The fifth and final recital was also the finest and was a worthy conclusion to the annual piano marathon.

Valery Kuleshov’s recital was so remarkable that it deserves a review on its own. Born in 1962 and belonging to that generation of Russian pianists that includes Pletnev, Kuleshov was a Gold Medallist at the Busoni International Piano Competition in Italy (1987), a Silver Medallist at the Ninth Van Cliburn International. Competition (1993), and a First Prize winner at the Pro Piano International Competition in New York (1998).

His claim to fame, though, may be the fact that Horowitz took personal interest in him when he was discovered to have notated by ear Horowitz’s own unpublished transcriptions. He was meant to have received lessons from Horowitz himself for several months, but sadly, it was not to be as Horowitz passed away on the day that Kuleshov left Russia.

Still, his playing showed how well he had learnt from the master. Without that devilish, swooning, hyper-Romantic turn of phrase that Horowitz was known for, Kuleshov nevertheless distinguished himself from the very start. With the opening bars of the “Introduction” from Pletnev’s “Sleeping Beauty” transcription, Kuleshov put the rest of the pianists featured in this year’s Piano Festival, and indeed most of the pianists I’ve heard live in last four years, in the shade.

From a purely technical, pianistic, point of view, his playing was more complete than any pianist I’ve probably had a chance to hear. I was entranced at how his huge, ringing sound managed to project far into the back of the concert hall, while sounding always golden and beautiful. Surely this wasn’t the same piano that we had been hearing over the past three days! Seductive and full of colour, here was a master clearly at the height of his powers.

The Sleeping Beauty transcription was the perfect curtain raiser and provided Kuleshov the perfect platform on which to display his innate musicality, with mercurial, brilliant playing, balanced with incredible colour and delicacy and sensitive to Tchaikovsky’s original orchestral score, while managing to be stylish and humourous when the occasion called for it. The beautiful Adagio distinguished itself with playing of disarming clarity and simplicity; Le chat was alternately languid and mercurial.

Every so rarely, you attend a concert where by the end of the first piece, you feel the pianist has already proven himself. Here was such a performance. By the closing passages of Le fin, Kuleshov had so clearly acquitted himself that the he had the audience cheering for him and ready to give a standing ovation. If the concert had ended with the Sleeping Beauty transcription I daresay no-one would have been disappointed, since it would have been hard to top such splendid playing.

But top it he did. Quietly returning to the piano, Kuleshov played the first Singaporean performance of four of Rachmaninoff’s songs as transcribed by the great pianist Earl Wild. They may sound simple initially, but Earl Wild’s elaborations quickly turn each into a technical tour de force. Here, Kuleshov’s playing was again of an unexpected simplicity. In the famous Vocalise his phrasing reminded me of the way Horowitz (again) played the second movement of the first Tchaikovsky concerto, with a beautiful legato and cantabile that turned the piece into a true song, quickly melting away all memories of the crassly performed and insensitive Kreisler-Rachmaninoff transcriptions 3 days ago. Here was true rubato, coming from within rather than being imposed upon the music.

Where Beauty Dwells, In the Silent Night and Floods of Spring completed a very satisfying quartet of Rachmaninoff-Wild transcriptions. While all were tastefully played and impressively realised, the over-the-top Floods of Spring was particularly delicious in its virtuosity. What was even more remarkable was Kuleshov’s control over the proceedings, never letting his fingers get in the way of the music.

The Chopin first Ballade is a piece which is performed so often that one tires of it. Here, perhaps, was the one performance that failed to rise above the level of “good”, to reach excellence. While again here Kuleshov showed unfailing use of rubato, a certain emotional coolness and detachment in his playing created a barrier toward my enjoyment of the piece. In some parts it seemed rather rushed and lacking structure.

Structure, on the other hand was what made his performance of Scriabin so extraordinary. Mysterious, diabolic and breathtaking, Kuleshov’s Scriabin is nothing short of inspired. The “Black Mass” sonata, another one of Horowitz’s specialties, was played to the hilt, with orchestral sounds emerging from the instrument. So too, was the “Affanato” etude – with swathes of notes over the “seething bass” described so appropriately in Lionel Choi’s excellent program notes, it was electrifying, satisfyingly daring and bold in conception. I suspect that should Kuleshov record a Scriabin album, that it would immediately become a must-buy among pianophiles, if the recording could only hint at the immense dynamic range and colours that he has.

Horowitz’s own Danse eccentric, that Rachmaninoff himself knew and liked, as well as his famous “Carmen” transcription, ended a hugely satisfying program. Generally free of eccentricities and straightforwardly played. Digital brilliance was the order of the day here, rather than any imposed profundity and it served the two pieces well. At the end of the Carmen transcription members of the audience leapt to their feet in acknowledgement of his supreme pianism.

Kuleshov obliged duly with first a Rachmaninoff song, followed by a transcription of the “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” from the Nutcracker – brilliantly imitating the crystalline quality of the celesta and played with a dead-pan humour and a stupendous “La campanella” (featuring his own added notes that drew gasps from the audience). It would have been the end of the concert, then, but for a bout of spontaneous, synchronized applause that started off from the audience in the circles. He returned after a while to deliver his last piece, another quiet Rachmaninoff transcription, before signalling the house lights to come on.

It’s been so long since a pianist has brought so much new-found excitement to the piano festival. Gyorgy Sandor’s concert two piano festivals ago was notable for its musicianship rather than the pianism, and I suppose any modern pianist who wants to prove his worth has to be able to play Bach, Beethoven and Brahms – “cerebral” repertoire that Kuleshov wasn’t tested in tonight. But certainly here is what the piano festival is all about, or at least used to be all about. In the past we had new discoveries such as Lifschitz, Arnoldo Cohen, and others who distinguished themselves with their pianism and musicianship. May the Singapore International Piano Festival continue to be an event to explore not only new repertoire, as it has been doing most fruitfully these last years, but also new pianists. As Asia’s premier Piano Festival, surely we can expect that much.

Derek Lim

 

Our Awards	Write for us!	Writers' Profiles	Martha Argerich	Contact Us!	Random Review

All original texts are copyrighted. Please seek permission from the Classical Editor
if you wish to reproduce/quote Inkpot material.