Press Service KD Schmid

Translation

Medium: Sächsische Zeitung Circulation: 234.774 Date: 26.05.15

Young, Sensitive, Irresistible

Not Afraid of Warhorses: Pianist Jan Lisiecki Sets a Fast Pace for Grieg’s Concerto

By Jens-Uwe Sommerschuh

There he stood at the edge of the stage, Jan Lisiecki in a storm of applause, tall and lanky, just turned 20 in March. He smiled shyly and gave the flowers to violinist Juliette Kang, on behalf of the entire Philadelphia . He knew that the special moment was also thanks to the orchestra.

For three years the Philadelphians, who are one of the Big Five US , have been led by Yannick Nézet-Séguin, the successor to such greats as Muti, Eschenbach, and Dutoit. He is also a Canadian with European ancestors, exactly twice as old as the pianist, and a head and a half shorter, a podium master, a bundle of energy in the style of a trainer who never lets his team lose.

The Americans’ interpretation of Mixed Messages, a work written expressly for Philadelphia by the composing boy wonder Nico Muhly and premiered eleven days earlier, was powerful. Sensitive resonance, taut elasticity, great transparency – it was as though Muhly had injected his “messages” directly into the orchestra’s blood. This swelling and pulsating seemed to come from deep within; the audience was already moved in a mysterious way when the pianist entered the scene.

Jan Lisiecki’s parents went from to , where he was born in in 1995. He made his orchestra debut at the age of nine, when others are learning the multiplication tables. He was fourteen when he appeared as soloist at the celebration marking the 200th anniversary of Chopin’s birth in the composer’s native city of Żelasowa Wola and shortly afterwards in Cannes, at the prestigious MIDEM Classical Awards, performed Chopin’s E minor Concerto. He has already played for the Queen, and the New York Times wrote that he is “a pianist who makes every note count.” That may sound strange at first, but it indicates characteristics that Lisiecki developed early: meticulousness and precision. Even when he finds it difficult at times – he is not a robot – he is never sloppy. He is a pianist who immerses himself in the special character of a work and asks questions. It is no accident when he sets a fast pace for “warhorses” of the concerto literature or frees classics like Mozart’s D minor Concerto of highly romantic exaggeration.

At the Semperoper on Sunday he tackled Edvard Grieg’s A minor Concerto, a work which has had to endure a good deal of bombast. The orchestra did not roll out a thick carpet but rather smooth linen and, later, silken cloths. After the energetic chords with which Lisiecki made his presence known, he delved concentratedly into Grieg’s ornate intricacies. This concerto often sounds exuberant and electrifying. Lisiecki’s playing was irresistible but in a Press Service KD Schmid

Translation more sensitive way. He varied the rubato, built up tension and let it subside again. He established resting points, which made supposedly incidental details like the elegiac horn solo exciting. The powerful surge at the end of the first movement. The gentle melancholy in the Adagio, almost enveloped with tenderness by the orchestra. The seamless hops and turns in the finale, inspired by the halling, a leaping dance with which Norwegians used to frighten the elk – as a figure, a delicacy.

Lisiecki is technically brilliant but without a tendency towards the acrobatic or artistic. He restrains himself, goes inward, explores the textures. During his Chopin encore, the already transcendental C sharp minor Nocturne, it was so intense that it hurt – not only the audience but himself as well. How does a twenty-year-old manage to evoke such feeling? Some mystery must remain. There was a standing ovation.

Tears of Joy in the Orchestra

Still to come was Tchaikovsky’s Fifth Symphony in E minor, which had what it takes to push everything heard up to that point aside, since it can sound extremely evocative. It did sound like that, but in an expansive, at times surprisingly subdued, clear-cut way. Yannick Nézet-Séguin displayed a light, unemotional sound, made the familiar waltz dance, with close partner leading and little leg, almost hesitant but very sexy. The roaming fate motif, which wandered from the clarinets to the brass to the dark strings, was able to festively free itself from the somber minor in the Finale. The diminutive conductor was on the verge of shouting for joy, and many of his musicians had tears in their eyes. Another standing ovation. Such artistry is more than service to the work and the customer but rather a relinquishing of the soul. An excessive of extraordinary freshness. For many, also the concert at which they heard Lisiecki for the first time.

Photo caption: Tall and young and wide awake – the up-and-coming pianist Jan Lisiecki won ovations at the Music Festival.