There is a well-known YouTube video of a very young Yefim Bronfman playing in a masterclass for pianist Gina Bachauer. At the end of Bronfman’s performance, Bachauer was ask what she wanted to say to the young performer, upon which she replied, “I have nothing to say. God Bless you.” This brief video probably shows both what kind of a person Bachauer was, as well as the enormity of Bronfman’s talents.
I first heard Bronfman many years ago when he substituted for an indisposed Gary Graffman. Bronfman came on stage and simply stunned the audience with his performance of Saint-Saens’ Piano Concerto No. 2 in G minor. I immediately bought a ticket for the subsequent performance, and I have never yet missed any performance every time Bronfman visits Vancouver.
It has been many years since Bronfman had given a solo recital in Vancouver, and last night, he once again reminds us why he is one of today’s most outstanding musicians and artists. Bronfman has an absolute command of every facet of playing the piano, and there is nothing technically that is beyond him. At the same time, even in the relatively large space of Vancouver’s Orpheum Theatre, he was able to draw the audience in with the intimacy of his playing. Hearing him last night, I was reminded of Arthur Rubinstein, in the absolutely natural way he presents the music, without histrionics, and with simplicity and sincerity.
The opening work, Schubert’s Sonata in A minor, D. 784, was a case in point. Bronfman presented the beauty and emotional core of the work, simply and without affectation but with great beauty and depth of feeling. The Andante sang out in the most songful manner, and the Allegro vivace suitably ferocious.
In Schumann’s Faschingsschwank aus Wien, Op. 26, Bronfman brought out the absolute exuberance of the music, as well as its kaleidoscopic gamut of emotions, and carried us along in his very personal journey through the five movements of the work.
Conductor and composer Esa-Pekka Salonen wrote Sisar for Mr. Bronfman, and the pianist gave a performance of absolute conviction, from the capricious, dream-like opening to the more energetic and playful later sections.
Bronfman’s performance of Chopin’s Nocturne in D-flat Major, Op. 27, No. 2, again reminded me of Mr. Rubinstein, playing of great beauty, with sentiment and yet not sentimental, and projecting the bel canto melody right to the last row of the auditorium.
I had heard Bronfman perform Prokofiev’s Sonata No. 7 in B-flat Major, Op. 83, years ago in one of his previous visits to Vancouver, and I knew we would be in for a treat. It was much more than Bronfman’s absolute command and technical control of this complex, transcendentally-difficult score, but it is the way he drew this infinite variety of sound colours from the beautiful Steinway piano. In the second movement, Bronfman’s playing seemed to exude a kind of hypnotic effect with the music. And he really threw caution to the wind with the frenzy of the 3rd movement, thrilling us with his truly stunning playing of the toccata-like movement. The sound, or rather the pulse of this music, lingered in my mind long after the evening was over.
After such a performance, of course there were cheers and bravos from the audience, who were impressively attentive during the course of the evening. Bronfman graciously granted two encores – a rippling and songful performance of Schumann’s deceptively simple Arabeske, Op. 18, and a rip-roaring romp through Rachmaninoff’s Prelude in G minor, Op. 23, No. 5, bringing out the power and sweep of the opening and closing sections, without taking away the melancholy of the middle section. I was completely swept away by the tremendous power and energy he put into and drew from the music.
Bronfman’s last appearance in Vancouver was with the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra in a towering performance of Brahms’ towering Piano Concerto No. 2 in B-flat Major. It was a privilege to have heard this towering artist again, and I, for one, am already looking forward to his next visit.