Wigmore Mondays – Adrian Brendel and Aleksandar Maksar

brendel-madzar

Adrian Brendel (cello), Aleksandar Maksar (piano) – Wigmore Hall, London, live on BBC Radio 3, 7 December 2015

Listening link (open in a new window):

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b06r5dhh

on the iPlayer until 6 January 2016

Spotify

In case you cannot hear the broadcast, here is a Spotify playlist of some of the music in this concert. The Birtwistle is not on Spotify, and Adrian Brendel has not yet recorded either of the Debussy or Chopin Cello Sonatas, so alternative versions have been chosen:

What’s the music?

Debussy: Cello Sonata in D minor (1915) (11 minutes)

Birtwistle: Variations for cello and piano (2007) (6 minutes)

Chopin: Cello Sonata in G minor (1846) (31 minutes)

Every piece of music that Chopin published features the piano in some way. Most of his output is for piano solo but there are a couple of exceptions – two piano concertos and some works for piano and orchestra, the Polish Songs, the Piano Trio and this, Chopin’s only Cello Sonata.

It is a substantial piece, written late on in its composer’s career, and has a curious structure of four movements where the first is as long as the other three put together. It is a substantial piece of work, deeply felt in the slower music especially, but is also restless, the cello and piano playing closely together in melodies of unusual rhythm and contour. Chopin achieves the difficult task of honing his instincts for the piano to play as a solo instrument, balancing the two forces extremely well.

Debussy’s Cello Sonata is much shorter, a third of the length of the Chopin, but is equally concentrated in feeling. The work was to be the first in a series of six sonatas for different instrumental combinations from the composer, but sadly ill health determined he would not be able to get any further than three (the others are for violin and piano, and flute, viola and harp). The Cello Sonata is a sultry piece, particularly in the second movement Sérénade, which features plucking on the cello.

Bisecting these is one of Sir Harrison Birtwistle’s several pieces for cello and piano. The Variations are very closely linked to the Brendel family, and although they were commissioned by Adrian they take as their theme a piece written by Birtwistle for father Alfred. The theme is taken from another piece for the same combination, the Lied, and Birtwistle complemented that with this piece and several more to make a continuous sequence for cello, baritone and piano lasting just over half an hour.

Performance verdict

Adrian Brendel and Aleksandar Madzar gave highly accomplished performances of these three works, the result an extremely satisfying concert of contrasting musical language. The Debussy is a perennial favourite but sounded very fresh here, Brendel enjoying the almost complete freedom of the improvised second movement.

The Birtwistle, a gritty, concentrated piece, was very well done also, with characterisation of each of the short variations and some really vivid shades of colour from Brendel in particular.

The Chopin exploited the cellist’s singing tone beautifully, especially in the soaring second theme of the second movement. The duo stressed the uncertainty of much of this piece, and in particular the sizeable first movement, which here seemed to have just as many intriguing questions as it had answers. Brendel took everything in his stride technically, and the rapport and ensemble between the two performers – Madzar employing plenty of light and shade with the piano – was a real asset throughout.

What should I listen out for?

Debussy

2:04 – the first movement, a Prologue, begins with an opening statement from the piano, before the cello comes in expansively. The mood evokes to me a late summer evening. Debussy impresses with his economical use of form here, packing a lot of musical incident into a short movement before it finishing thoughtfully.

6:29 – the Sérénade is a nocturnal movement, and sounds like an improvisation, the plucked cello leading the piano in a stuttering series of musical gestures, showing off a more obvious Spanish influence. Gradually Debussy brings both instruments into line, and the cello uses the bow a lot more, building the tension and moving straight into…

9:50… the Finale, which starts with urgent piano and soaring cello before a vivacious theme makes itself known from the cello (10:08). This becomes the main focus of the movement, though the sultry mood of the Sérénade is not entirely forgotten.

Birtwistle

15:27 – the piece begins with a mysterious sound world on show, the cello playing two notes at once and the piano sounding very uncertain. The variations unfold in wildly differing moods, and without following the score it is relatively difficult to say where one ends and the next begins. After a tense beginning the piano stabs out two penetrating notes and then the music becomes faster – though the performers seem much more at odds. The end, when it comes, is slight.

