The Spanish pianist Javier Perianes arrived in İstanbul hotfoot from a lunchtime recital at the Wigmore Hall the previous day, and is to be heartily congratulated for showing no sign of jetlag; indeed, he amply demonstrated that the lyricism for which he has been justly praised by the critics cannot be compromised by the experience of being shaken around in an airborne tin box for three hours. As he appeared to be perfectly unruffled, one also assumes that he had arrived in Emirgan early enough to have avoided the spectacular traffic jams on the roads leading out to this pleasant neck of the Bosphorus from the city centre.
The programme of his recital (No. 99 in the ‘İstanbul Recitals’ series, instituted by the late Mehmet Kâmil Şükûn) was made up of works by Manuel de Falla, Chopin and Debussy – mostly those of Debussy’s works that were inspired by Spain. Mr. Perianes opened with de Falla’s Nocturne in F minor, a happy marriage between Chopin and Spanish folk music that was first performed by the composer in 1899, and continued with the Nocturne in C-sharp minor (Op. posth.) by Chopin himself, a piece that was made famous by the film The Pianist. At this point, it became apparent that in the shape of Javier Bey we have a pianist who understands that Chopin must not be played too fast, and your reviewer relaxed happily into his chair: the performer was well aware that you can showcase your technique without sacrificing anything of your sensitivity – or, more importantly, that of the composer.
This was followed by Chopin’s rather Schumannesque Prelude No. 1 in C major, Op. 28, and after this brief work came the first of the Debussy pieces, 'Danseuses de Delphes' from Préludes Book 1, its muted introversion forming a stark contrast with the exuberantly self-assured style of the Chopin. In fact, the rest of the first half of the programme alternated between these two composers. In adopting such juxtapositions, the pianist set himself a formidable task: Debussy was less than fond of the polished and ‘declarative’ jeu perlé style of the Paris salons, and as a result Mr Perianes initially had some trouble manifesting the chameleon-like psychological dexterity needed to move so rapidly between the worlds of the extravert (Chopin) and the introvert (Debussy). 'Danseuses de Delphes' was, frankly, too loud, and this made the fortissimo chord right at the end less of the shock it was intended to be. May I respectfully suggest that next time the pianist performs this repertoire, he replace this piece with 'Bruyères' from Préludes Book 2? Apart from the merits of the work itself, it would have the advantage of landing him in A-flat major, from which the D-flat of the next piece would be a logical step.
Then we were back with Chopin, and the pianist gave a gorgeous rendition of the Berceuse, Op. 57. Oh, what a lovely legato! All the complex figures in the right hand were beautifully even, and all the detail – including the lower parts in the contrapuntal passages – was meticulously brought out. For those interested in pursuing the varieties of interpretation to which this piece lends itself, I would recommend giving an ear to these performances by five pianists, accompanied by excellent notes:
Yet another – and this time more successful – Debussy/Chopin contrast began with 'Clair de lune'; from the Suite bergamasque. Mr Perianes chose a slow tempo for the first part, speeding up only when the music demanded it and keeping the ever-tempting rubato at bay until it was actually called for. He is all the more to be congratulated for this as so many pianists get the tempi for this piece entirely wrong. Then came Les sons et les parfums tournent dans l’air du soir from Debussy’s Préludes Book 1. There are so many stops and starts in this work that it is easy to lose the underlying rhythm, and regrettably Mr. Perianes did not always succeed in maintaining a sense of direction. Debussy marked the last bars ‘Like a far-off sound of horns’; they should have been quieter and more distant. The first half concluded with Chopin’s Ballade No. 4 in F minor, Op. 52, and here the constantly changing moods (in which a threatening moodiness alternates with outbursts of aggressive pyrotechnics) were well and truly captured with effortless technical skill.
Mr. Perianes began the second half of his recital with three works by Debussy in which the composer attempted to reproduce the genres of Spanish music. In this he was remarkably successful, especially in view of the fact that Spain was a country he never visited. The concert programme actually called for La sérénade interrompue (from Préludes Book 1) to be played first, but instead the pianist began with La puerta del Vino from Préludes Book 2; he strode onto the platform and immediately stopped the chatterers in their tracks with the opening bars of this arresting habanera. I have to say that Javier Bey’s performance of the two above-mentioned pieces plus La soirée dans Grenade (‘Evening in Granada’, inspired by a picture of the Alhambra Palace) from Estampes was a revelation to your humble reviewer: never before had I heard them played with the tautness that characterises authentic Spanish rhythm. Other pianists, take note!
The rest of the programme comprised pieces by de Falla: El Amor Brujo (‘Love, the Magician’) and Fantasia Baetica – a work that takes its name from the Roman province of Baetis, now southern Spain. I was not anticipating that Mr. Perianes would be able to reproduce the ‘in-your-face’ style of Alicia de Larrocha, the Spanish pianist who despite being only 4 feet 9 inches in height (and with short fingers to match) managed to convey all the sinewy fire of Manuel de Falla’s supremely Spanish works. I was wrong, and all credit to Javier Bey both for succeeding in this and for not destroying the instrument in the process. This piano playing was … ON. I just hope all those glissandos didn’t hurt his fingers. As an aside: for those interested in experiencing Alicia de Larrocha’s masterly pianism, follow the links below:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=unR6coI5rgI
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gpfh0VMrhS4
Much gratitude to the organisers of the İstanbul Recitals for bringing Javier Perianes to İstanbul. Next time, perhaps, he can give us a concert of all Debussy’s ‘moony’ pieces (especially La terrasse des audiences du clair de lune) performed at three in the morning on a moonlight night. Perhaps, even, the piano could be moved onto the terrace outside the concert hall. Maybe, at that hour, there would be no traffic noise – just the Bosphorus gliding by …