There was something almost cosy
about this event. Peter Katin gave a recital in this very hall on December
13th 1998, exactly 50 years since his Wigmore debut, so he
has every right to feel at home there. He is a pianist who obviously
generates much affection. Although the hall was not filled to the rafters
à la Imogen
Cooper on Monday lunchtime, those that
did attend were evidently supportive. To add to the friendliness of
the atmosphere, Katin (I almost feel like calling him ‘Peter’!) arranged
to take his water-break between pieces on-stage, adding the occasional
throwaway comment for good measure. He appeared on stage open-collared,
as if he was about to indulge in some hobby in front of some friends…
My own experiences of Katin are
mixed. One of the first records I ever owned was a two-LP set of piano
favourites, introducing me to the joys of the well-played piano miniature;
a Tchaikovsky First with the Hallé some years later (early 1980’s?)
showed an evidently nervous player who struggled with the enormous demands
of this concerto. Now that Katin is a sprightly 72 years, I was left
wondering what was in store.
He is one of the few pianists
who writes his own programme notes (a snip at fifty pence!). More pianists
should do this: it shows due consideration has been given to the occasion
and gives an insight into the performer. Katin states (in his notes
for the Debussy Arabesques at the start of the second half),
‘My idea of putting together this programme was to show that an evening
could be spent following the many facets of the ‘lighter’ repertoire’.
Do these comments refer to the second half only, or do they reflect
his attitude to the works in the first half, also?
The first half comprised a Mozart
Sonata and Schubert’s Impromptus, D899 (1827). True, Mozart’s F major
Sonata, K280 might be seen as ‘light’, but it requires the style and
care of, say, an Uchida, to bring about a meaningful musical experience.
Actually, Katin’s account was worse than a warm-up and had me doubting
my sanity at choosing this concert to review. The opening was improperly
voiced and bumpily modulated. With Mozart’s music seen through a late-Romantic
lens, but with a sense of rhythm which was on the shaky side, this made
for uncomfortable listening. The ‘Alberti bass’ of the Adagio (a Siciliana)
needed an injection of subtlety and the concentration was just not there
to sustain the argument, so the movement seemed to meander. The final
Presto brought with it its fair share of smudging and the more taxing
passages found Katin busking. Repeated notes also had a habit of not
repeating.
Imogen Cooper on Monday had reminded
us of her Schubertian credentials, even if she had not been consistently
on top form. The proximity with Katin was unfortunate. A thumpy, plodding
left hand in the C minor Impromptu and pedestrian interplay of voices
left me wondering what a finer player would have done. Only in the second
(E flat) did Katin begin to inspire any confidence: triplets were smooth,
the whole much more fluent. The G flat was the highlight of the set,
a restful oasis which preceded an almost delicate enough A flat Impromptu,
an indicator of what he might do on a good day. Enough to make me stay
for the second half, anyway.
Debussy’s two Arabesques
(‘exquisite – if comparatively inconsequential – miniatures’, as Katin
puts it) emerged as nice enough if not imbued with any particular insight.
Children’s Corner found Katin mostly in his element, for his
characterisation often brought a smile to the face. This was an affectionate
performance, and if Katin did not quite possess the control for ‘The
snow is dancing’, the ‘Golliwog’s cake-walk’ at least tripped along
nicely (the Wagner quote was well brought-out).
Chopin provided the material for
the rest of the recital. The B major Nocturne, Op. 62 No. 1 sounded
almost Debussian to begin with. Melody was nicely projected, and the
later ornamental trills were remarkably even. Again, however, recent
comparison did no favours to the Barcarolle. Pollini,
in June, provided an aural masterclass of emotion meeting natural unfolding;
Katin was clumsily literal at the opening, improving as the piece went
on to provide some ‘nice’ voicing. But in the final analysis he provided
a perfectly acceptable pointer to what the piece sounds like and nothing
more.
Although relieved that matters
had improved after the Mozart, I can’t say I made my way back to Bond
Street tube in any way uplifted by what I had heard.
Colin Clarke
(David Wright interviews Peter
Katin on MusicWeb at http://musicweb-international.com/performers/katin.htm)
Return to:
Music on the Web