Chopin

23:28 – the very substantial first movement (16 minutes) starts on the piano, with a solemn introduction. It doesn’t take long for Chopin to show off the pianist’s technique, but he is careful not to write a part that impinges on the cello once it appears with the theme. After a slow start the pace picks up a little, the mood intensifying – until Chopin works around to a repeat of the whole first section (from 28:42)

39:54 – a short scherzo that flits about without seeming to settle. The instruments are very closely linked in their musical discussion, both sharing the distinctive rhythm that Chopin gives to the main theme. The second theme () has a soaring quality very unusual to Chopin (in that he wrote so many melodies for the piano) and it has a penetrating beauty in this concert.

45:10 – a soft but warm-hearted slow movement, with a songful melody first aired on the cello but then repeated on piano. This is a surprisingly short movement, profound but giving the sonata a slightly lopsided form.

48:40 – the finale takes us back to the sonata’s ‘home’ key of G minor and finds an impressive urgency, with cello and piano working very closely together. Chopin employs a number of extremely catchy hooks but the form is relatively compressed…and soon the music moves into the major key and a thoroughly affirmative finish at 54:30.

Further listening

The Spotify playlist containing the music for this concert has been enhanced to include Chopin’s other large-scale chamber work, the Piano Trio. After this you can enjoy some music for cello and piano by a composer best known for his piano music, Franz Liszt – and played by the great Hungarian cellist Miklós Perényi:

Wigmore Mondays – Sol Gabetta and Polina Leschenko play Rachmaninov

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Sol Gabetta (cello), Polina Leschenko (piano) – Wigmore Hall, London, live on BBC Radio 3, 12 October 2015

Listening link (open in a new window):

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b06gqgpr

on the iPlayer until 11 November

Spotify

In case you cannot hear the broadcast, here is a Spotify playlist of the music in this concert, from available versions on Spotify. Sol Gabetta has recorded all of these pieces, with the pianists Bertrand Chamayou (Chopin) and Olga Kern (Rachmaninov), and, in the case of the Tchaikovsky, in an orchestral version with the Prague Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Charles Olivieri-Monroe.

What’s the music?

Chopin: Introduction and Polonaise brillante, Op.3 (1829) (8 minutes)

Tchaikovsky: Lensky’s Aria (1879) (6 minutes)

Rachmaninov: Cello Sonata, Op.19 (1901) (34 minutes)

What about the music?

There is something about music for cello and piano from Eastern Europe that communicates directly with lovers of classical music, and in particular smaller scale chamber music. This may be because the cello’s range is like that of a vocalist, which becomes very clear in the arrangement of Lensky’s Aria that Sol Gabetta and Polina Leschenko play here. The cello has a way of portraying the solemn contemplation that Lensky goes through before his duel and inevitable death at the hands of Eugene Onegin.

On a far more cheerful note are the works by Chopin and Rachmaninov. Chopin wrote very little music where the piano was not the starring instrument, and even in this Introduction and Polonaise brillante the piano part is challenging to say the least! Chopin did love writing for the cello though, and showed in this late student piece how his melodic style became very well suited to the instrument. Later in his life he completed a substantial sonata for cello and piano.

The Rachmaninov Sonata is one of the big Romantic works for cello and piano, with a piano part whose difficulty is comparable to that of the piano concertos – and interestingly the composer had only just completed his famous Second Piano Concerto when he got to work on this piece. It is full of big tunes and bold musical statements but has a tender heart too, which we get to see in the third movement Andante. The finale is one of sheer jubilation, the composer moving from the earlier, stormy music of the minor key to bask in the full sunshine of the major key – with a good melody never far from the cello throughout.

Performance verdict

This was a technically spectacular concert from two performers clearly at the top of their game, and thoroughly enjoying their music making.

The Chopin was a delight, all the youthful vigour captured in Polina Leschenko’s grand introduction, with its impressive pyrotechnics in the right hand. Meanwhile Gabetta’s tone was particularly beautiful, an aspect common to the pair’s performance of Lensky’s Aria, the arrangement – apparently completed by cellist Werner Thomas-Mifune – making a seamless transition to the instrument.

The Rachmaninov Sonata was a tour de force, the piano if anything dominating a performance rich in romantic feeling but also keen to impose itself through challenging and fast speeds. This did on occasion become too much and some of the phrases were constricted, especially in the second movement Scherzo, which hurried forward as though late for an urgent appointment, and some of the detail was lost – a shame, as despite its big statements, this piece does have some lovely detail.

The slow movement Andante was lovely, Gabetta’s tone and phrasing ideal, her knack of holding back on some of the phrases just right. The finale resembled pealing bells at times, its sheer exuberance proving irresistible, and here the performance had what felt like exactly the right tempo, pausing for breath half way through.

