With his light touch and transparent sound, young Japanese pianist Mao Fujita has quickly forged a reputation as an extremely fine Mozart pianist. He made his Wigmore Hall debut with a complete cycle of the piano sonatas in July 2023, and has performed the concertos around the globe. But his latest recital programme marks a distinct shift away from the Classical, plunging into the depths of Romanticism, eventually drowning in the lush chromaticism of Wagner’s Liebestod.
Early Beethoven was a good place to start. Dedicated to Haydn, his Piano Sonata no. 1 in F minor, Op.2 no.1, is Classical in form and nature, playing to Fujita’s strengths of balance and precision. Neat staccatos marked the opening Allegro, the third movement Menuetto marked by clarity. Fujita’s soft touch is remarkable, almost stroking the keys in the gentle Adagio, as if inviting the audience to share a whispered secret. The restless Prestissimo finale was propelled along with vigor, Fujita’s fringe flapping, accompanied by his obbligato humming.
Composed shortly after Tristan und Isolde, Wagner’s “album leaf”, dedicated to Princess Pauline von Metternich, provided a brief nod towards the recital’s closing item as well as the neatest of segues into Alban Berg’s 12 Variations on an Original Theme. Composed when he was studying with Arnold Schoenberg, this is pre-atonal Berg looking back towards Johannes Brahms, particularly in its opening theme. Fujita shaped each of the variations elegantly, particularly the Andante Variation 6, before Romantic pomp swelled in the closing Variation 12, finally giving the Wigmore Hall Steinway a rigorous workout.
Felix Mendelssohn’s Variations sérieuses continued the variation theme, Fujita relishing the music’s inventiveness, although it was the luminous Adagio of Variation 14 that particularly shone, prayerful in its stillness.
The recital’s second half brought the most daunting challenges. Like the Beethoven sonata from the first half, Brahms’ C major Piano Sonata is another early work, but its very opening already presents the composer in his full majesty. I’m not convinced, as yet, that Fujita commands such majesty as easily as, say, Alexandre Kantorow, and there were times where his interpretation felt under-characterised. He was at his best in the hymn-like Andante, where shafts of light seemed to penetrate stained glass, and in the scampering finale, the pianist rocking on his stool, leaning into the keyboard.
In a magnificent close, Fujita clearly relished Liszt’s transcription of the Liebestod from Tristan und Isolde. Digging into the tremolos and shading his dynamic palette with a wide range of colours, he nevertheless remained mindful of the vocal line, which sang out gloriously.
But can any music follow these rapt final bars? Well, with Ravel’s reflective Menuet sur le nom d'Haydn, Fujita chose to bring us full circle back to the Beethoven sonata that had opened the evening, Haydn once again the dedicatee.
