Salley Koo, violin

Dawn Dongeun Wohn, violin

Daniel McDonough, cello

Alexander Solomon, piano

Bargemusic, Brooklyn, NY

May 17, 2025

Dari means “bridge” in Korean; this is what Salley Koo, a Korean-American violinist and Professor at the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign, told us during her recent performance at Bargemusic. Ms. Koo, using funding from the Campus Research Board of the said University, commissioned six Korean composers to write new works for her and her friends (violinist Dawn Dongeun Wohn, cellist Daniel McDonough, and pianist Alexander Solomon) to perform. In fact, as Ms. Koo kindly explained to us, each composer was asked to write two works: one for the performers I’ve mentioned (either solo, or in different combinations) and a companion piece, less challenging musically and technically, for Ms. Koo’s students to learn and hopefully present in concert, alone or side by side with their mentor. This project was meant to “bridge the gap” between Ms. Koo’s self-proclaimed enthusiasm in promoting new music (especially reflecting her heritage) and her students’ reluctance to tackle contemporary repertoire, both in the classroom and on stage. Sadly, on Saturday afternoon – when two performances took place, one at 2:00 pm and another at 4:00 pm – the relatively small audience was treated only to the first category of works (those written for Ms. Koo and her colleagues) while the second category (the pieces written for the students, which presumably had a much more evident educational purpose) were nowhere to be heard. I would have liked to see (and listen to) Ms. Koo perform along with one or two of her disciples these newly commissioned works, and perhaps then I could have better understood the educational value of this project. As it was, the result felt more like a vanity project for Ms. Koo rather than a much-needed and interesting foray into the rewards of exposing the younger generation to fresh and exciting new works.

The audience could find a piece of paper on each seat, prompting us to use a QR code if we wanted more information about the concert, the artists, and the works to be performed. I did so diligently, and the code sent me to the Bargemusic website where, after a bit of online fumbling, I was directed to the calendar of concerts. There I could see the names of the performers and the titles of the works, but nothing else; however, there was a link (which I had to copy and paste into my browser) which sent me to Ms. Koo’s site, where more details could be found about the Dari project. Alas, still no detailed program of the concert! After more research done with a certain amount of embarrassment, since I am a strong advocate of the “no cellphone use” policy at LIVE concerts, I finally found a link which sent me to a .pdf file in which all the information I was looking for could be found. So, from this moment on, every time I wanted to look up something in connection to what was being played on stage, I had to check my phone and possibly look (to the outside observer) as if I were texting or browsing the Internet instead on listening attentively- and I thought that we were making concentrated efforts to encourage people to disconnect from devices and give their full attention to the performance!

And now on to the pieces on the program- first came a solo violin work by Leo Chang, titled 78924, which was about as exciting as the title. Ms. Koo, accompanied by sound effects recorded on tape, produced long, sustained notes which eventually – through a series of waves of crescendos and decrescendos – became louder and more ominous. 

The second piece, by Texu Kim, was called Lots of As and a bunch of Bs – and it was exactly that! Still, the two performers (Ms. Koo was joined here by Dawn Dongeun Wohn) did their best and made reference, for the only time during the concert, to the raison’d’être of the project: the piece evoked a professor-student “in class” exploration of techniques, sonorities, and modes of expression. 

The first concert ended with Juri Seo’s piano trio July Mountain, which offered a fairly traditional soundscape along with beautiful teamwork between the three performers. This piece had more substance than the previous works and was very enjoyable to listen to. I spotted some influences from Michael Nyman’s movie soundtracks, heavy on atmosphere, but I found the acoustic of the place too resonant (frankly, loud) for the intimate effects that the music required.

For the 4:00 pm concert, Ms. Koo was back in her lovely traditional Korean outfit, matched by her usual cheer and sparkle, and started with Matthew Jihoon Pellegrino’s Sanjo Sonata. She played many notes, with obvious prowess and control, but the meaning of the music remained strangely opaque to my ears. While I am a strong advocate for using sheet music during a performance, I did wonder if perhaps memorizing the piece would have given Ms. Koo a wider perspective on the meaning of this work and help her rise above the technicalities in order to shape the content better. One of the characteristics of the work – as described in the program notes I was reading on my phone – is to increase speed from one section to the next. I very much enjoyed this concept, but I didn’t find that the tempo acceleration was matched by progress in intensity or drama.

