Barry Douglas
St Canice’s Cathedral, Kilkenny
★★★★☆
There was something of the sense of a raw force of nature about Barry Douglas’s piano recital of Schubert and Liszt at St Canice’s Cathedral in Kilkenny on Monday. It was a force of nature engaged in an ongoing struggle, the kind of struggle that audiences love, especially when it results in a daredevil delivery that packs a sure emotional punch. On this occasion the struggle was amplified by the often sour tone of the Steinway he had been provided with.
That’s not to suggest that Douglas is anything on the lines of a notes-by-the-yard virtuoso. Yes, he can definitely spin notes by the yard. But he always seems to test himself to the limit by not bending the tempo in the face of challenges that most pianists yield to, rather like a Formula 1 driver who can corner with an almost supernatural consistency.
At other times, of course, he is liberal in his approach to time-bending. And his work is always fascinating for his skill in the voicing of chords, and his way with extreme dynamic contrast, which has more to do with atmosphere than with literal loudness and softness.
How did all this translate for the listener at Monday’s performances? There were a few glitches in unexpected places, but they were minor in the bigger scheme of things. Schubert’s Impromptu in F minor, D935 No 1, was dark, troubled, soulful; the Impromptu in A flat, D935 No 2, was more incisive, less lyrical than it is often presented.
The same composer’s Sonata in A minor, D845, had a biting ferocity, the filigree of the slow movement kept on a tight rein, the blackness of the music faithfully conveyed. The main rhythmic motif of the scherzo was treated like a little whiplash, the finale like a breathless ride.
Liszt’s Sonata in B minor was fiery, radiant, intimate, thrilling. When Douglas really gets the bit between his teeth he’s one of the most exciting players around.
