A Liszt-Style Wizard
We are in the middle of a “Liszt year,” meaning a Liszt anniversary year: The composer-pianist was born in 1811. In February, Jean-Yves Thibaudet played an all-Liszt recital in Carnegie Hall; in March, Evgeny Kissin played another one in the same venue. The two recitals were very different, because the pianists are very different—but both recitals were stupendous.
We had another Liszt recital—though not an all-Liszt recital—in New York last month. The pianist was Cyprien Katsaris, a veteran virtuoso from France. He is a wizardly fellow, the kind who likes to explore music off the beaten track. For example, he’ll play Beethoven’s ballet The Creatures of Prometheus, in the composer’s own arrangement.
Katsaris recalls another era even in his appearance. He has long hair, pianist’s hair. Do you know this Irving Berlin lyric? “When Paderewski comes this way, I’m so delighted if I’m invited to hear that long-haired genius play.” Katsaris also shows up in white tie and concert tails, skipping the present-day Mao suit.
He began his New York recital with a piece of late Liszt—“visionary” Liszt—the Funeral Prelude and Funeral March. He played with authority and solemnity, mixing in several colors, causing the piece to build. It was hypnotic and demonic—two prime Liszt qualities. Also, Katsaris knows how to make a big old sound without pounding.
Next he treated us to some improvisation. He first explained that this is a dying art, left to jazzmen and organists. We still have a classical pianist or two who will improvise, however. Gabriela Montero is a famous improviser, taking requests from the audience. (They name the tune, she improvises.) Katsaris gave us a smorgasbord, playing with snatches of opera: “Di Provenza il mar,” “Mon cœur s’ouvre à ta voix” etc. When he is a showman, he’s not merely a showman: He is musical too.
He closed out the first half of his recital with a variety of Liszt pieces, maintaining that spirit of improvisation. He displayed much strength and agility. His playing was not impeccable. But I like to say, “Life is not a studio recording” (thank heaven).
After intermission, Katsaris turned to Chopin, last year’s bicentennial boy (born in 1810). He played a concerto—Chopin’s F-minor concerto, in the composer’s own arrangement for solo piano. Katsaris had the score at the ready, in case he needed it. He warned that he might call on a page-turner. “Girls only,” he added (true to his playboy image). Because the pianist is doing double duty in this version of the concerto—playing both the piano part and the orchestra part—the temptation is to overplay. To storm the heavens, or overstorm them. Katsaris resisted the temptation, keeping things pianistic all through.
He played an encore, and it was an American one: The Banjo, by Louis Moreau Gottschalk. This piece is hard and flashy enough in the original. But Katsaris soups it up, enjoyably.
http://cityarts.info/2011/06/14/a-liszt-style-wizard/#more-4824, Jay Nordlinger, 14.06.2011