Date: January 10, 2005
see also: Press release | Bio | Concert

Jon Nakamatsu

Playing to a full house, and on his home turf at Le Petit Trianon, San Jose on Saturday, January 8, 2005, Jon Nakamatsu thrilled his many admirers with an evening of flawless, vivid pianism. This is becoming an annual event for the Steinway Society The Bay Area, and a second performance next afternoon was also sold out. The program notes described Rachmaninov's Corelli Variations as exhibiting “athletic clarity”, and this also captures the essence of Nakamatsu's style, provided that the athleticism is interpreted in terms of precisely controlled rapidity and sensitivity of touch, rather than more primitive physical effort and raw emotion. From year to year (it is now nearly eight years since his Van Cliburn Gold Medal), his playing goes from strength to strength.

The mental acuity evident in Nakamatsu's playing also shows when he speaks. True to form, he included some little known works in his program, and he gave an eloquent introduction to the five dances from Tjeknavorian's Danses Fantastiques, recounting how he had met the much older composer in San Francisco, which led to friendship and enthusiasm for his music, with its strong Armenian influences. The dances – rhythmic, graceful, lyric, elegiac, and ecstatic in turn – are in an approachable idiom, with mainly diatonic melodies and often ostinato accompaniments, and they were played with conviction. The first dance is heavily rhythmic, the second is quiet, while the third has more of a waltz bass. The fourth in the set builds from sad restlessness to a stormy climax before subsiding, and this prepares for the dazzling gallop of the finale, with virtuoso thumping chords and pyrotechnics.

The concert had begun with four Scarlatti sonatas. The G minor sonata, L.338, was bright and insistently rhythmic, with impeccably executed decorations and dynamic contrasts. The sonata in E major, L.430, was notable for cascading arpeggios and some pp magic. Perhaps the most recognizable of the group was the C minor sonata, L.352, which served as a slow movement, while the D minor, L.422, sparkled with Scarlatti's favorite quickfire repeated notes. The C minor seemed to be the most successful interpretation, with its simple pianissimo and delicate crossing of the left hand to pick out the melody. Otherwise, something of Scarlatti's crystalline style and wit seemed to have been lost in the transition to the modern grand piano, even with some hardness of tone. It was paradoxical that Nakamatsu seemed to overuse the sustaining pedal in Scarlatti, when, as he exhibited later, his economical use of the pedal enabled him to achieve exceptional clarity in thunderous romantic climaxes.

Rachmaninov's Variations on a theme by Corelli, Op. 42, are fascinating, although rarely heard – except at Le Petit Trianon, where they were also performed by Olga Kern sixteen months ago. Beginning with a quiet theme that is intriguing within its short compass, Rachmaninov produces twenty variations that have an immense cumulative effect before the brief pp return of the theme. This was the composer's last work for solo piano, and much of it is more austere and cerebral than his most popular works, although even more interesting on that account since his thought processes come through so clearly, with his great gift of organic development of themes that often (as here) meander stepwise. Nakamatsu held the attention throughout, clearly characterizing the rhythmic transformations in the successive variations, including jagged declamations, a slow waltz, a dotted 6/8, running figures, stilted Pierrot-like movements, and hesitations, leading to a rich central chorale, reminiscent of Bach but with different harmonic surprises. From here on, there is more of the concerto-scale writing that we expect from Rachmaninov, and Nakamatsu was in masterly form, reveling in the grand manner before dropping to a repeated bass note to end the penultimnate variation, and passing via dreamy high notes over low rumbles to the soft ending. This was a fine performance, intermediate in its structural approach between the live performance of Kern which built up more gradually from the coolness of the theme to full-blown romanticism, and her recent recording in which even the first variation is restlessly dramatic.

With his two Chopin selections, Nakamatsu moved into familiar territory, but provided new insights. The F sharp major Nocturne, Op.15 No.2, was notable for fresh subtleties within its clear rhythmic framework, with a beautiful flow to the doppio movimento section, and fine filigree decorations. The C sharp minor Scherzo No.3, Op.39 had a grand full-toned start, and was especially memorable for the perfectly judged balance between the tenor melodic phrases and the pretty two-handed cascades that interleave them without disturbing the underlying pulse.

Three pieces by Liszt completed the program. The Impromptu for Princess Gortschakoff was delightfully restrained with its soft-pedaled ripples and wistful melodic fragments. The A flat Valse Impromptu came over with effortless charm and delicious rubato. The grandstand finish of the Mephisto Waltz No.1 was brilliantly clean, without a trace of the splashiness that can afflict lesser performances, and received a deserved ovation.

The first encore was the always affecting Liszt transcription of Schumann's song Widmung, and this was followed by a brilliant exhibition of the wide range of moods of Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody No.2 in C sharp minor. The bouquet was still resting on the piano, and so we had one final encore, a magical performance of Debussy's Clair de Lune that opened new vistas – maybe we could hear Nakamatsu playing more Debussy on a future visit, since his clean rhythm and long phrasing are ideally suited to bringing the best out of this composer's atmospheric music. And, remembering the lucidity of his Stravinsky from the Van Cliburn competition, it would also be good to hear Nakamatsu show how enjoyable he can make the more challenging work of major modern composers.