Jonathan Bass, Pianist
Franco Center, Lewiston
June 1, 2018
by Christopher Hyde
The final concert of the 2017-18 Piano Series, June 1 at Lewiston’s Franco Center, ended on a low note— “D” three octaves below Middle “C,” to be exact.
Sorry, I always wanted to write that, now that I don’t have to worry about an editor or headline composer.
The concert did end on the lowest note of Chopin’s Prelude 24, Opus 28, but Jonathan Bass, Professor of Piano at Boston Conservatory at Berklee, had just played a concert that exemplified everything that was best about the series—which deserves to be better known throughout Maine.
Bass is everything a pianist should be, encompassing technical brilliance without showiness, musical and emotional depth, careful thought and an architectural sense of structure. He has a huge dynamic range, and what impressed me most about his performance was his extremely delicate and controlled pianissimo, probably the hardest thing to do well on the piano. After his interpretation of Debussy’s “L’isle joyeuse,“ I would dearly love to hear his “Serenade for the Doll.”
The Debussy was preceded by a little known Nocturne No. 6 in D-flat Major, Op. 63, of Gabriel Fauré, a sonata-like work with abundant pianistic filagree, that established an historical context for the more Impressionist piece. The coloring of both was superb.
Bass is no slouch in conveying drama, either, as evidenced by the Beethoven Sonata No. 26 in E-flat Major, Op. 81a, with its three movements entitled “Farewell,” “Absence” and “Return.” The final “very lively” section was Beethoven at his wildest, with crashing sforzandos, violent but joyous contrasts and virtuoso passagework. It also had more false cadences than the Gobi Desert has mirages. The small but enlightened audience didn’t bite on a single one.
After intermission, with its traditional wine, crepes and tortieres, everything came together with a rare performance of all 24 Chopin Preludes of Opus 28. in numerical order. Andre Gide called these Chopin’s “eagle feathers” and Bass pointed out that if the composer had written nothing else, the Preludes would have made him world-famous anyway.
The Preludes run the gamut of emotions from Beethoven-esque violence, through rain in Majorca, to a wistful and short waltz, and the world’s most somber funeral march. I had virtually no quarrel with any of Bass’ readings. In fact, a recording of the set could serve as a model for aspiring pianists.
I did think that the difficult No. 8 was a bit fast, but I’d like to be able to play it at that tempo, then slow down if necessary, instead of vice versa.
After that astonishing performance, there was no need for an encore.
A friend in the audience, who agrees with my prejudice against encores, especially after soul-wrenching concertos, had a brilliant suggestion. Why not play the encore first? A bit of technically demanding fluff would warm up the soloist and show his or her ability to play the most difficult cadenzas of the premiere work on the program. The audience would not have to worry about whether the soprano could hit high C and they could go home whistling themes from the concerto. Just a suggestion…
Christopher Hyde is a writer and musician who lives in Pownal, He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.