Concert Review: Garrick Ohlsson Plays Chopin

Veteran pianist brings grandeur and feeling to one of his favorite composers

Chopin

Nocturne in F Major, Op. 15, No. 1

Nocturne in B Major, Op. 9, No. 3

Barcarolle in F-sharp Major, Op. 60

Fantasie in F Minor, Op. 49

Scherzo No. 3 in C-sharp Minor, Op. 39

Impromptu No. 2 in F-sharp Major, Op. 36

Piano Sonata No. 3 in B Minor, Op. 58

Garrick Ohlsson, piano

November 12, 2023 — 92nd Street Y, New York

This recital was traditional in the best sense: familiar repertoire, played with grandeur, feeling, and a touch of showmanship. It is now fashionable to complain about reviving the canonized classics; but playing as rich and vibrant as Ohlsson’s makes one remember that the best classics are inexhaustible.

Granted, it took the veteran pianist a while to get going. There were lovely moments in the two nocturnes, but they did not balance out a lack of dynamic variety – everything hovered around mezzo-forte – a certain rhythmic stolidity, and some clumsiness in the filigreed passagework so typical of Chopin (the right-hand cadenza at m. 155 in the B-major nocturne was a rushed scramble). Ohlsson has said that the Barcarolle is his very favorite work. His love for it was evident, in exactly the wrong way: Every melody was slathered with little rubatos and rhetorical emphases, every harmonic change heavily underlined. In his lingering over exquisite details, Ohlsson sacrificed the momentum that makes the piece so overwhelming. However, some impressively built climaxes (at mm. 51-53, and the final one at mm. 92-93) suggested a player with real feeling for Chopin.

This player fully emerged in the F-minor fantasie, which received an imposing and memorable reading — prevailingly measured in tempo, yet possessing an inexorable momentum. Some of Chopin’s most slowly built climaxes are found in this work; Ohlsson approached them with a steadiness and patience that made the moments of arrival overwhelming, almost frightening in their force. I’ve rarely heard the fortissimo double octaves at m. 109 resound with such a huge, orchestral sonority. Also notable was Ohlsson’s unusually deliberate treatment of the march beginning at m. 127; the effect was stark, almost fierce, but still noble. A performance to treasure and remember.

If the scherzo and impromptu did not quite reach these heights, nor did they leave any doubt that a major Chopin player was at work. The former piece, rather like the fantasie, was big-boned and steady. The piano downward rushes in the middle section had great delicacy, and the coda was powerful (despite a missed final C-sharp, which elicited good-natured laughter from the audience). It was only by comparison with past greats (Arrau’s incomparable sense of mystery in the più lento section, Richter’s headlong brilliance in the coda) that Ohlsson could have been found wanting. In the impromptu, I admit to being distracted by a disastrous cell phone intrusion midway through the piece. My general impressions were positive: The opening melody was lovingly shaped, and the central climax sung out beautifully.

The great B-minor sonata brought things to a splendid conclusion. The opening measures were somewhat nondescript, but Ohlsson caught fire in the transitional passage at m. 24, the upward runs the left hand sounding like great waves. His pacing struck me as perfect: Quick enough to convey the piece’s drama, but relaxed enough to elucidate Chopin’s contrapuntal web. (Few works by Chopin so completely refute the “tunesmith” stereotype.) In the more songful sections of this movement, and the entirety of the third, Ohlsson captured the music’s serene rapture so perfectly that I was content to stop analyzing and let the music wash over me.

After guiding the slow movement to a gentle close (a marvelously hushed final chord), Ohlsson tore through the finale at quite a clip, bringing things to a thrilling conclusion. By then, he’d earned the right to show off. Far from feeling bored by yet another Chopin recital, I came away with renewed love for this music.