Lifschitz plays Schubert's last three sonatas: at times uneven, but all sublime

Apr. 10 at the National Concert Hall, Konstatin Lifschitz playing Schubert's last piano sonatas: D.958 in C Minor, D.959 in A Major, and D.960 in B-Flat Major. This is a marathon of a program, to be sure, and it comes hot on the heels of Lifschitz's earlier concert on the 8th, in which he played another marathon of Beethoven's last three sonatas. Unfortunately I neglected to hear his Beethoven, but after seeing what everyone had to say about that concert, I decided not to miss his Schubert.

I tried very hard to like the first part of Lifschitz's program, Schubert's C Minor sonata, but as the intermission approached I started to feel rather disappointed with his performance. I don't know if it's owing to him having a bad day, or if it is the piece that is to blame — granted, I don't believe Schubert was writing as his personal best in this sonata: he presents a wealth of material, which is not always fully developed (this is, after all, Schubert, and not Beethoven or Haydn). But the way Lifschitz handled it seemed at times haphazard, lacking a sense of coherency. I was particularly befuddled with the way he treated Schubert's contrapuntal lines in the second movement — completely muddled; in addition, the general lack of structure made the numerous Generalpausen sound as if they were thrown in as afterthoughts, and not contributing to the music as a whole. 

However, whatever problems Lifschitz had in the first piece, they were gone after the intermission. The A Major sonata sounded lusciously unified and tight, with a wonderful palette of tone colors in the outer movements, and a palpitating sense of tension in between the notes of the slow movement. Here is also a musician who appreciates silences, much as what Leopold Mozart says separates the good from the bad. 

Somewhat abnormally, Lifschitz has another intermission before the rightfully famous B-Flat Major sonata. In my opinion, Lifschitz used a bit too much pedal in the third theme section of the first movement — I like to hear the theme played detatched, but that’s just my taste. In any case, my nit picking didn’t detract the least from the sublime atmosphere Lifschitz painted with his excellent palette of colors in the first movement. The second movement, however, saw another one of my dissatisfactions tonight: for all his skill, Lifschitz does not seem to transcend beyond the limitations of the piano (which is, after all, a percussion instrument by its nature), and quite a bit of the slow movement seemed overtly harsh and percussive. My guess is that that kind of touch would sound exactly right on a fortepiano. The final movement is, in my opinion, the best example of how any rondo movement should be played: full of unexpected twists and turns, with each reinstatement of the theme sounding as both a surprise and a relief from the tension built up in between. From the B-Flat Major sonata alone, one can tell that this is definitely a pianist who has thought carefully about his art, and although I daresay that his performance of this piece today was not as magical as I when I heard Pollini play in the Berlin Philharmonie in 2011, it nevertheless is an extremely well-crafted and solid performance, by an artist well in confidence of his supreme artistry. The encore, No.6 of Schubert’s Moments Musicaux, was equally a delight, bringing today’s marathon performance of Schubert’s last piano sonatas to a wonderful close.

Maruzio Pollini plays Schubert and Chopin at Berlin Philharmonie

And the main highlight of my trip to Germany is over on the first day... Although hearing Pollini play in the great hall of the Berlin Philharmonie (as opposed to the smaller stage nearby) is an event in itself, I have to say that I sort of doubt whether today's performance was worth the €36 I paid for the ticket, much less to say the plane ticket all the way from Taiwan. The first half of the program consisted solely of Schubert's most celebrated B flat major sonata (could someone fill me in on which number it is?), and although Pollini's touch in the slow movement was absolutely flawless, he had a tendency to rush when playing in faster passages, to the point that one feels he's muddling his sentences. Somehow this all made a bit more sense in the second half of the concert: actually on the program were the C-sharp minor prelude, Ballade No.4, the Barcarole and Berceuse, and Scherzo No.2, plus a total of three encores: a nocturne in D-flat major, the Revolutionary Etude, and Ballad No.1. My companion said she thought Pollini was "slippery", particularly in the later half of the program after Ballade No.4; I'm more of the opinion that it was mostly because of the acoustics of the place (we were sitting at the back of section C, near the back wall and at a slant toward the stage), but quite possibly Pollini's tendency to rush today may have also played a part. In the end it was a mixed bag; but judging from the nearly 10 curtain calls the audience gave him, he still has his star power!

Oh, and even in a venue like the Berlin Philharmonie, and even with an arguably more "educated" German audience, there are still lots of people who clap in between movements, and even more people making an awful shhing sound. Frankly, I think the shhing is much more rude than clapping at the wrong time. So for those who say Taiwanese audiences are unsophisticated idiots who have no idea of how to attend a classical concert and follow its rituals, I'd say their argument is to a degree moot.


-- from NK Wang's iPad

Location:Berlin