycle, exploring different aspects of the various keys. Mr. Schiff displayed a gentle, smooth touch, playing the complex phrases with very little pedal.

The pianist unleashed his full fury on the Piano Sonata by Bela Bartók. Mr. Schiff's countryman is at the center of the Perspectives series this season, and this performance presented a good argument for his lone Sonata. Echoes of modern Russian music can be heard here as well, the unforgiving rhythms of The Rite of Spring and the steely pianism of Serge Prokofiev.  

Mr. Schiff dug into the difficult opening movement, playing the staccato figures with tenacity and guts. The second movement was more eloquent, almost singing as it moved through its slow passage. The third was a manic dance of fingers upon the keys, a stirring example of the composer's characteristic folk-inspired rhythms. 

The presence of Beethoven's Diabelli Variations on a recital program is an anachronism. This set of 33 variations on a waltz by an Italian publisher was not conceived as "recital music." Beethoven, asked in 1819 to write one simple variation, pounded out 33, finishing them in 1823. Why? It wasn't to give them in recital. At this point, Beethoven was too deaf to play in public, and the solo piano recital (as we know it) would not be invented (by Liszt) until 1839. 

Never mind. Beethoven summed up everything he knew about piano playing in these pages, barely changing keys as he . Almost all of the first 28 are in C major, from the stately Andante to a galloping Allegro. He tips the hat to Bach (No. 24 and 32) and Mozart, (No. 22) when the reconfigured waltz transforms into a version of "Notte e giorno faticar" from Don Giovanni.  The last four movements shift keys to the minor, leading to a heaven-storming fugue. 

Mr. Schiff approached most of the variations as individual pieces, although he did let certain ones flow into each other when it seemed fitting. Listening to a record of any pianist  play this cycle straight through forces the listener to exercise both patience and concentration. Seeing the Diabelli Variations played live, by an artist of Mr. Schiff's caliber, is nothing short of a miracle.

For his encore, Mr. Schiff treated the audience to another major work: Beethoven's Piano Sonata No. 30. One of the composer's last, it is itself equipped with a mighty set of variations in the final movement. With exquisite playing, Mr. Schiff held the audience rapt.

Concert Review: The Rising Force

The Budapest Festival Orchestra takes Carnegie Hall.

Budapest Festival Orchestra conductor Iván Fischer.

This year the Budapest Festival Orchestra has built a strong reputation with New York audiences. Last spring, Iván Fischer's band roared through The Rite of Spring.  Last summer, they offered a compelling, fully-staged Don Giovanni at Mostly Mozart. Saturday night's concert at Carnegie Hall, featuring the music of Bartók and Schubert only added to that legacy.

Mr. Fischer chose an unusual seating arrangement for his players. Woodwinds were placed at the front, with the principal oboe in front of the concertmaster. All the bassists used five-string instruments. They were dead center, behind the brass. Other players moved around depending on which piece was being played.

The program opened with a Bartók rarity: settings of Hungarian Peasant Songs. These works were played with firm brass tones (especially from the trombones) and delicate, playful work from the oboe and clarinet. The tuba, moved to the front for these pieces enjoyed great prominence. Following what seems to be a trend among orchestras this year, Mr. Fischer had his violins and violas play these songs standing up.

The orchestra was joined by soloist András Schiff for Bartók's Second Piano Concerto. Mr. Schiff remains a sublime pianist, bringing out the lyric beauty in Bartok's high-speed, staccato keyboard figures and displaying a smooth legato. The solo part seemed to spill from his fingers in the slow second movement, accompanied by Mr. Fischer with a delicate, pointillist beauty. It's not surprising that these two Hungarian musicians work in a smooth tandem--they recorded all three Bartók concertos together for Teldec. Moreover, they were at school together.

Mr. Schiff held the Hall rapt in the last movement. His hands fluttered and dove over the keyboard, at one point bouncing out the melody in the high register with his right as his left raced up the lower regions. It was stunning playing, met with an enthusiastic reception. The soloist obliged the adulation with a pair of encores: a Schubert Impromptu and Liszt's lyrical Hungarian Rhapsody No. 5.

Schubert's Ninth Symphony sat in a drawer at the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde in Vienna for a decade. In 1838, ten years after Schubert's death, it was shown to composer/critic Robert Schumann. Dubbed the "Great" Symphony, the Ninth has since become an orchestra standard, the most popular Schubert symphony besides the "Unfinished."

Mr. Fischer's interpretation did much to blow the dust from this well-traveled score. Schubert's innovative combination of wind, horns and trombone stands at the core of this work, and Mr. Fischer's choice to move the winds forward led to a superbly balanced sound. 

A noble, searching horn theme started the first movement, taken here at a slightly fast pace. Mr. Fischer maintained this momentum through the work, letting the eloquence of Schubert's echoing conversation between winds and strings speak for itself. The climax of the opening movement surged with joy and power that belied the composer's dire last years. 

The two dance movements, a fleet-footed Andante and joyful Scherzo also featured expert playing from the Budapest winds. Mr. Fischer drew extra reserves of power for the final Allegro, bringing the argument of this long symphony to a giddy climax. The last phrases, with staccato trumpets and stomping tuba sounded like a happy round dance, a rustic celebration in the tradition of Beethoven's Sixth.

The orchestra ended with what Mr. Fischer announced as their traditional encore: a cheerful and very Hungarian dance. It was a strong end to a solid program, another feather in the cap for this excellent, innovative and rapidly rising European orchestra.