Last night, Evgeny Kissin played his annual recital at the Salzburg Festival. Or is it near annual? Close enough. Kissin, as you know, is a leading pianist, born in Moscow in 1971. He has long been a British citizen, and also an Israeli.
In the past, he has played in the Great Festival Hall, here in Salzburg. Last night, he played in the House for Mozart, a smaller hall. Does it matter? Most would say yes, I think. Smaller is better. But I say: if the recital is good, you forget venue. A basketball arena can become intimate.
Kissin began with Bach, namely the Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue in D minor. He played it as Kissin would. (This will be a theme of my review.) The fantasy—or prelude, if you like—was purposeful, affirmative, and balanced. Everything was in its place. You may prefer the fantasy a little smoother, a little more horizontal. But Kissin was immaculate within his own system. Each note matched the others. The fantasy was perfectly clear.
So was the fugue: brainy, logical. Kissin played the ending, resolving into D major, with great authority. Talk about “affirmative.”
As befits a house for Mozart, Kissin next played a Mozart sonata—that in D major, K. 311. Children study it. Kissin played it in his Kissinesque way. You may prefer, say, Lili Kraus, or Walter Klien. But Kissin is his own man, hearing things in his own way, and playing with utter devotion. For the closing rondo, he chose a fairly moderate tempo. I thought this was mature, and that Mozart would have approved.
Without leaving the stage, Kissin then tucked into a Chopin polonaise: that in F-sharp minor, Op. 44. I have used the word “purposeful” about Kissin’s playing. This Chopin was beyond purposeful. Kissin was a man on a mission. He had the structure of the piece in mind, causing it to build. The polonaise was deliberate, definite, and unmistakable. Like other Chopin pieces—indeed, Romantic pieces—it can be sprawling. Kissin made it cohere.
So, that was the first half of the recital. And the second? All-Rachmaninoff. It began with a song, arranged by the composer for the piano alone. That was “Lilacs.” In the initial measures, Kissin was beautifully soft. As he continued, the song was both songful and masculine, or Kissinesque.
After “Lilacs,” we had two preludes and six études-tableaux, from Op. 39.
The technical prowess of Evgeny Kissin is by now legendary. So is his strength—strength of mind, strength of fingers, strength of heart. His penultimate étude-tableau was the one in E-flat minor. This is a traditional encore, played by Russian pianists in particular for generations. Kissin played it with such purpose and care, the experience was almost painful. He played the piece as though his life depended on it. This was moving.
And the final étude-tableau? The one in D major, possibly the most electric thing Rachmaninoff ever wrote (which is saying something). It is a demonic march, with almost Mendelssohnian touches of grace. Horowitz used to drive audiences mad with this piece. He could miss a hundred notes—still, it was electric.
How many notes did Kissin miss? You would need one hand to count them. You would not need the whole hand.
For his encores, Kissin stuck with Rachmaninoff, playing three more pieces. The first was the Melody in E. The second was the Serenade in B-flat minor, which I think of as Rachmaninoff’s “Spanish piece.” On the final chord, Kissin smiled a huge smile, as if to say, “That was enjoyable. That was good.”
And he ended with the most hackneyed Rachmaninoff piece there is: the Prelude in C-sharp minor. Kissin did not play it as though it were hackneyed. He played it as though it were a superb piece, which it is. He played it with all respect and love. The prelude was monumental, cathedral-like.
What a tribute, both to Kissin and to Rachmaninoff.