Recital of a lifetime tonight. Marc-Andre Hamelin playing in a small hall
at the local conservatory filled with piano nuts like me. I also noticed
Robert Olson, conservatory conducting professor and conductor of the new
Naxos CD of the Mahler Tenth (the Joe Wheeler reconstruction) sitting in
the audience.

The program:

Schumann: Fantasiestuecke, op. 12
Leopold Godowsky: Seven Studies after Chopin's Etudes
       (nos. 1, 13, 7, 33, 45, 44, 22)

Intermission

Hamelin: 4 excerpts from his 'Con Intimissimo Sentimento
   Album Leaf, Music Box, After Pergolesi, Berceuse in tempore belli
Alkan: Symphony for Solo Piano (from the Etudes in Minor Keys, Op. 39,
         Nos. 4-7)
Encore: One of the Brahms Op. 117 intermezzi

Hamelin is the super-virtuoso of the moment (fans of Volodos might
object to this statement) and it is often said that he can't play standard
repertoire. It is true that he specializes in relatively unknown literature
- composers like Alkan, Godowsky, Medtner, Catoire, Ornstein, Bolcom,
Wolpe, etc. - and he has brought some of them to the attention of
concert-goers and record buyers. But he certainly proved that at least
in Schumann's Fantasiestuecke and his Brahms encore he can hold his own
with others in the core repertoire. The first of the Schumann Fantasy
Pieces, Des Abends, was played so softly, dreamily, sadly, and with such
plump tone and seamless legato that it was mesmerizing. When he swung
into the 'Aufschwung' with hardly a break, the spell was broken and we
were off on a ride. Each of the remaining six pieces was equally
successfully characterized. In evidence was the gray-pearl tone reminiscent
of Murray Perahia's; in fact it occurred to me tonight, for the first
time, that he and Perahia, among the middle generation of pianists
playing, have a corner on that subtle, seemingly infinitely varied and
never jarring tone. The older generation had it - think of Moravec,
Michelangeli - but it has seemed to get lost in the competition frenzy
of the younger set.

Then came the Godowsky/Chopin etudes. My god, I have never seen such
virtuosity up close. The three etudes for left hand alone were simply
amazing, particularly the arrangement of the Revolutionary Etude. I
own three recordings of the complete Godowsky/Chopin etudes - those of
Hamelin, young Carlo Grante, and kludgy Douglas Madge. Hamelin is leagues
ahead of the others; he makes MUSIC of the thickets of notes. It was a
relief, though, to hear some minute bobbles in the frenetic arpeggios
in contrary motion of Op. 10, no. 1 (Godowsky's No. 1). He's human after
all!

During intermission there were clumps of pianophiles talking excitedly
to each other, mostly in unbelieving and hugely admiring terms. One
pianist, a finalist in several international competitions including
the Cliburn, said to me, 'I simply don't believe what he does.' It's
his absolute control of the musical line in the face of what appear to
insuperable technical obstacles. I recall that Horowitz worked on the
Godowsky etude no. 7 (the Winter Wind etude with the right and left hands
interchanged) and gave up on it, telling Godowsky that it was impossible.
Hamelin sailed right through it - although there was a little bit of
strain in the race to the finish - and made music of it as well.

Hamelin's pieces were miniatures, often high up in the treble with
twittering minor seconds against obbligato basses, and while tangy,
there isn't much there there. Of course he made the most of them.

The Alkan, a piece I've known and loved for 25 years, was spectacular.
The 'minuet', which is surely the most undanceable minuet ever written
it goes so fast, has a delectable trio section that sings with a broken
heart. Or at least in Hamelin's performance it does. And then there is
the presto finale  with leaps and octaves that have to be seen to be
believed. The final movement of Chopin's B-flat sonata has been called
'the wind whispering in the graveyard'. This finale is a hurricane in
a battle field and yet it comes to a triumphant finish which had the
knowledgable crowd on their feet whistling, stamping, yelling.

Hamelin looked beat at the end of the program, but he came out and played
the first of the Brahms Op. 117 intermezzi, utterly serene, utterly
controlled, utterly beautiful.

I spoke with him briefly afterwards and learned that he has two discs
in the pipeline at Hyperion Records: a second Schumann disc, and a disc
of Szymanowski Etudes and Mazurkas.

Scott Morrison