Víkingur Ólafsson gave a strikingly thoughtful concert with imaginative planning, musicality, proportion, and delivery for Vivo at Symphony Hall last night; it constituted nothing less than a gift. Intellect and originality pervaded his enjoyable handout essay, his projected persona and, most importantly, his performance, which proceeded, by his request, without pause until the final note.
This was an evening in E—Major and Minor—historically, compositionally and emotionally linked, played from the first note of Bach’s Prelude in E Major, BWV 854 to the last of Beethoven’s Sonata No. 30 in E Major, Opus 109. Even if Ólafsson had not so wonderfully described how being immersed in Bach’s Goldberg Variations for a year of concertizing led to thinking about how Bach has inspired subsequent compositional development in many, the program led to experiencing it, culminating with Opus 109 (which was the title of the program).
The start, with Bach’s E Major Prelude, familiar to most from the first volume of the Well-Tempered Clavier, seemed a trifle rushed, though pristine. And the pianist’s pause before launching into the relatively rarely played E Minor Beethoven Opus 90 felt too short. That 1814 two-movement generally underappreciated work wafted well. Its first movement, Mit Lebhaftigkeit und durchaus mit Empfindung und Ausdruck (with liveliness and with feeling and expression throughout), is in ¾ time yet has moments of stormy brooding that seemed to go beyond the composer’s description. The Rondo in E major, Nicht zu Geschwind und sehr sing bar vorgetragen (not so fast and conveyed in a singing manner) redeems the sonata for many and is happily more than twice the length of the initial movement.
A slightly longer breath followed before the incantatory Bach Partita No. 6 in E Minor, BWV 830, written in Leipzig where the composer experienced overwhelming duties managing music for the city’s four churches and self-published its seven movements, all in E Minor, with the Italian title of partita. Despite his musical nods to other Bach specialists, Ólafsson’s rendition enchanted. The opening Toccata lends itself to many interpretations—instructional, light-hearted, cool, warm and so forth. Here Ólafsson demonstrated the voicing with precision, with a touch of Gould’s memory. The Allemande created a lighthearted and playful sound, and then the Corrente provided a giggly romp with the very modern rippling and jazzy notes Bach provided centuries ahead of his time. The short and cheerful Air, as always, seemed too brief for my taste, no matter how well crafted by the performer. The reflective Sarabande demonstrated the power of soft sounds that resonate, and then Tempo di Gavotta transitioned to the final Gigue, which seems less “giguey” and more of a Presto.
Schubert’s Sonata in E Minor, D566, from his 20th year, with its Moderato first movement and Allegretto second, paid tribute to Bach and Beethoven. Ólafsson’s version of the Moderato conveyed both Baroque and Beethovenian phrasing, concomitantly convincing and quixotic—yet pleasing. The Allegretto with its Lieder-like beginning traveled to an operatic peak, descended to quiet then reverted to a songful interlude, then to another climax and a quiet, nearly whispered ending.
Beethoven’s Sonata No 30 in E Major, Opus 109, concluded the concert. Its complex Vivace ma non troppo, sempre legato-Adagio espressivo felt private, secretive with urgency, essentially through the intimate cadenza of great beauty with darkness. In the Prestissimo, Ólafsson masterfully communicated the sweet, graceful melody that is interspersed with frantic darkness. The Andante molto cantabile ed espressivo provided resolution.
Tumultuous applause followed, with nearly everyone standing in approbation. At first it seemed that Ólafsson would eschew encores, but he ultimately played four, to the delight of the audience, starting with his own arrangement of Bach’s Air on a G String, followed by Rameau’s Le rappel des Oiseaux, the artist’s arrangement of The Arts and the Hours, and ending with the Phillip Glass Etude Number 6.
As many already know, a much-anticipated Deutsche Grammophon recording of this program is now available, and Ólafsson will be sharing his masterful set of interpretations at many other concert halls. I am hoping that my travels intersect with at least one more.