Thunder and Calm

By BLC

Brahms: Intermezzi, Op.117, #1,2,3 — Beethoven: Sonata #32 in C minor, Op. 111 — Prokofiev: Sonata #6 , 0p. 82 — Greg Wramage : Solitudes #1; Nightshade*; La tristesse durera * — Frederik Van Rossum: Ballade Op. 49 **. Carine Gutlerner, piano; Star Concert Productions. Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall. February 26, 2006.
(*World premiere. **U.S. premiere)

Carine Gutlerner, the Franco-Belgian pianist, performing her "sole New York recital" (according to the program), proved a model musician to watch as well as to listen to. She is quite obviously mindful of her audience. Her bows seem to be carefully practiced. Her walk-on and her exit are fastidiously mannered. Her playing, while hardly genteel, is assured and geared to the cult of the solo artist in complete control. One cannot imagine her ever at the piano with a page turner.   But there was one glimmer of seeming unconsciousness we noticed that was quite unusual. During her playing, when one hand was free for a moment, she seemed to be moving the palm of that hand as if to conduct an invisible orchestra. Was it our imagination? Perhaps, but if the case, it would explain this pianist's inner musical thought process as much as her keyboard control.

Of late we have been sidestepping mixed programs of old and new music because of our coverage limitations. But it is always good to hear a pianist taking on the towering works of the past, such as the last sonata of Beethoven.   Ms. Gutlerner dove into it with thunder and lightning, seeing it, perhaps, as Beethoven's heirs saw his final works, as stupendous monuments. (Brahms, of course, worshipped Beethoven, and in his own First Sonata we can hear him in Ludwig's tomb with the Fifth Symphony motto pulsating quietly but assuredly in the left hand.) The three-note motto of the Sonata #32 that sets up the first theme has been borrowed by Schubert and Mahler in their own way for dramatic effect, as well as adoration. And that's exactly how our soloist played it.

No doubt Ms. Gutlerner very carefully chose the delicate Opus 117 intermezzi of Brahms to open her program. And it was surely no random decision of hers to end the program with a repeated performance of the second of those pieces. It is said that they were meant as love songs for Clara Wieck, the wife of Robert Schumann, and we have no reason to doubt that interpretation. This pianist did not want the new members of her audience to think of her as but a Stürm und Drang artist, but also one quite capable of offering genuine moments of calm and tenderness.

Now to the more recent works. The sonata of Prokofiev, made up of six movements, offers challenges for any pianist. The movements are short and can be mistakenly interpreted as those of a suite if one is not mindful of the formal structure of each part. One assesses Ms. Gutlerner's reading as sophisticated; she understood the nature of each movement and gave us the most sensible tempi and dynamics of the sonata.

The three short selections of Gregg Wramage, a young thirtyish composer with already many citations and signs of serious recognition to his credit, reveals a composer comfortable with the range and subtlety of the piano. The first piece was one of seven written expressly for pianist Bruce Levingston, after a recital in which the composer was very much moved by the entire recital process, particularly the idea of being alone with many eyes upon you. Some further research led to the title Seven Solitudes, drawn from Nietzsche. Whether Ms. Gutlerner was aware of all of that or not, she certainly seemed to capture the nature of the solitude expressed here, and one can attribute that to common understanding among all artists everywhere. La tristesse durera , the piano version of an orchestral work, is drawn from Van Gogh, an artist from the soloist's own environs. It, too, requires much thoughtfulness, and so those fleeting moments cry out for further listening. This composer has and will continue to have much to say. [E-mail: < gwramage@hotmail.com >]

Finally, Frederick Van Rossum, a Belgian composer born in 1939 and a pianist himself, surely had the likes of Ms. Gutlerner in mind when he wrote his Ballade. This is music with grand sweeping gestures that serves her very well, indeed, as if she was born to play it. One should not, however, attempt to associate this Ballade with any of those written by Chopin. It is very much in the modern Gallic style and requires a very specific sensitivity. Its being followed by the Brahms intermezzo seemed exactly right for Ms. Gutlerner's program.

[For a CD of Van Rossum's music : Frédéric Menguy (piano) RENE GAILLY RG 87129 (66:48)]