A Study of a Study: Pierre-Laurent Aimard (piano), Zankel Hall, New York City, 11.12.2006 (BH)

 

 

Debussy: Etude No. 1, "Pour les cinq doigts"
Ligeti: Etude No. 7, "Galamb borong"
Chopin: Etude in F Minor, Op. 25, No. 2
Ligeti: Etude No. 3, "Touches bloquées"
Chopin: Etude in F Minor, from Trois nouvelles études, Op. Posth., No. 1
Ligeti: Etude No. 11, "En suspens"
Rachmaninoff: Etude-tableau in E-flat Minor, Op. 33, No. 5
Ligeti: Etude No. 6, "Automne à Varsovie"
Liszt: Etude No. 5 in E Major, “La Chasse” (after Niccolò Paganini, Caprice No. 9 in E Major)
Ligeti: Etude No. 4, "Fanfares"
Messiaen: "Ile de feu I" from Quatre études de rythme, No. 1
Ligeti: Etude No. 1, "Désordre"

Carter: Catenaires (2006, World Premiere)
Bartók: Three Studies, Op. 18
Debussy: Etude No. 11, "Pour les arpèges composés"
Debussy: Etude No. 10, "Pour les sonorités opposées"
Debussy: Etude No. 7, "Pour les degrés chromatiques"
Scriabin: Three Etudes, Op. 65
Ligeti: Etude No. 8, "Fém" ("Metal")
Ligeti: Etude No. 2, "Cordes vides"
Ligeti: Etude No. 13, "L’Escalier du diable"

 

 

 

From a unique vantage point perched thirty feet above the Zankel Hall stage, I felt as if I were peering over the shoulder of one of the world’s greatest pianists, and could only marvel (and occasionally gasp) at Pierre-Laurent Aimard, whose exploratory instincts and technical prowess seem boundless.  With lovely symmetry, his twenty-four etudes were arranged in two seamless halves, the first with Ligeti sandwiched between Debussy, Chopin, Liszt, Rachmaninoff and Messiaen, and the second with four groups of three: Bartók, Debussy, Scriabin and more Ligeti.  It is impossible to gauge the number of relationships teeming in this phenomenal river of programming, in which each of the Ligeti Etudes seemed to comment on what had preceded it, and in many cases, what followed (elucidated even further by Paul Griffiths’ compact program notes).  Rachmaninoff may not seem a bosom buddy for Ligeti, but the Etude-tableau in E-flat Minor mined the same richness and melancholy of Automne à Varsovie.  Liszt’s Etude No. 5 in E Major, “La Chasse” (“The Hunt”) duplicates the sonorities of brass instruments, as does Ligeti in Etude No. 4, "Fanfares,” and No. 7, “Galamb borong,” echoed the playfulness of the first Debussy.

But the evening’s real climax arrived just after intermission.  In amusing comments just before the second half, Aimard reflected on the moment he realized that “six times two equals twelve,” but “three times four also equals twelve.”  However, his cleanly ordered mathematics was disrupted by another work that he said he had just received just a few days ago, a world premiere intended to mark the 100^th birthday of Elliott Carter (in 2008).  But wanting to perform it “sooner rather than later,” and noting that the night’s concert coincided with Carter’s 98^th birthday, he then launched into the unscripted world premiere of the composer’s Catenaires, a short study as hair-raising as anything else on the evening’s vast menu.  Aimard added that he wanted to perform it earlier in the program while his fingers were still able to do so, and watching Aimard’s spidery virtuosity, I have no doubt that Carter’s demands would have been more taxing later in the evening.  (Although those final three Ligeti’s are not exactly restful havens for recovering pianists.)

As Aimard bounced off the final notes, he leaped off the stage to greet the composer who stood, turned, grinned and waved to acknowledge the audience roar.  Returning to the stage, Aimard announced he thought it would be good to perform the piece a second time, and in a program already charged with lightning, the serendipitous of it all added an extra jolt.  And ponder this: apparently Aimard learned the Carter in approximately three days.  That kind of technical prowess is a little scary.

The second half (each played straight through, without pause) began with Bartók’s Three Studies, and although they anticipate his work in The Miraculous Mandarin, in this case Aimard gently nudged them back to Debussy, whose three Etudes that followed then seemed to nod toward the Scriabin pieces.  His Three Etudes, Op. 65 were cast with a fleet flame – delicate, ethereal, and making me hope that the ever-expanding Aimard universe includes a Scriabin recording.  And finally (anyone out of breath could be forgiven) we arrived at yet more Ligeti gems, each quite different from the other: the clanking world of “Fem” (“Metal”), the disarmingly pastoral “Cordes vides” (“Open Strings”) and the sinister "L’Escalier du diable” (The Devil’s Staircase”) which may have a Satanic title but in Aimard’s hands means pure heaven. 

 

 

Bruce Hodges