Arthur Rowe in Recital

Arthur Rowe, piano

Phillip T Young Recital Hall
November 6, 2010

By Deryk Barker

Enrique Granados must surely be the only notable composer who has died as a result of a Presidential whim.

In New York for the 1916 premiere of his opera Goyescas (the European premiere, scheduled for 1914, was cancelled because of the war), he received a last-minute invitation to perform at Woodrow Wilson's White House.

Granados's acceptance of the invitation meant missing his ship to return home to Spain; instead, he sailed to England and there boarded the steamer Sussex to travel to Dieppe. Unfortunately, the Sussex was torpedoed in mid-channel.

Ironically, Granados - who had a lifelong fear of water, and whose first ocean voyages these were - made it to a lifeboat, but then, seeing his wife still in the water, jumped back in to go to her aid. Both perished. (Incidentally, true connoisseurs of irony will appreciate the further detail that the Sussex broke in two and only half sank. The other half, which included the Granados's cabin, was towed safely to port, along with most of its passengers.)

It was with Granados's Allegro di Concierto that Arthur Rowe closed his superb recital on Saturday night.

Rowe's recital opened with the Sonata Hob. XVI:23 by Haydn - the only composer of the evening who was not also a notable pianist. It was stylishly played, with a crisp, yet never dry sound; the opening movement was elegantly energetic, the adagio fluid and profound, the finale brisk and playful.

For the Sonata, K.284 by Mozart, which followed, Rowe adopted a slightly bigger sound, entirely appropriate as this is a more dramatic work than the Haydn. The highlight was the theme and variations finale, whose theme might have flown in from Figaro; the variations themselves were superbly characterised.

If there is one composer who reveals the soul of the piano more than any other, that composer is surely Frederyk Chopin.

The second half of Rowe's recital opened with the Barcarolle, Op.60, in a performance distinguished by a rich, clean tone and a fine, subtle sense of rubato - the key to great Chopin playing.

Next came a group of the Op.25 études, culminating in number eleven, the so-called "Winter Wind" study, in which Rowe unleashed a veritable torrent of sound.

Although best-known (and loved) for his piano concertos - or, to be precise, the second and third and the Paganini Rhapsody - Sergei Rachmaninov was one of the greatest pianists in history and his solo piano works arguably reflect his true greatness far better.

Consider, for example, his Prelude Op.23, No.6, the first of a group of four Rowe gave us from the Opp.23 and 32 sets. This is lush and lusciously lyrical music, yet without a hint of the schmaltz which many of us discern in the concertos. At least, not when played this well.

Finally, the Allegro di Concierto by the ill-fated Granados. This is seriously virtuosic music, from its dramatic opening to its exuberant close, although leavened by sunlit lyricism, albeit a lyricism which does not sound so obviously "Spanish" as music by, for example, Ravel and Chabrier - oh, wait...

Throughout the evening Rowe showed a total mastery of each of the composers' different idioms and produced a wide variety of tone colours, each one entirely suited to the music in question.

Indeed, there was only one negative aspect to the evening: the fact that the Phillip T Young was not packed to the rafters. Perhaps there is an aspect of "a prophet is not without honour" in this, but it is to be regretted; Arthur Rowe is a world-class pianist and he doesn't give a solo recital every week.

This was a very distinguished recital indeed.


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