Review: Freddy Kempf
By Patrick McCrae
Monday 2nd November 2009
Monday 2nd November 2009
Freddy Kempf must have been disappointed when he got onto the cold stage to perform to a half-empty auditorium at Cambridge’s not-so-great *Corn Exchange*. He has sold out tours of Europe, America and Australia from an early age, but it seems it was too late for the academic masses to venture out. However, in spite of this he played a sublime, and at times, phantasmal concert.
The first piece was Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 8 in C minor, Op. 13, the *Pathetique*. It’s a popular sonata and a crowd-pleaser, but he carried it off with such humour and novel interpretation that Emil Giles would have been jealous! The first movement (Grave – *Allegro di molto e con brio*) was slightly marred by some sound issues with the bass notes and what we thought was probably ‘over-micing’. However, from the first mid-chord sforzando -piano (how does he do it?!) we knew we were in for a display of technical agility. Kempf played it near flawlessly and surprised the audience by picking out oft ignored melodic lines in the recitative. In the “Adagio cantabile” his fingers sang the melody while he maintained a regulated pace. He shone in the “Rondo”, where his animated playing, coupled with jovial (almost fun), use of timing drew smiles and made for a seamless end to the first sonata.
From C Minor, we then modulated to C Major for Beethoven’s Waldstein Sonata (No. 21, Op.53). Repeats in the first movement (“Allegro con brio”) that lesser pianists play with predictable monotony, were slightly different each time giving the piece a fresh tone. In the “Rondo”, he had the audience in awe; his interpretation was authoritative and amazing to watch.
The first half of the concert was light in comparison to the second, where Kempf took us to the gates of hell and then up to heaven with Liszt’s Dante Sonata. It is a piece inspired by the Inferno and Kempf’s ability to conjure up the most illustrious images of the afterlife in his performance was both terrifying and astounding. The chromatic D Minor chords creeping up and down the piano with laughable ease had, at least me and those I spoke to afterwards, on a providential trip!
We were then treated to Liszt’s transcription of Isolde’s ‘Libestod’. Albeit already helped by an immaculately scored piece, Kempf’s romantic, excited and energetic take conjured great images of the resolution of Wagner’s opera. As the piece climaxed and the protagonists’ love was confirmed in death, a previously fidgety audience was deadly still, fixated on the pianist.
The last scheduled piece was Liszt’s Mephisto Waltz No. 1. He played with animation, power and demonic fervour. His performance outstripped the recording of Giuseppe Andaloro and sped up Rubenstein’s version to create a unique expression. The powerful opening was then contrasted with his conscientious interpretation of Faustus (the inspiration’s) demonic activities. When the piano literally jerked to a halt, the audience sat for moments before applauding to contemplate Kempf’s display of wide virtuosic range and ability.
Three times he left and came back before we earned an encore and what a piece to end on: the second of Chopin’s most illustrious Nocturnes, the “Lento sostenuto”, from the Op. 27 (No.2). As he played the audience were allowed time to reflect on a concert that seemed to speed by. He took us from the free, to the enslaved, expressing the demonic and the providential via love, death and passion.
The first piece was Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 8 in C minor, Op. 13, the *Pathetique*. It’s a popular sonata and a crowd-pleaser, but he carried it off with such humour and novel interpretation that Emil Giles would have been jealous! The first movement (Grave – *Allegro di molto e con brio*) was slightly marred by some sound issues with the bass notes and what we thought was probably ‘over-micing’. However, from the first mid-chord sforzando -piano (how does he do it?!) we knew we were in for a display of technical agility. Kempf played it near flawlessly and surprised the audience by picking out oft ignored melodic lines in the recitative. In the “Adagio cantabile” his fingers sang the melody while he maintained a regulated pace. He shone in the “Rondo”, where his animated playing, coupled with jovial (almost fun), use of timing drew smiles and made for a seamless end to the first sonata.
From C Minor, we then modulated to C Major for Beethoven’s Waldstein Sonata (No. 21, Op.53). Repeats in the first movement (“Allegro con brio”) that lesser pianists play with predictable monotony, were slightly different each time giving the piece a fresh tone. In the “Rondo”, he had the audience in awe; his interpretation was authoritative and amazing to watch.
The first half of the concert was light in comparison to the second, where Kempf took us to the gates of hell and then up to heaven with Liszt’s Dante Sonata. It is a piece inspired by the Inferno and Kempf’s ability to conjure up the most illustrious images of the afterlife in his performance was both terrifying and astounding. The chromatic D Minor chords creeping up and down the piano with laughable ease had, at least me and those I spoke to afterwards, on a providential trip!
We were then treated to Liszt’s transcription of Isolde’s ‘Libestod’. Albeit already helped by an immaculately scored piece, Kempf’s romantic, excited and energetic take conjured great images of the resolution of Wagner’s opera. As the piece climaxed and the protagonists’ love was confirmed in death, a previously fidgety audience was deadly still, fixated on the pianist.
The last scheduled piece was Liszt’s Mephisto Waltz No. 1. He played with animation, power and demonic fervour. His performance outstripped the recording of Giuseppe Andaloro and sped up Rubenstein’s version to create a unique expression. The powerful opening was then contrasted with his conscientious interpretation of Faustus (the inspiration’s) demonic activities. When the piano literally jerked to a halt, the audience sat for moments before applauding to contemplate Kempf’s display of wide virtuosic range and ability.
Three times he left and came back before we earned an encore and what a piece to end on: the second of Chopin’s most illustrious Nocturnes, the “Lento sostenuto”, from the Op. 27 (No.2). As he played the audience were allowed time to reflect on a concert that seemed to speed by. He took us from the free, to the enslaved, expressing the demonic and the providential via love, death and passion.