While London’s concert seasons are winding down for the summer, the fun at Wigmore is just beginning. Bruce Liu’s astonishing London recital debut proved the point, as he brought his trademark showmanship to every piece in a programme that brimmed with life. Since his triumph at the 18th International Chopin Piano Competition in 2021, the 27-year-old Chinese-Canadian pianist has hardly caught his breath. Many pianists would tire after three years of non-stop international touring, their playing perhaps slipping into dreary routine. Not so for Bruce Liu.
Opening with Haydn’s Piano Sonata in B minor, he eschewed severity and solemnity in favour of pace and excitement. The Allegro moderato was thrillingly close to a Presto, yet clarity was never sacrificed and intelligent voicing shone through. Long lines were sustained even when playing staccato, although some ornamentation in the exposition repeat was a little overdone. The Menuet exuded charm, and the Presto (again, more of a Prestissimo) was full of bounce. At times close to – but never actually – veering out of control, this was Haydn not by a purist, but by one who dares.
As expected from a certified Chopinist, Liu hit the mark in Chopin’s Sonata no. 2 in B flat minor. He is a pianist who follows his heart, producing a rounded, full-bodied sound throughout. Admittedly, the first movement’s direction was not always clear and the fearsome demands of the Scherzo’s opening were not always met. But from this point in the evening, resistance to Liu’s talent was futile. Rarely has the Marche funèbre’s D flat major nocturne been played with such intimacy: a fragile songbird in the midst of devastation. Liu punctuated the return of the movement’s opening with a crushing inevitability, before plunging into the enigmatic finale.
The second half revealed a lighter, cheekier side to Liu, as he delivered a smorgasbord of minor-key Rameau with humour and wit. Les tendres plaintes was measured and wistful, whilst the ultra-clean ornamentation in Les cyclopes would make even Grigory Sokolov jealous. Agility permeated Liu’s playing in La Poule, but above all, a great sense of fun, the essential quality required to make these miniatures dance off the page.
The evening’s finest playing, however, was reserved for Chopin’s Variations in B flat major on “Là ci darem la mano” from Mozart’s Don Giovanni. While there was no shortage of technical finesse – with runs, hand crossings and demonic leaps abounding – character was always at the fore. With every tutti restatement increasing in grandeur, every melodic line shaped and singing, Liu expertly captured Chopin’s early improvisatory style. Watching as he tossed off chromatic thirds with apparent ease in the concluding Alla Polacca, it was difficult to imagine a greater living exponent of the work.
This was the showpiece which cemented Chopin’s own reputation, now unshakeably attached to Schumann’s famous remark: “Hats off, gentlemen – a genius!” The same accolade may well apply to Bruce Liu.
