At the grand old age of 27, Evgeny Kissin continues to demonstrate a maturity and penetrating intelligence at the keyboard that is light-years ahead of pianists twice his age.
His sold-out (including stage and terrace seats) recital Friday at Symphony Center was another jaw-dropping demonstration of how splendidly equipped the young Russian pianist is to take on the biggest challenges in the repertoire. The all-Chopin program stood in proud defiance of all who would pigeonhole him as a Russian pianist; rather, he is a Romantic stylist through and through, the kind of rara avis you hardly ever encounter these days.
Kissin has it all–talent, temperament, fingers, plus the depth of understanding without which the other elements would mean little.
At the rate he is developing, this bushy-haired, stiffly formal young man could force other pianists of his generation to consider early retirement. The mastery is there. All that’s required is a bit of refining, and the wisdom of experience.
After the mixed programs Kissin has played here in the past, it was good to hear him concentrating on a single composer, and one who is obviously close to his heart. Chopin’s music first brought him to the attention of a wide American concert and record-buying public. He now has poetic insights to bring to this repertoire that he simply did not have before.
Indeed, listening to his glorious sweep through the 24 Chopin Preludes, I thought Kissin is now fully his own musician, no longer beholden to the influence of his teachers. You may not agree with everything he does, but you can never doubt his choices belong to him alone.
Chicagoans have been lucky to hear two inspired performances of the Preludes this season–Ivan Moravec’s last fall and now Kissin’s. He made each miniature a gleaming jewel, balancing the dreamy and the stormy, the poetic and the heroic. Nothing seemed rushed; everything flowed with poise and authority.
Kissin applied rubato with the naturalness of breathing, tracing the familiar melody of the “Raindrop” Prelude with the utmost grace, building the chordal middle section atop a foundation of magnificent sonority. Here, and in the familiar C Minor, he achieved that sonority without ever pounding. I cannot recall when I have heard rapid articulation so feathery as he brought to the G Major Prelude, or such clear voicings as he achieved in the A-flat Major.
After intermission the pianist topped himself with a reading of the Barcarolle, Opus 60, in which the subtlety of his rubato over a gently rocking accompaniment made the piece flow like an improvisation: A ravishing performance.
The only drawback in his commanding account of the Sonata No. 2 in B-flat minor was that the Steinway concert grand proved rather shallow of tone for the amount of sound Kissin wanted from it, especially in those Horowitzian bass assaults of the first movement. Otherwise, this, too, was a succession of marvels. I admired the fearless way he tore through the double-octaves early on, tightening rhythmic tension as he went along. He followed a torrential statement of the Scherzo’s main section with a beautifully serene trio. The “Funeral March” was terrifying in its tenacity, the contrasting section unearthly in its calm.
He stuck with Chopin in his mini-marathon of encores. These included a wonderfully purling Waltz in A-flat, a miraculously fleet “Minute” Waltz, a swaggering “Military” Polonaise (has this war horse ever pranced so handsomely?) and the “Winter Wind” Etude, where Kissin seemed to be fighting both the piano and fatigue. Time to call it a night.
