Liszt, Tchaikovsky, Chopin: Elisabeth Leonskaya (piano). Queen Elizabeth Hall, 23.01.2007 (CC)

 

 

There seems little doubt that Elisabeth Leonskaya should own a higher position in the pianistic firmament than she is currently accorded. In 2004 I reviewed a Schubert disc that is quite simply outstanding. The innate musicality that characterised Leonskaya’s playing on that recording was immediately apparent at the QEH in the two Liszt Petrarch Sonnets. What had not come across on disc was the sheer weight of Leonskaya’s sound. This is playing in the true Russian tradition, yet she is never overbearing. Decorations were never merely throwaway, lending a depth to her interpretation. This depth was particularly apparent in the Sonetto 123, where Leonskaya seemed to enjoy Liszt’s experiments. Only the very close was a touch literal.

 

Tchaikovsky’s mammoth Grand Sonata in G, Op. 27 needs a very special interpreter if it is to succeed. Back in 2003 at the Barbican, Pletnev showed how it is not done, revealing how mediocre interpretation of this piece leads to longueurs. Leonskaya could hardly be more different. She highlighted the contrasts between the lyrical and the quixotic (invoking Schumann along the way) and, in her grasp of the work’s architecture, revealed what a masterpiece this sonata really is. Interesting also to watch her negotiate Tchaikovsky‘s difficulties – she hardly moves, all the power coming from her body and arms, yet her fingers have all the nimbleness (and strength) in the world. The desolate wastes of the second movement, the almost watery third and the consummate command of the finale made one wonder how the second half could possibly follow on.

 

Leonskaya chose Chopin’s four Scherzos for the concert’s second part, interjecting the D flat Nocturne, Op. 27/2 in the middle as a fluid oasis of calm (with a lovely proto-Debussian coda). The Scherzos were simply stunning. Leonskaya’s Russian background ensured pedal was kept to a minimum. Her grasp of each Scherzo’s shape meant each was a logical whole unto itself. Perhaps the Second was the finest in its contrasts between the grand and imperious and the playful. The interpretatively tricky Fourth was pure magic, with Leonskaya seemingly linking its elusive world to the Liszt Sonnets that opened the evening.

 

Leonskaya’s playing is like a beacon of light amongst contemporary pianists. An appreciative audience seemed to echo these sentiments. Debussy’s Feux d’artifice was the highlight of the encores. Horn-calls were stunningly evoked, as we suddenly entered the world of Puck and Oberon. Faultless glissandi and a supremely even left-hand tremolando underpinning the ‘Marseillaise’ quote left us in no doubt as to Leonskaya’s stature.

 

 

 

Colin Clarke