Florestan wins over Eusebius in Sergei Babayan’s Zankel Hall recital

Most of the time when somebody mentions Sergei Babayan, a reference to Daniil Trifonov, his former student at the Cleveland Institute of Music, is often part of the conversation. Regardless of how much Trifonov’s pianism owes to his mentor, Babayan is clearly not just a gifted teacher, but a very accomplished pianist in his own right, as abundantly proven again by his recital in Carnegie’s Zankel Hall.

The evening’s biggest surprise was the inclusion of the little-known Fantasia, dedicated by the Russian composer Vladimir Ryabov to the memory of Maria Yudina (a formidable pianist of the Soviet era, still little known in the West). Anchored by a Romantic sensibility, with discernible allusions to the idioms of Bach, Schumann or Mussorgsky, with the striking fugue theme used in the penultimate of the five continuously played movements allegedly conceived by Yudina herself, the Fantasia comprises music of profound originality. Ryabov frequently creates a “halo” around chords by including adjacent neighbours of individual tones and thus giving the overall sound an additional, eerie, spatial dimension. Enigmatic and full of complementary colours, transitioning from whispered, lyrical passages to moments of frenzied ferocity, it’s a work perfectly aligned to Babayan’s talents.

Listening to the interpretation of the Ryabov piece offered a unique opportunity to appreciate two intriguing facets of Babayan’s artistry. Firstly, his ability to establish connections between apparently dissimilar works became evident when the beginning of the Fantasia seemed uncannily related to its preamble, Arvo Pärt’s Für Alina. Secondly, the pianist’s exceptional skill in controlling the interpretative independence – in terms of both phrasing and dynamics – of simultaneously playing left and right hands was truly captivating. The sensation of witnessing the two hands representing Florestan engaging in a genuine dialogue with Eusebius extended beyond Ryabov; it also resonated in Babayan’s Rachmaninov and, naturally, in several movements from Kreisleriana.

The set of four Rachmaninov compositions – two early Moments musicaux and two more intricate Études-tableaux – served as a framework for showcasing Florestan’s prowess and passion rather than emphasising Eusebius’ melancholy, the latter permeating many of the Russian composer’s solo works. In the Moment Musical in C major, textures were very clear with the music’s tintinnabular quality, reminiscent again of Für Alina. A lucid separation between the two hands’ lines was evident in the turbulent E flat minor Étude-tableau. The Appassionato conveyed inner turmoil rather than serving as a gratuitous display of vane virtuosity. Babayan's tone was never rough, even during the most intense climactic moments, while pianissimo notes were not evanescent bubbles, but maintained their shape and weight.

In Liszt’s Ballade no. 2 in B minor, the pendulum swing between the constantly transfigured main motifs – opposite emotions, menacing chromatic rumbles and segments of serene meditation – was handled with an exquisite combination of muscular gestures and delicate fingering. Babayan's mastery of singing lines, each time with different colours, was also marvellously displayed in several of Liszt’s transcriptions of Schubert Lieder.

Evident during the entire evening, Babayan’s deliberate manipulation of tempi became perhaps too much in Schumann’s Kreisleriana, where the often-praised improvisatory quality of his interpretations verged on mannerism. Despite wonderful moments of voices’ differentiation, there were others when Florestan and Eusebius’ beloved features were barely recognisable. In addition, there was so much tumult in this rather dark version that Eusebius almost drowned in the overall maelstrom.