San Francisco Classical Voice

We all have our secret passions. I had hoped that William Wellborn's recital, entitled "The Age of the Parisian Virtuoso," would be more than the typical piano recital that offers only certified masterpieces of the hallowed past. The first half of Mr. Wellborn's concert in Friday's Old First Church concert began and ended with works that had excited great enthusiasm in the 1830s and '40s. Their composers, the rock stars of their day, dazzled audiences with their technical prowess and showmanship, for the piano was becoming the solo instrument par excellence, both in middle-class homes and in the concert hall. From among the glittering showpieces,Wellborn selected three short works plus a movement from the gigantic Symphonie for Piano Solo by Charles Valentin Alkan

Most pianists are discouraged by the length and difficulty of the recluse Alkan's major works. Sometimes bizarre but basically musical, his output is definitely deserving of revival. I found Wellborn's playing of all four Alkan selections to be completely idiomatic and convincing. The haunting barcarolle was especially lovely with its unpredictable vacillation from major to minor, and the "Little Song" was simply and affectingly played. In the Minuet (from the Symphonie) it was fascinating to hear the influence of Chopin (G-sharp minor prelude). Wellborn made me want to hear the whole Symphonie played in its entirety -- by him.

Henri Herz and Sigismond Thalberg were primarily performers, and their "compositions" were vehicles for showmanship and pianistic "effects" rather than musical profundity. No one would dream of comparing their music to the monumental works of masters like Beethoven and Schubert, which had been created only a few years previously for instruments not nearly so brilliant and responsive as the pianos Herz and Thalberg wrote for.

Herz's Variations on Rossini's "Non piu mesta," with its glittering runs and broken chords, bubbled along as if for the sheer joy of the ease and brilliance that the new French pianos afforded. Although Wellborn acknowledged the confectionery qualities of the music in remarks he made after playing it, his affection for the piece was obvious.

Even more effective was Thalberg's Caprice on Meyerbeer's La Prophète, which closed the first half. Thalberg was considered a rival to Liszt, and Chopin even briefly considered studying with him. Musically more interesting than Herz, his effects are better too. Like Horowitz, he wowed audiences by giving the illusion they were hearing performances by three hands instead of two. Wellborn lavished much love on the somewhat-faded charms of this piece. But his commitment was total, and he tossed off the difficulties with a winning ease and flair.

In the context of the "Parisian Virtuosos," it became clear why Chopin declined to study with Thalberg. If Chopin's early nocturnes seem to belong to the world of Herz and Thalberg, it is only for the first few bars. Their daring modulations connect them much more to Bach and Mozart than to the relatively conservative harmonic practice of Rossini and Meyerbeer.

The Chopin Nocturne, Op. 9, No. 1, with which Wellborn began the second half of the program, seemed to disrupt our reverie. This music demanded so much more than the beautiful sound and dynamics that had sufficed up to that point. The Ballade in G Minor, Op. 23, which must astonish anyone hearing it for the first or even the tenth time, sounded strangely out of place and seemed not to fit into any category, least of all a Parisian one. Having created an atmosphere of refined elegance, Wellborn seemed to be apologetic about this wild outpouring of passion and grief.

The Liszt pieces might have made a better transition to the Chopin. The Lac Wallenstadt, with whose placid harmonies I was more comfortable, seemed like an artificial pond after the maelstrom of Chopin's sea of trouble. Liszt came on strong in the Dante Sonata, and Wellborn did his best to raise the roof. Despite some wonderful, quiet playing that promised redemption, paradise was denied me. The real revelation of this fascinating concert was that Chopin, living so close to his rivals, could leave all of them so far behind.

(Jerry Kuderna is a pianist who teaches at Diablo Valley College and is a host (with Sarah Cahill) of the Berkeley TV program, Stop, Look, and Listen.)

©2000 Jerry Kuderna, all rights reserved