After witnessing a panoply of great orchestras fill Carnegie Hall over the past few weeks, the stage seemed positively barren last night, save for a single Steinway grand piano placed in the center. But, for many music lovers, this is the iconic Carnegie image: from Horowitz and Brendel, to Evegeny Kissin and Mitsuko Uchida, all of the great pianists of the past century have played Stern Auditorium, many dozens of times. Any human being capable of filling this cavernous hall is often destined for a bright career.
And so it was last night, when András Schiff played a program featuring late piano sonatas by Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven and Schubert. Schiff, who was born in Budapest in 1953, is widely regarded as one of today's greatest pianists, his playing marked by both subtle nuance and absolute precision. Among his many honors, Schiff was knighted last year by Queen Elizabeth II in his adopted hometown of London. That's Sir András to you.
Last night's concert was actually Schiff's second Carnegie recital this week: he played a different set of late sonatas by the same four composers on Tuesday, and will return with four more in October. After a bit of delay in starting, the stage door opened and Schiff walked out, dressed simply in black. He bowed, sat at the piano, and started playing Mozart's Sonata in B-flat Major (1789). With his eyes closed, the music poured forth from him: light and airy, yet with a rounded sophistication.
Following was Beethoven's Sonata No. 31 (1822), a far more substantial work written at the same time as the 9th symphony and Missa Solemnis. Beethoven's late sonatas have a strange, mystical quality to them: they are the work of a man living in total deafness, freely exploring unchartered territory in tonality and dynamics. The 31st jumps around from theme to theme, and you could see Schiff struggling to convey Beethoven's torrent of ideas, a mix of raw energy and pure, almost reticent tenderness. The crescendo to the finale was pure perfection, Schiff's left hand banging out Beethoven's chords with a frightening intensity. ("That was the most powerful left hand you'll ever hear," my seat neighbor volunteered.)
Following intermission was Haydn's Sonata in D Major, No. 51: a bright cheerful work that was over almost before it started. (It lasted all of 6 minutes.) That made way for the main course: Schubert's Sonata in A Major, D. 959, the middle of Schubert's three final piano sonatas, which he completed in the last few weeks before his untimely death at 31. Schiff gave a cerebral, intensely emotional performance, playing the keyboard with impossible lightness and promethean strength, his entire body shaking as he pounded away at the keyboard. A stunning, revelatory performance.
As is the norm at most Carnegie recitals, Schiff responded to the wild ovation with three substantial encores: Schubert's Impromptu in G-flat Major and Moments musicaux in F Minor, and Beethoven's Bagatelle in E-flat Major. Schiff, who at first glance seems somewhat frail, looked like he could keep going for hours. Such are the eternal mysteries of music.
More pics on the photo page.