[Editor’s note: Unable to attend this concert, I asked Erik Dyar to write a review for PENINSULA REVIEWS. Mr. Dyar, an architect by profession, is also an accomplished pianist who performed a recital in Carmel, California last year.]Â
Hearing Arcadi Volodos in recital on Sunday night at Davies Hall in San Francisco convinced me that he is a pianist of whom legends are made. Mr. Volodos put on a display of incredible pianism and musicianship that had to be heard to be believed. Â
The last time we had the opportunity to hear him live was in a Carmel Music Society recital in Carmel’s Sunset Center in November 2000, where much of his program was devoted to works by Schubert, Schumann, and Brahms. This turned out to be a disappointment after hearing his recordings of Rachmaninoff and Scriabin, where Volodos convinces us that he is one of the great interpreters of these two composers. Fortunately, on Sunday night, we had ample opportunity to observe his strengths as an artist and performer, since the first half was devoted exclusively to Rachmaninoff and Scriabin. Â
At the beginning of the program, he created a hypnotic soundscape around Scriabin’s lush, ambiguous harmonies and intense textures. One way you know you are hearing a great artist is, if during a performance, you can’t imagine anyone playing the work better. This was certainly true here, and this conviction has remained with me. Volodos’ performance was so convincing that it made me hope he will record all of Scriabin’s important works for posterity, but most certainly the sonatas. One can never be sure when someone of Volodos’ gifts will come along and fit so appropriately with this composer’s music. Â
Beginning with two small pieces, Enigme, opus 52, No. 2 and Guirlandes, opus 73, No.2,  Volodos created an ethereal, magical atmosphere which enveloped the hall and held the audience in rapt attention throughout the first half of the program. After these two miniatures set the mood, the Sonata No. 7, opus 64, which followed, revealed a new intensity and an extraordinary emotional range of dynamics and colors. Throughout this dense music, Volodos was able to layer and balance his playing toward distinctly musical ends, somehow framing these difficult (for audience and pianist) scores so that they become coherent to the listener — not an easy feat with Scriabin. Â
It might be significant to mention here how Volodos himself describes his approach to playing. In a 1998 interview, he said he tries to develop a “sound image†in his mind and then “projects this onto the keys.†He uses this description to explain his amazing technical prowess. By not overly concentrating on the minutiae of the act of playing, he is able to place emphasis on the overall sound he is creating and bring together the various details into a balanced whole. He says this approach probably came from his background, since he began his musical studies with singing and conducting, not taking up the piano seriously until he was 16. Whether this explanation is accurate or not, Volodos does produce a sound which is unique and powerful. Â
Following the Scriabin, Volodos performed a series of 10 pieces by Rachmaninoff. These were all gems in their way. Volodos was able to continue the enigmatic mood begun with the Scriabin, allowing for a nice comparison of the two composer’s musical styles. What perhaps separates the two most distinctly (apart from harmonics), as demonstrated from these selections, is the emphasis on lyricism and melody of Rachmaninoff. Volodos’ ability to balance and orchestrate the melody versus texture served him extremely well here. The ease at which he is able to play extremely difficult passages allows him to de-emphasize textures that belong appropriately in the background. Less technically gifted pianists, by comparison, may by necessity be struggling just to get through them. It should be noted that absolutely nothing seems difficult for Volodos. His playing thus focuses more on the sound production, and gorgeous sounds are produced as a result. As with the Scriabin, I was left hoping that he has the opportunity to record as much of the Rachmaninoff repertoire as he can.Â
The last piece on the first half was Volodos’ own arrangement for solo piano of Rachmaninoff’s ‘Polka Italienne’. And here we heard another characteristic of Volodos that is irrepressible—his showmanship. This was a flashy showpiece, which left the audience in awe of the sheer virtuosity of this musician. One can perhaps discount the musical significance of a piece like this, but it does allow the audience to appreciate pianistic pyrotechnics as few have ever achieved.Â
The second half of the program began with a complete change of pace — Schubert’s Sonata in A-flat major, D. 557. This early sonata was composed in 1817 when Schubert was 20. This is a sonata that is most clearly influenced by Haydn and Mozart. Volodos’ latest recording is, in fact, all Schubert, including the G major Sonata. Obviously, he does not want to be pigeonholed as the stereotypical “virtuoso†pianist. With this Schubert Sonata, the lyricism that served him well in denser works still succeeds in this music, and the work was most beautifully played. But, what separates, Volodos from many pianists is his ability in the romantic/post-romantic repertoire. While there are many pianists today who excel in the classic repertoire, there are distinctly fewer who can be considered great romantic virtuosi.Â
Three selections from Liszt followed, which brought us back to the repertoire where Volodos is truly outstanding. These works were interesting in that they were not typical Liszt virtuosic showpieces, but evoked more of an enigmatic mood that linked them to the first half of the program (with nevertheless some moments of Lisztian virtuosity thrown in). They began with the Sonnet No. 123 of Petrarch, followed by Consolation No. 6 in E major, and concluding with Il penseroso, from the second volume of the Années de pélerinage. The Il penseroso is dark and almost funereal, fading away in the end to silence.Â
This sets the background for the final piece of the program, Saint-Saens’ Danse Macabre, transcribed by Liszt. This is a dark, intense piece as well, but is a virtuosic powerhouse and ended the regular program with a display of amazing, exultant élan. This was, despite any Schubertian ambitions, the epitome of virtuosity. Comparisons with Horowitz are inevitable and are deserved.Â
After such a performance, there was an immediate standing ovation along with many woops and hollers–I could tell I was not in Carmel, California. Volodos was persuaded to give four encores. They included two more short Scriabin pieces with qualities similar to the two works, which began the recital. He also played a blistering account of an Etude de virtuosité by Moszkowski. He concluded, not to disappoint a clearly adoring crowd, with his own version of Horowitz’s Carmen Variations.Â
Horowitz is no longer with us, but for those who missed out on hearing his brand of pianism live, Volodos goes a long way in living up to the legend.