Even allowing for those slight gripes though, this was an extremely impressive, high voltage performance from two musicians clearly enjoying their craft.

What should I listen out for?

Chopin

1:35 – a grand introduction from the piano, showing off the youthful composer’s impetuosity. The cello, however, is perhaps closer to his heart with a songful and broadly phrased melody above.

4:12 – the Polonaise itself begins, with a distinctive rhythm that speeds up as the three beats in the bar go on (from 1 crotchet to 2 quavers to 4 semi-quavers, for the musos amongst us!). It takes the profile of a florid march, and is passionate and extrovert. The piano leads the rhythm, with power and a little charm, while the cello provides the songful melody. The end, when it comes, is vigorous and like a drink fizzing over.

Tchaikovsky

11:27 – a solemn mood is immediately evident from the pensive piano introduction, with Lensky awaiting his duel with Onegin. The cello picks up on this, reproducing the tenor line with a feeling of imminent dread, especially when the end approaches at 16:58.

Rachmaninov

17:56 – the sonata begins with a tentative slow introduction (marked Lento), as though testing the water, but feels on much firmer ground when the faster Allegro moderato begins at 18:55.

19:58 – the second theme of the first movement, first heard on the piano. This is classic Rachmaninov, combining Romantic thoughts with a melancholic undertone. Then from 21:23 the pair repeat the faster section before an intense development of the main material, the cello now playing lower in its register and the piano taking a hard hitting approach

26:53 – the piano now brings out the second theme in the ‘home’ key, where it retains its original melancholic quality, before the music gathers itself for a final big statement, finishing at 29:21.

29:34 – the Scherzo second movement begins at quite a fearsome tempo, led by the piano. Here the emphasis is much more rhythmic, though there is a distinctive six-note figure that dominates the movement. At 30:16 we hear a second theme, more songlike in nature.

31:29 – the contrasting ‘Trio’ section of the second movement, much smoother in nature. Then at 33:19 the stormy clouds of the Scherzo approach once again, with even greater force this time. The end, at 35:34, is beautifully done – quiet but atmospheric.

35:46 – the slow movement begins, marked Andante (at a walking pace). The piano introduces the tune, which is once again a deeply felt melody of contemplation. The cello takes it up at 36:34, and the theme proceeds to dominate the whole movement.

41:30 – the fourth and final movement bursts out the blocks. The key has switched from G minor, the sonata’s overall key, to G major – and the mood is completely contrary to the previous movement, full of jubilation. The music gets particularly stormy around 44:30, with cello and piano making particularly passionate statements.

A slower, quieter episode gives brief pause for reflection before a restatement of the last movement’s main theme at 46:59. At 49:44 the slower music returns, beautifully shaded by the performers, before the helter-skelter closing pages wrap up the piece from 50:52.

Encore

53:33 – the fourth and last movement of Shostakovich’s Cello Sonata. The composer’s spiky approach to this music is stressed in an interpretation that almost spills over into violence at times!

Further listening

The combination of cello and piano was one that 19th century composers loved to use – fuelled no doubt by Beethoven’s success in bringing the instruments forward as equal partners.

One of the most successful composers writing for cello and piano was Brahms – so here is a link to the powerhouse combination of Mstislav Rostropovich and Rudolf Serkin playing his two sonatas for the combination, both of which are known as repertoire staples:

Perhaps less well known but equally glorious are the two cello sonatas by Mendelssohn, also rich in melody and deep feeling. Here they are played by Jan Vögler and Louis Lortie:

Finally Chopin went on to write a Sonata for cello and piano, one that is perhaps best heard in a recording by Johannes Moser and Ewa Kupiec. The companion piece on the disc is the Piano Trio:

Wigmore Mondays – Kathryn Stott

kathryn-stott
Photo (c) Nikolaj Lund

Kathryn Stott (piano) performs piano music by Fauré, Franck, Ravel and Graham Fitkin

Wigmore Hall, London, live on BBC Radio 3, 14 September 2015

Listening link (open in a new window):

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b06c9nwj

on the iPlayer until 20 October

Spotify

In case you cannot hear the broadcast, here is a Spotify playlist of the music in this concert – most of which Kathryn Stott has recorded.

https://open.spotify.com/user/arcana.fm/playlist/14B8Ld3EVlXF6jlyZUeA9y

What’s the music?

