Pianist Richard Goode
Olin Arts Center, Bates College
Oct. 28, 2017
by Christopher Hyde
Pianist Richard Goode is a man of a thousand voices, as was apparent from his recital at Bates’ Olin Arts Center Saturday night.
Goode is a great pianist, as unconventional in his way as the late Glenn Gould, and one of his defining characteristics is the ability to make the piano imitate the instruments of the orchestra, something that stands him in good stead when delineating hitherto unheard voices in familiar works.
The ability showed itself immediately in four preludes and fugues from the second book of “The Well-Tempered Clavier.” One is accustomed to chasing the theme through its various transformations in a Bach fugue. Goode makes it easy, even with the most long-limbed and Baroque motifs of Book Two. He also reveals relationships between the lines more clearly than anyone I have heard since Walter Gieseking.
Another ability came to the fore in his superlative rendition of the Alban Berg Piano Sonata, Op. 1, (ca. 1910)—musical intelligence. Listening to Goode’s interpretation revealed structure and development in a way that made the work effective musically, something that analysis never accomplishes.
The Berg was followed by one of Beethoven’s weirdest children (a Halloween treat?): the Sonata No. 28 in A Major, Op. 101. Maybe the composer was doing penance for the “Moonlight,” but even the indications are a little much, for example ”Geschwindt, doch nicht zu sehr und mit Entsclossenheit. Allegro,” before the final movement. (Rapidly but not too much so, and with determination.”)
Goode made it sound even more strange than it is. Good or bad, it was certainly an unconventional reading, but with Beethoven’s characteristic abrupt changes in mood and dynamics. (Goode’s dynamics, for Sunday evening at least, ranged from mp to fff, sometimes in the same second, with the Steinway in brilliant mode.)
HIs iconoclastic approach, while still exciting, was not as successful in the second half of the program, devoted entirely to Chopin. Nevertheless, his unsentimental renditions brought out the musical, rather than emotional, beauties of the works. The four Mazurkas managed to combine danceable rhythms with the complexity of the Bach preludes heard earlier.
Merely following the tempo indications of the familiar Nocturne in C-sharp minor (Op. 47) was unusual enough. In every example on the program Goode tossed off the most fantastic of Chopin’s elaborate ornamentations gracefully and in tempo.
The final work on the program, the great Barcarolle in F-sharp major (Op. 60) sounded like the gondolier was competing at Henle. (I couldn’t resist, but the tempo was a little fast for traditional ears.)
That said, it was absolutely wonderful. More wonderful still is the fact that the pianist actually found the real climax of the piece and never approached it again, no matter how tempting the later surges became. This is something rare in virtuoso pianists, no matter what their reputation.
It resulted in a sanding ovation from the large audience, and an encore of a William Byrd Pavane and Gailiarde, which presage both Bach and Chopin.
Christopher Hyde is a writer and musician who lives in Pownal. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.