Virna Kljakovic Archives - ROVING PIANIST

Carnegie 2018: Take It or Levit

Saturday, October 20th, 2018 by Ken Turner

Igor Levit, Carnegie Zankel October 2018

Igor Levit at Carnegie Zankel October 2018

Igor Levit’s 2017 Carnegie recital was described by one reviewer as “a peak pianistic experience of my concertgoing life”.

I signed up for Levit’s 2018 Carnegie recital hoping for just such an experience.

However for me the repertoire of the October 19th recital alone was sufficient reason to subscribe.

And so, after gorgeing ourselves at the Brooklyn Diner on West 57th Street, my dear wife and I entered Carnegie Zankel stuffed with great food and full of expectations.

Bach: Chaconne in D Minor (left hand, arr. Brahms)

I have attended strong two-handed performances of Bach’s D Minor Chaconne (arr. Busoni) by Han Chen and Virna Kljakovic. However Igor Levit was my first live experience of Brahms’ left hand arrangement. I had great hopes for it, because the underlying Partita is superlative.

Bach Partita #2’s Chaconne soars to spiritual heights and sinks to the edge of despair (over the death of Bach’s wife, some say).

But when compared with the edgy clarity of Hilary Hahn’s violin or the harmonic density of Busoni’s two-handed arrangement, Levit’s Chaconne felt as cold as the stone of a cathedral. Somewhere between Brahms and this pianist, the flame went out.

Busoni: Fantasia after J.S. Bach, BV 253

As per Busoni, Fantasia opens serioso, sostenuto e sempre sottovoce. In Levit’s hands, these directions were faithfully executed.

From my front row right seat, I had a great view of Levit’s sostenuto. I was able to see how he worked the pedals to create ethereal tones in higher registers. He used much partial pedal to thread the hazardous path between too little resonance and too much.

I could literally see the resulting harmonics hanging in the air. They looked like a church organ, with harp-like strings in place of pipes.

Mr. Levit’s performance of this work was the high point of his recital, and utterly mesmerizing. You can hear him play this for yourself at Igor Levit plays Busoni Fantasia nach J.S. Bach – live 2015.

Schumann: Variations in E-flat Major on an Original Theme

This serene but unremarkable work left your reviewer unmoved. This was not through any fault of Mr. Levit. Schumann never has done much for me. Perhaps you, dear reader, will get more out of Igor Levit’s Variations in E-Flat Major on an Original Theme “Ghost Variations”, WoO 24 than I did.

Wagner: Solemn March to the Holy Grail from Parsifal (arr. Liszt)

The Solemn March opens with a descending bass motif that sounds like huge bells tolling over a stately procession. The bells continue throughout the work, giving it a gravitas that fitted the rest of the recital program. Although there are more dramatic performances, I personally appreciated Mr. Levit’s understated interpretation.

Liszt: Fantasia and Fugue on Ad nos, ad salutarem undam (arr. Busoni)

Liszt is the kind of composer you either love or you hate. My wife and I are at opposite ends of this spectrum, but I have to agree that this brash, showy work does not inspire me the way even the Parsifal arrangement did.

In my opinion Mr. Levit could profitably have dropped this work from his program, buying him time for a couple of encores that would have greatly endeared him to his neglected Carnegie audience.

Frederic Rzewski “A Mensch” from Dreams, Part I [encore]

Mr. Levit announced that he would play only one encore. Disappointing as this was, it is hard to imagine following a program of such gravity with any kind of casual crowd-pleaser.

Indeed, A Mensch was no crowd-pleaser. Your unfortunate reviewer neither liked nor understood this awkward, atonal work. For future performances, it would help if Mr. Levit would grace his audience with a brief musical introduction.

What was the point of the pianist rapping the piano with his fingers, or the closing moment when he slid his foot off the damper pedal so that it sprang up with a loud CLACK?

Igor Levit: one of a kind

When Mr. Levit was ready to start Busoni’s Fantasia, a latecomer was being seated. Whatever he may have felt, Levit flashed a good-natured smirk at the audience. It was a reassuring moment, and one of many indications that although Igor Levit is a different kind of pianist, he is still human.