Fauré: Nocturne no.4 (1884) (8 minutes)

Franck: Prélude, Chorale et Fugue (1884) (20 minutes)

Ravel: Sonatine (1905) (12 minutes)

Fitkin: Relent (1998) (10 minutes)

What about the music?

Fauré wrote a good deal of extremely attractive piano music, ranging from dreamy Barcarolles and Impromptus to the Nocturnes, which tend to be more moody. Kathryn Stott’s choice for this concert, the fourth of thirteen such works Fauré completed, is one of the lighter coloured examples.

César Franck, treated as French although he was born in Liège, which is now Belgium, wrote a lot of organ music – but is not often regarded as a composer of piano music. This is a shame, because in the Prélude, chorale et Fugue he shows off a distinctive style and an adventurous harmonic approach, while also acknowledging a debt to J.S. Bach in the form and construction of the piece. This reaches its apex in the central chorale, a kind of hymn tune that is first heard in a solemn intonation but which then rings out in glorious technicolour.

Ravel completes the triptych of French piano works, his Sonatine a model of economy and precision – but also an intimate piece of three movements that is quite beautifully written for the piano. The word Sonatine refers to the short length of the piece rather than anything else that might be modest – for this is one of Ravel’s finest piano works.

Kathryn Stott ends her recital with Graham Fitkin’s Relent, completed in 1998 and written for Stott herself. On the composer’s website, Fitkin writes of how “This piece is about time. It is about my perception of time, its various manifestations and ultimate inevitability. I think about the way I use my time, how much I need and just how long it feels like. I think about continuous time, circular time and our society’s preoccupation with marking the passage of time. And then I think about the relentless addition of time and how for me some day it will just stop.”

Performance verdict

Initially this concert was to be given by Tine Thing Helseth, with Kathryn Stott in support at the piano, but the Norwegian trumpeter sadly had to withdraw through illness.

In her place Stott constructed a fine recital, moving naturally from the nocturnal thoughts of Fauré through a passionate performance of the Franck, beautifully played and extremely well voiced so that the themes could be clearly heard.

Stott is a modest performer – by which I mean she has a gracious air when performing – and that suited her performance of the Ravel and Fauré especially. However when she needs the power it is easily found, and the performance of Fitkin’s Relent brought out the kinetic energy of the piece perfectly.

What should I listen out for?

Fauré

1:22 – a relatively gentle beginning to the piece, which is deceptively simple in its execution, harking back a little to Chopin. The theme comes back at 2’29, this time in ‘octaves’ – that is, the tune is doubled by another finger in the right hand playing an octave higher on the keyboard.

The mood then darkens as we head into the minor key. As Stott herself was quoted in Fiona Talkington’s introduction on Radio 3, Fauré’s “harmonic language is fascinating, and I’m never bored by it”. Greater turbulence can be felt in the music – but an inner radiance returns with the theme at 6:41. The piece finishes in serene mood at 8’53”.

Franck

10:51 – the Prélude suggests a relatively relaxed approach and is almost improvisatory at first, before we hear the main theme in octaves. Despite being based on an older form this to me is a forward looking piece, using some spicy harmony and strong romantic leanings.

16:18 – the Chorale section begins (chorale essentially another word for hymn), and we first here the Chorale itself in subdued form at 17:21. At 18:37 we hear it in another key, the mood of contemplation starting to give way to more passionate thoughts – and when we hear it once more at 20:20, the effect is like a peal of bells.

21:30 – the fugue section begins, though the fugue itself doesn’t start until 22:56, initially retreating into quiet thoughts but then gathering momentum. Once again it softens though, the choral theme peeping through the rippling piano textures at 27:58. At 30:06 the final peal of bells rings out, ending with an emphatic double ‘B’ from the left hand.

Ravel

32:24 – this piece is notable for its clean lines and immaculate structure but also for the intimate atmosphere that Ravel immediately conjures within seconds of this first movement beginning. It has a slightly melancholic feel but is essentially positive. Some of the quieter music is beautiful and dreamy, especially at the end.

37:05 – Ravel leads more or less straight into the second movement, a Minuet (a dance in triple time). This has a persuasive lilt, as well as the same feel of intimacy carried over from the first movement.

40:07 – the third movement, a much more forthright piece of music marked Animé (Animated).The textures of the piano here suggest rippling water. The piece moves to a convincing finish at 43:54, Ravel’s structure nigh-on perfect.

