Two Beethoven sonatas, Franck’s Prélude, Chorale et Fugue and a selection from Rachmaninov’s Études-Tableaux, Op.39. Even on paper, the programme of Nikolai Lugansky’s solo recital in Rome was not exactly what you would call lightweight. Albeit very different, the pieces all share a degree of intensity that – in the long run, throughout the evening – felt almost anachronistic, but in the best way. The Russian pianist was not discouraged by the task: his challenge didn’t just concern technique, but rather the re-creation of a Zeitgeist.
Most noteworthy in Lugansky’s performance was the fact that he played with a definite style, which he asserted from the very beginning of the concert and maintained until the end. This is the opposite of a chameleonic approach. The performer does not disappear behind the composer; instead, they bring their own individuality to the foreground. Such was the case for Lugansky: his rich, mellow sound and the telluric quality of his playing – collected and restrained, seemingly dormant, yet capable of tremors and quakes – may not be for everyone, but it is personal.
Making up the first half of the concert were the two Beethoven sonatas, both extremely famous, no. 14, also known as the “Moonlight” Sonata, and no. 23, the Appassionata. Interestingly, Lugansky’s interpretation of the first felt more like a series of tableaux than like a complete sonata. Each movement constituted a small universe of its own, solely connected to the others through the pianist’s distinctive rich tone. At first possibly ascribable to the sonata’s unusual structure – famously marked Quasi una fantasia – the rhapsodic tendency persisted into the following piece, but within the single movements. This is controversial in Beethoven’s music, which requires a lucid control over its overarching – if elaborate – structure. Lugansky risked losing sight of what is most important in the composer’s scores, the processes of transition and development. However, despite these gaps, there was no scarcity of beautifully executed quiet and impetuous moments.
The second half of the recital was more congenial. Franck’s three-part opus is also a model of solid architecture, but of a different kind from Beethoven’s sonatas. Lugansky gave a perfectly cohesive rendition, highlighting the score’s thematic texture, all the while staying on top of its demanding virtuoso passages. One couldn’t but admire the terse yet intense quality of the pianist’s playing. Familiarity with virtuoso technique also proved useful for the selection from Rachmaninov’s Études-Tableaux, but once again Lugansky’s merits did not stop there. What was a partial limit to his Beethoven proved ideal for this set of short pieces, namely his remarkable ability to conjure up worlds in the span of a few minutes, paying homage to their nature of tableaux. Here, the pianist managed to fully display the width of his range, which seamed collected moments and quick eruptions together with no apparent effort.
At the end of the evening the concert met great acclaim, to which Lugansky responded with three encores.