There were cases where Mr. Levit’s individuality was less impressive. At the end of Busoni’s Fantasia, and again at the end of Liszt/Wagner’s Solemn March to the Holy Grail, the audience waited politely for the pianist to sit up and indicate that he was finished. Instead, Levit started the next part of his recital. These were awkward moments, verging on rude.

There were other moments that I could cite to illustrate Mr. Levit’s uniqueness, but I will trade them all for the answer to one question. When you were sight-reading from your iPad, Mr. Levit, I did not see a page-turner pedal. So how did you turn the page?

Virna Kljakovic at Lisinski Hall, Zagreb

Friday, March 24th, 2017 by Ken Turner

Virna Kljakovic at Lisinksi Hall, Zagreb 2017

On March 20th, 2017, pianist Virna Kljakovic gave a recital at Lisinski Concert Hall (Lisinski Concertna Dvorana) in Zagreb as part of the Mladi u Lisinskom (Youth at Lisinski) program.

Lisinski was just a 5 minute walk from my hotel along Zagreb’s wide urban corridor Ulica Grada Vukovara. This was the fourth and last performance by young Croatian pianists that I would see on this trip.

Virna Kljakovic

I first saw pianist Virna Kljakovic (bio here) perform on YouTube. Her Chopin – Nocturne in F Minor, Op 55, No 1 video has over 250,000 views now. But my favorite was her Bach-Busoni Chaconne in D minor BWV 1004. When I learned that this work was the anchor for her Lisinski recital, and that she would close with Schubert’s divine B flat major Sonata, I started making plans. 4300 miles later, I was at the Vatroslav Lisinski Concert Hall.

Entrance to Mala Dvorana

Vatroslav Lisinski Concert Hall

Lisinski is Croatia’s national concert venue, comparable in standing to New York’s Carnegie Hall. The Mala Dvorana (Small Hall) at Lisinski is an intimate, modern performance space, somewhat larger than Carnegie Weill. The stage had a black backdrop, and the piano was a glistening black Steinway.

Bach – Busoni: Chaconne in D minor, BWV 1004

Virna Kljakovic performing at Lisinksi, Zagreb

Virna Kljakovic performing at Lisinksi Hall, March 2017

When the dark-haired Ms. Kljakovic entered wearing floor-length long-sleeved black clothing, the ambience was perfect for the somber grandeur of the D minor Chaconne.

This work is Busoni’s arrangement of the Chaconne from Bach’s 300-year-old Violin Partita No. 2 for solo violin. How do you make a piano sound like a violin? Well of course you don’t (even in an arrangement for one hand). Busoni’s dense harmonies make the piano sound more like an organ, and the arrangement is closer in spirit to Bach’s D minor Toccata and Fugue BWV 565.

Virna Kljakovic is a physically powerful pianist, well-suited to the demands of this work. Her opening progression was strong but never overweight, and her restrained pacing made the stately Chaconne ebb and flow like the tide. She seemed equally at home using her left hand like the feet of an organist, or both hands in delicate passages in the upper registers.

I struggle to explain how Ms. Kljakovic managed to paint a Chaconne that is more satisfying than, for example, Helene Grimaud‘s. Grimaud is more refined, but Kljakovic’s rapturous spirituality was compelling. Then there is Kissin. He has tremendous control, while Virna can blur more complex passages. But Kissin tinkers with tempo and over-interprets the finale, while Kljakovic closed with suitably direct and cataclysmic finality.

Franck: Prelude, Fugue and Variation in B minor, Op.18

Franck’s poignantly evocative piece was a welcome contrast to the weighty Chaconne. Ms. Kljakovic’s delivery was pleasantly lyrical, with adept pedal work that allowed Franck’s harmonics to glow continuously throughout the work.

Blagoje Bersa: Mélancolie, op. 76

Blagoje Bersa is a Croatian composer and national treasure. As played by Virna Kljakovic, Mélancolie is a 3-minute salon jewel that swells up in a cloud of harmonics and ebbs away with hints of Gershwin to a reflective close. At moments it resembled the preceding Franck variations. Pianists please take note: Mélancolie would make an excellent encore.

Schubert: Piano Sonata in B Flat Major, D. 960

This famous Sonata opens with a widely-loved melody that sends shivers through this reviewer. For the pianist, every note and nuance must be perfect in order to maintain the spell. Virna Kljakovic had the opening mastered, allowing her to be at her most expressive. I admire how she risked holding back longer at key moments, to great effect.