Fitkin

44:57 – immediately Fitkin’s use of the piano suggests mechanical movements. The writing is incredibly bold, from the big, beefy sound of the lower register of the piano – often dealt out in octaves – to the syncopated lines from the right hand. These suggest a strong jazz influence, but possibly even the sound of a gamelan.

As the piece progresses so its mechanical nature continues, with a terrific amount of energy generated in its ten minute duration.

Encore

55:57 – ChopinPrelude for piano in E minor (3 minutes) – an encore of suitable stillness to follow the Fitkin, Chopin’s E minor prelude is one of his most popular, and one of his most sorrowful too.

Further listening

There are plenty of options available for further listening after this varied concert. Those enjoying the Ravel would be urged to seek out more of the composer’s piano music, in particular Gaspard de la nuit. The Franck may have its roots in the past a bit more but has some pretty exotic harmonies – and anyone enjoying it might want to head for Debussy’s suite Pour Le Piano, another look back to the past with an especially beautiful Sarabande at its heart.

Meanwhile for lovers of the Fauré the composer’s piano music has a particular late night beauty, as this selection of Barcarolles and Impromptus suggests. All are tagged onto the end of the original playlist here:

https://open.spotify.com/user/arcana.fm/playlist/14B8Ld3EVlXF6jlyZUeA9y

 

Alice Sara Ott – The Chopin Project

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Alice Sara Ott

German-Japanese pianist Alice Sara Ott has recorded Chopin before – but not like this. Signed to Deutsche Grammophon, she has recorded the composer’s complete Waltzes for piano – along with discs of Beethoven, Liszt, Tchaikovsky and Musorgsky. Now she returns to Chopin, but with the Broadchurch composer Ólafur Arnalds for company. The Chopin Project is their collaborative album, featuring recordings made by Ott on a less-than-perfect piano, complemented by pieces for strings from Arnalds.

Ott is enthusiastic about the project as we grab a quick phone call in-between her rehearsal schedule – which has just reached the Barbican, where she has selected a piano for a concert. So, as Arcana begins with every interviewee…

Can you remember your first encounter with classical music?

My mother is a professional pianist, so there is always music in our house. That means the first classical music I heard was probably when I was still in her belly! I think my first concert experience was when three years old, and I had to go with my mum as she couldn’t find a babysitters.

At that age, you’re not able to communicate with adults, but every child still wants to be understood. Everybody wants to find a way of expressing themselves other than with the voice, and I was fascinated by the idea of about 200 people listening to someone in a room, playing piano, without talking.

I think I started playing piano as a simple wish for being understood and getting some attention. It goes beyond spoken communication. The music was not necessarily what moved me, it was the situation, and the language everybody listened to and understood.

Can you remember your first encounter with the music of Chopin?

It was around five years old. I had a cassette tape – I think Deutsche Grammophon had a series for children where they got an actor to tell the story of the composer with different recordings. I think it was a birthday or Christmas present, and that was the first time I experienced it. I couldn’t pronounce it!

Where did you meet Ólafur?

I had never really listened to his music before, but I met him through a producer who used to be my producer at DG. When Ólafur started to talk about the idea he came across the Chopin Waltzes disc I had done, and he contacted me through the producer. In the beginning I couldn’t imagine the idea. I’m very careful with these collaborations, as I see myself as a core classical artist.

 

What did you think of his music?

When I listened to Ólafur’s music it had taste and style, and I really liked it, so we spoke on Skype and I ended up accepting the offer. I play the Chopin pieces as written, but it was good to get a little bit away from the perfect, stereotypical sound we get in recording these days. Everything is so clean and perfect, but in those days before recording it was not so important and everybody was closer to the artist. You don’t hear the pedals or the hammers in piano recordings any more, you just hear when the sound reaches the acoustic.

Nowadays we have great instruments, and great halls, but with The Chopin Project we wanted to bring people back to really listen and get an intimate experience. It was an all-acoustic thing, and it was great for me. We are planning on a tour with the project. It’s so much fun!

How much input did you have into Ólafur’s compositions?

Almost nothing at all, he wrote them separately. The one track where I’m playing is where I play little ornaments, but this is his part of the album – me joining his project, his idea.

I like the idea he didn’t do rearrangements and came up with original pieces, and I think the pieces with strings complement the ones with solo piano. He felt it was more appropriate for strings and the one track where he uses the solo violin.

You said how important the more natural approach to recording was – do you think modern recording can be too clinical sometimes?

It’s a very different sound experience, the concept is different. We tried to distance ourselves from how recordings are made today.

