A member of an exceptionally talented generation of pianists, now around thirty, Igor Levit demonstrated again what sets him apart from everybody else: an extraordinary musicianship, pairing an intellectual approach with a formidable technique. When he entered the stage, unassuming, meek, casually dressed, with an iPad in his hand, somebody who hadn’t heard him before would have barely imagined that, from the first note, this astonishing pianist could generate such a glowing, Apollonian aura that would gradually envelop everyone.
The evening’s program was strongly related to Levit’s recently released album, “Life”, a tribute to his close friend – artist Hannes Malte Mahler – who died in an accident in 2016. It was only outwardly a disparate selection of works: in fact, they were linked on multiple levels. Several are transcriptions (Brahms, Busoni, Liszt), the long-established musical technique of variations predominant overall. The transformations involved a change of instrument: Bach’s Chaconne was originally composed for violin, Liszt’s Fantasia and Fugue on "Ad nos, ad salutarem undam" for organ, the "Solemn March to the Holy Grail" from Parsifal for a full orchestra. Multiple metamorphoses were more or less touching on a spiritual release from pain and suffering (Liszt/Wagner) or composed at moments of maximal distress: Schumann’s last piano work, the Geistervariationen in E flat major was conceived days before he attempted suicide by jumping into the Rhine. The single encore, "A Mensch", a segment from Rzewski’s Dreams, was written in 2012 in memory of one of the composer’s departed friends. Putting together this unconventional program and replacing large pauses between works with just caesurae, basking the entire evening into his idiosyncratic pianistic style, Levit transfigured one more time the musical material in a sort of new, life-affirming way. As long as we can change, life is going on – he seems to say.
For a program under the double sign of Bach and Busoni, it was kind of surprising that Levit didn’t select the latter’s version of Bach’s Chaconne from the Violin Partita no. 2 in D minor but Brahms’ more faithful and less flamboyant transcription for the left hand. The pianist’s approach to melody and rhythm was transfixing. Connections were such that listeners had the sensation of bowing. At the same time, the evenness and clarity of sounds seemed out of this world.