In the second movement (Andante Sostenuto) the pianist’s affinity for dramatic repertoire was evident. The performance was consummate Kljakovic, sonorous, reflective, and at times painfully beautiful.

The Scherzo was uneven, but the dancing bass of the Trio had clarity and punch. The closing Allegro, at times sounding like Beethoven, was delivered with engaging rubato and playful vigor. I had the distinct impression that the pianist was enjoying herself.

Authenticity

In live performances, we expect more from the pianist than can be captured as audio. From the showmanship of Lang Lang to the gravity of Kissin, top artists use every available modality.

Kljakovic’s grace at the keyboard is noted by her YouTube followers, and was evident at Lisinski. I see similar expressiveness of hand and arm in other pianists from the Zagreb Academy of Music. Somebody there is doing a very good job.

There was no bravado or artifice in Virna Kljakovic’s delivery. Every aspect of her performance was focused on authentic musical expression. When transported, she would tilt her head back and sing inaudibly. The last pianist I saw become so lost in her art was Khatia Buniatishvili, and the audience loved her for it.

Virna Kljakovic’s audience loved her too. She took three rowdy curtain calls and on the last, gave the longest bow I have ever seen from a pianist. It was an unforgettable “thank you” from a unique young artist to her supporters.

Kissin at Carnegie, November 2015

Sunday, December 20th, 2015 by Ken Turner

Evgeny Kissin after playing Beethoven at Carnegie Hall, November 3rd, 2015

I saw Evgeny Kissin perform on November 3rd, 2015 at Carnegie Hall, with my daughter Annie. We had fabulous seats over stage right. Could not see the keyboard, but that didn’t matter. I was not there to learn anything, I was there to enjoy and to remind myself just how far I still have to go as a pianist.

A few weeks before this event, I had attended a Lang Lang recital at Carnegie. I was surprised that my pianist friends were not so thrilled about Lang Lang. The message I got was yeah, sure, Lang Lang is good but he’s not Kissin. Since I thought Lang Lang was awesome, my expectations on this night were extremely high.

The Stern Auditorium was packed. There were even seats on stage for about 100 people. Kissin did not keep us waiting like Lang Lang, and his shoes did not call out for attention. This was a performer who had no need to sell himself. He bowed both to the audience in the main hall, and to the lucky souls behind the piano who had wangled a seat on stage. Somehow, I felt that I was in the presence of greatness.

Warm-up candy: Mozart

The recital opened with Mozart’s Sonata in C Major. This was pleasant and precisely articulated, but not the kind of music I would go out of my way to listen to. For Mr. Kissin, it was good warm-up candy before going for the big stuff.

Beethoven’s Appassionata Sonata

Beethoven’s Appassionata Sonata came next. In comparison with Mozart’s little kitty-cat, Beethoven was a tiger that allowed Kissin’s mastery to shine. With his shaggy hair, you could have imagined that he was Beethoven himself. I can’t describe for you the power that Kissin has, and what it was like to listen to him play this monster of a sonata, but it left me stunned. I don’t know who I admire more, good old Ludwig or this fabulous Russian pianist.

Kissin’s Brahms Intermezzo #1 – MEH!

After the intermission, Kissin played 3 Brahms Intermezzos. I am particularly fond of #1, but I was disturbed at what felt like excessive rubato in his rendition. I suppose that the greatest pianist in the world is entitled to play it his own way, but my “gold standard” is the one at this link: J. Brahms, Intermezzo op. 117. no. 1, Virna Kljakovic.

The rest of the evening was mostly Spanish (Albeniz, Larregla) music, which at any other event would have been captivating, but for me the concert really ended after Beethoven’s Appassionata, since I felt let down by the Brahms. Not even the strong delivery of Larregla’s Viva Navarra could offset the feeling that Mr. Kissin, world’s greatest pianist, didn’t “get” the Brahm’s Intermezzo. I imagine that he would disagree, but unfortunately I didn’t get to chat with him afterwards.

The bow says everything

When Mr. Kissin took his bows on this November night at Carnegie, he came forward and stood, head tilted back for a few seconds, radiant and gracious in our applause, before bowing. It was as if he were transformed by music, and we with him.