San Francisco Classical Voice

February 12, 1999

Evgeny Kissin

In an all-Chopin recital at Davies Hall on Friday, Evgeny Kissin revealed himself to be a virtuoso pianist who has clearly etched conceptions of the works he performs. The first half of the program was devoted to the 24 Preludes, Opus 28. These were performed with a vigorous sense of the dramatic progression of events through each prelude, culminating in the violent, appassionato outburst of #24 in D minor.

To achieve maximum contrast between the Preludes, Kissin employed his very considerable keyboard powers. He has a broad dynamic range, and he is able to negotiate breakneck tempos when he feels the occasion demands. The results, however, while impressive, were not always deeply satisfying. One felt, at times, that the virtuosity was there for its own sake rather than for any way that it illuminated the music. In the more contemplative preludes, a cool, contrived sentimentality took the place of direct, heartfelt, warmth and tenderness. The arc of a phrase, suggested by its opening thrust, was frequently disrupted by hesitations. The continual habit, (or intention,) of not playing the hands together, which might have served to bring out the counterpoint, had instead, a jarring, vertical effect. Still, the overall vision of this monumental work made a lively impression, and was pianistically impressive.

The second half of the program was devoted to the Barcarolle, opus 60, and the Sonata No. 2, opus 35. Here, the musical stance of the performer was not helpful to the music. The Barcarolle became dislodged from its rhythmic moorings. The elemental organic pulse was too often sacrificed to excessive rubatos in the treble ornaments. The unsynchronized hands were apparent throughout. Kissin seemed to see this work as a romantic Venetian trifle, a genre piece, wholly lacking the depth, and the more searching lyricism actually to be found there.

Chopin's second Sonata is a work that began life as the Funeral March composed in 1837. Two years later Chopin added the other three movements to complete the work. The March, and its sublime, D flat major interlude, form the spiritual and musical core of the composition. Kissin's view of this movement was at the center of his conception of the entire sonata. The March itself was steely, unconditional, something almost inhuman, a bleak vision indeed. And this vision extended into the interlude, which was played with ponderous weight, as if the oppression of the Funeral March obliterated even this poignant moment of hope.

This rejection of warmth and tenderness, the essential, noble fragility of Chopin's Sonata, extended to the first two movements as well, and much of the inner dramatic dialogue, between absolute force and tender desire and reflection, was severely diminished. Curiously, the very brief Presto Finale was over-pedaled and inflected, as if the performer were not entirely convinced of the desolate image that he had just conjured up.

Evgeny Kissen is a powerful and gifted artist, and he is thoughtful about the music he performs. I wish he conveyed more joy in the playing of it. His concert was serious show business, but tenderness and the joyous abandon of natural, musical spontaneity were scarcely to be found. The audience, responding to his great virtuosity and dramatic poise, gave him a sustained and enthusiastic ovation and coaxed from him a number of Chopin encores before happily retiring.

(Paul Hersh is a pianist and violist, and, since 1972, the James D. Robertson Professor of Piano at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music.)

©1999 Paul Hersh, all rights reserved