actually plays the pianist Jan Lisiecki at his piano recital in the Prinzregententheater only a series of 24 shorter Chopin pieces. Etudes, Nocturnes. Pieces that are picked out individually are pretty additions. In context, however, the effect is completely different: a whole pianistic world opens up when Lisiecki groups the different moods and technical requirements of the pieces into a large cycle, only interrupted before the break and once spontaneously by applause in between. The large arc that he spans almost evokes memories of a performance of the “Well-Tempered Clavier” in its unity – even though its cyclical rigor is of course not adhered to.
The light in the hall is completely dimmed, only the pianist and the piano are illuminated. This creates a strong focus. It is all the more astonishing that the visual and acoustic impressions sometimes differ greatly: Lisiecki has grown tall. Roaring virtuosity over the breadth of the keyboard, as in the opening Etude in C major op. 10/1, seems downright casual thanks to the generous pianistic anatomy. It is all the more astonishing that Lisiecki’s playing with intimate melodic lines, as in the famous Nocturne op. 9/2, looks somewhat edgy at a few moments due to small pushing movements of the hand and arm.
You close your eyes – and the irritation is gone. Because Lisiecki’s tone sounds simply beautiful. He phrases the musical lines gracefully and elegantly, but always naturally flowing. In Lisiecki, the parts of the piano writing are ideally weighted even when he touches the treble so ethereally or the filigree ornaments are designed so quietly that an extremely careful grounding is required. In doing so, Lisiecki also allows strong contrasts to collide and in no way shies away from the monumental in other places. The result is a great, musically exhilarating story.