Controversial pianist Lang Lang at Benaroya

Controversial pianist Lang Lang at Benaroya

by Rod Parke - SGN A&E Writer RECITAL BY PIANIST LANG LANG MARCH 26 BENAROYA HALL "In a word, dreadful!" That was my beloved friend's evaluation, as a pianist himself, of this recital. Whenever an artist comes along who is unlike any other (for instance, Maria Callas), there will be a great ruckus among critics questioning the merits of the new presence. It's impossible to know at first whether the newness is born of creative genius or something much more superficial. Perhaps it's only showmanship and marketing (see photo) that whips audiences into the kind of frenzy we saw Wednesday evening at Benaroya Hall. I've seen Lang Lang now three times, once with the Seattle Symphony Orchestra and twice in recital. If I go by what I experience when I see him play, I can only tell you that what I hear is always musical, even if it doesn't always agree with how I most want to hear a work played. I also hear genuine emotions. I hear poetry. I hear ecstasy. I hear playfulness. And I hear passion. I hear gentleness of an almost feminine nature, followed by a larger-than-live bravura and wild abandon that must recall the great romantic pianists such as Liszt and Rachmaninov. Lang Lang is such a vivid mix of passion, fun, technical fireworks, and yes, showmanship that it would be easy to dismiss his performance as flash-in-the-pan celebrity. It would be facile to predict a kind of Liberace status to his art. Perhaps I - along with most of the audience Wednesday night - am too easily swayed by big personality. But I don't think so. The music tells me otherwise. Yes, it's music wrought by way of Lang Lang's personality, perhaps too much so sometimes. But the experience is genuinely musical. Take Liszt's transcription of Isolde's "Liebestod" from Wagner's 'Tristan und Isolde.' I cringed at the thought of such a bastardization of one of opera's most sublime moments. To my surprise, what I heard was amazingly akin to the ecstasy of Isolde's final moments. Of course it wasn't Flagstad and Furtwangler floating off into the heavens, but it was ecstatic and lovely. Lang Lang presented a figure quite the opposite of the PR hype of his record company. He wore all black in a suit of modern but conservative cut. His stage manner as he greeted the audience and approached the piano was quiet and serious. Even when he was announcing the traditional Chinese numbers, while showing his complete ease as a performer, he never hammed it up or went for the easy laugh. His descriptions of each piece were articulate and informative, even as they were also fanciful and fun. He began the program with Mozart's 'Piano Sonata No. 13.' His playing was a mixture of classical restraint and songful rhapsody. It had neither the strict structure of a Clara Haskell nor the quicksilver, crystalline brightness of some of the younger pianists of today. It was full-bodied and musical, slightly removed from a true Mozartean style, but thoroughly musical, with every phrase delicately shaped. One Seattle critic said his playing was loud. I heard a lot of soft gentleness between the louder passages. The Robert Schumann 'Fantasy in C major, Op. 17' was closer to Lang Lang's outgoing temperament. There was much drama here, but Lang Lang kept his sometimes flamboyant manner at the keyboard to a minimum, only occasionally letting his arms punctuate in the air a large gesture. The technical demands were no problem at all, and Schumann's many juxtapositions of quiet and loud passages kept it interesting. Especially beautiful was the "Langsam getragen" movement, which the pianist kept dreamlike and soft with lovely sustained legato. The least effective work was Grandados' 'Goyescas' ("Los Requiebros"). The technical bravura came through without a whole lot of flavor. Not so with the closing "Hungarian Rhapsody for Piano No. 6." Here was playing that recalled the great romantics of old. Wild abandon and absurd speed to dazzle the dullest member of the audience. And dazzle he did! My friend felt the music got lost. I got lost in the fun of it all. The single encore was Chopin's Etude in E Major, Op. 10 No. 3. Lang Lang totally shifted gears and drugged us with some exquisite soft playing, bringing the energy of the audience down to a level that would allow him to escape. For these ears, the encore was a highlight. For those who missed all this excitement, check out the DVD of this pianist at Carnegie Hall. Reviewer Rod Parke can be reached at rod@sgn.org