Settling into the hard plastic chair that he favours above the customary piano stool, Polish pianist Piotr Anderszewski began this recital by embarking upon the attention-grabbing dotted rhythms of the Ouverture from Bach’s French Overture. His relaxed meter rendered the rhythms of the following fugato sections all the more insistent. The five-part arch form – alternating these two contrasting textures – makes for a movement of considerable length, which was shaped impressively by Anderszewski’s fine articulation and dynamics. The Courante and Gigue movements are more pensive in character and less dynamic than is normally the case, which shifts the piece’s energetic high points to the Gavottes and Bourrées. These paired dances employ varied regions of the keyboard and Anderszewski’s touch ensured clarity even in the murky low register.
Bach’s Sarabandes often sound distant from the dance floor, occupying an introspective, even pained emotional territory; as played here today, the Sarabande seemed to suggest quiet dignity in suffering. In contrast, the most dancelike movements of all were the Passepieds, the first of which Anderszewski managed to infuse with a coquettish character. The volatile Echo which closes the suite was a showcase of dynamic control, whether on a macro scale to define sections or on a micro scale to mark out echoed phrases.
After that, the romantic character of Schumann’s Novellette in F sharp minor was clear from the outset. Forgoing introduction or any notion of classical exposition, it dives straight into its harried-sounding opening theme. This soon makes its way to the lower extremes of the piano, thundered here with arresting conviction. We were then treated to contrast of almost everything: register, tonality and mood, all of which Anderszewski pulled off with springy articulation. A similar touch was later employed in a theme reminiscent of hunting horns. Anxious as much of it was, Schumann’s Novellette had some certainties: key and meter were only lightly threatened by chromaticism and syncopation respectively.
The opening moments of the second half were the complete opposite. L’île des Sirènes, the first of Karol Szymanowski’s Métopes, seems to have neither key nor meter. However, the mood and the playing felt exploratory rather than lost. The harmonic haziness had a magical quality which Anderszewski communicated wonderfully. Oddly, though, despite the metric ambiguity, there seemed to be moments where a kind of syncopation added a spring to the music’s step. Although not ostentatiously technical, this piece demands great control, as much of its slow-moving texture is achieved by trills and tremolandos. There are also many wide-ranging arpeggios and their execution uses the keyboard’s full extent. Anderszewski’s dynamic range was huge, the loudest moment possibly representing Ulysses’ torment when his sailors, their ears filled with wax at his own earlier instruction, ignore his obsessed commands to change course towards the Sirens.