It’s a great thing the technology is so advanced and everything is possible, but sometimes I wish for more live moments, and I like to record something with a natural flow. You will never get the same as experiencing the music live, but it is a lot closer to that.

Will The Chopin Project bring his music to a new audience?

I hope so, and I want it to bring in not just a new audience but the audience that have heard him one thousand times. I think it sits very well with the times we live in. Things are so perfect in those human moments, experiencing live music – these moments are very precious. The old audience gets a new perspective, and at some points in the recording I can even hear myself breathing. It makes it very human.

You have worked and recorded with Francesco Tristano, who also crosses between classical and other forms of music such as techno. How did your collaboration begin?

With Francesco it started out of friendship; and a passion we share for the music of Bach. I grew up with him aside from our passion for food.

I had the idea to invite him on as a guest for a French Baroque album, and then for a Bach double album that didn’t work out. We decided to base a two-piano album around The Rite of Spring (given the title Scandale) and came across the music for the Ballets Russes company. These are some of the major pieces in classical music, so we chose Stravinsky’s Le Sacre du Printemps (The Rite of Spring) and found a couple that went with it. We have now played 30 concerts together, and we’re at a point where we don’t think about most of the music on the disc originally being written for orchestra.

For me you enter a new world. We never can play without energy, and that’s the fun part. It’s very physical and we wouldn’t do it after an espresso or something! It’s all about dance music. It’s rhythmically very challenging but so fun. When we play it you see the audience react physically, moving their shoulders, and that’s so nice to see, that’s what music does and that’s the common language that goes beyond words, and makes you feel very privileged.

What are your future plans?

I’m in London now for my performance of the Liszt Piano Concerto no.2, and then I move on to Shanghai, South America, the United States and then a couple more times to London. Francesco and I will come to London with Scandale.

The Chopin Project is out now on Mercury Classics. You can find out more about Alice and her recordings by visiting her website

Maurizio Pollini plays Schumann and Chopin

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© Cosimo Filippini / DG

Maurizio Pollini at Royal Festival Hall, 18 March 2015.

A solo piano recital at the Royal Festival Hall is always a special event, and if you haven’t tried it yet I thoroughly recommend the experience.

The sense of occasion such an event brings is enhanced as the soloist is hemmed in on all sides by the audience, with some on the stage and in the choir stalls behind – which is where I found myself for my first ever encounter with Maurizio Pollini.

The Italian, now in his seventies, has an illustrious recording and concert-playing career behind him. Two of the composers central to his repertoire are Schumann and Chopin, who formed one half each of this recital.

We heard Schumann first, with the brief but poetic Arabesque. This is a wonderfully romantic piece with a wistful main theme. Pollini was a bit stern with it, leaning more on the two short contrasting sections rather than indulging the main tune.

We moved on to the substantial Kreisleriana, a group of eight fantasy pieces dedicated to Chopin and inspired by the character Kreisler, in the creations of E.T.A. Hoffmann. Here Schumann alternates turbulent minor-key creations with softer, poetic major key ones. In Pollini’s hands the faster numbers threatened to disappear in a whirl of notes, the rhythms occasionally blurred, but there were moments of pure insight in the slower second and fourth pieces especially. The final piece, which to me sounds like a bird flying around in an increasingly irregular circle, was perfectly poised, leaving the audience with a sense of mystery.

For the second half Pollini brought out one of his concert staples, Chopin’s 24 Preludes – written around the same time as Kreisleriana. In just under forty minutes Chopin navigates a piece in each key, cleverly structured so that he effectively follows a ‘circle of fifths’. (In technical terms this means he moves from C major, and its relative key A minor, through G major (and its relative E minor) and so on, until travelling full circle.

This performance felt like one whole piece of 24 sections, brilliantly delivered and suitably dramatic. The centrepiece of the collection, the Raindrop prelude (no.15), epitomised Pollini’s approach by being relatively quick – while the faster preludes became thunderbolts from the blue.

Ending to a hero’s reception, Pollini generously fed us three encores, beginning with the waterfall of notes that is the Etude in C minor, Op.10/12, then moving to the relative calm of the D flat major Nocturne, Op.27/2. Then, as a handsome bonus, we had the Scherzo no.3 in C# minor, with its triumphant, Brahmsian chorale theme. After some nasty words were written about Pollini in the Spectator lately, this was the perfect riposte!

You can hear the music Maurizio Pollini played on a Spotify podcast, available here