At the heart of the second program was The unreal never lived by Kyong Mee Choi, a work for piano and violin. This work felt a bit long, but it was played with true commitment by both artists who seemed more emotionally invested here than in the other pieces on the program. The many dynamic contrasts were fully persuasive, and you could feel the energy emanating from these two talented musicians. 

Hee Yun Kim’s piano trio Reboot closed the concert and transported us to a different era, in which melody and harmony still reigned supreme. I admit it was lovely to listen to tango-like rhythms and phrases of luscious lyricism, which are rarer and rarer in today’s musical language. I enjoyed listening to each musician – and they all had their moments to shine! By the end of the piece, I did feel that its intentions were not fully realized, and by trying to be more accessible it became somewhat aimless and facile; but I still applaud Ms. Kim’s courage to use older tools in crafting a work for our times!

Since these two concerts were presumably meant to bridge a gap of understanding and appreciation between two generations of artists and encourage the younger ones to open up spiritually and professionally to new ways of making music, I wondered – again – if by commissioning such an ample project Ms. Koo is any closer to her declared goal. I sincerely hope so. On the other hand, there were so few young(er) people present on Saturday, and I’m sorry to report that a young man of 14 or 15, who was sitting directly behind me during the first concert, was fast asleep by the time the last note was played. The applause did wake him up, though, and perhaps that is suggestive of the fact that, even if we don’t necessarily understand something right away, being able to experience it (and witnessing other people’s enthusiasm about it) could be enough to spark one’s interest! And that is already an accomplishment.

by Matei Varga  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

BlackBox Ensemble; Dice Trio

DiMenna Center for Classical Music, New York, NY

May 10, 2025

On a beautiful afternoon in New York City, a small but dedicated group of supporters of contemporary music gathered at the DiMenna Center to listen to a prize winners’ concert. The Dwight & Ursula Mamlok Prize is awarded every year to a soloist and/or an ensemble making a significant contribution to the performance of contemporary music, with a special focus on Ursula Mamlok’s compositions; the presentation of the prize alternates between New York and Berlin.

We were treated to the performances of two groups of talented musicians: the BlackBox Ensemble (who performed in the first half of the concert) and the Dice Trio (who closed the evening, after the award giving ceremony took place in the middle).

BlackBox Ensemble is a group of ten performers: soprano Amber Evans, flutist Annie Nikunen, clarinetist Tyler Neidermayer, violinists Lauren Conroy and Teagan Faran, cellist Jordan Bartow, pianist Yifei Xu, percussionist J Clancy,  double bassist Sam Zagnit, and conductor Leonard Bopp, who sometimes does double-duty as a trumpeter. They play in perfect synchrony of sound and musical intention, as if they have been working together their entire lives. They produce a fascinating palette of colors and timbres which help them create a dream-like atmosphere, particularly effective in the intimate concert space at DiMenna. 

The first piece on the program was Ursula Mamlok’s Die Laterne, in which Ms. Evans’ beautiful German diction was a pleasure to listen to, and Mr. Bopp led all performers with exceptional precision and grace. The work, though quite short, makes highly effective use of many different techniques of sound production, and my only quibble was that I would have liked to have an English translation of the text (some of the pieces on the program did have one, but not all).

Didi Gu’s Where Quiet Lives Gather is filled with whispers and squeaky sound effects, evocative of the small living creatures it depicts. With absolute clarity and a seemingly infinite array of shades, the ensemble yet again created a magical sound world brought to life with extraordinary vividness. While I enjoyed the ability to “get intimate” with this music in such a small space, I couldn’t help wondering how it must feel to listen to it on a larger stage, with more generous acoustic, where the mysterious and mystical quality of Ms. Gu’s language could have made an even greater impact.

BlackBox finished their set with Arcades by George Lewis which was – or at least seemed to be – the longest piece on their program. To my ears its structure seemed almost cacophonous, maze-like, and vertigo-inducing. Perhaps a few program notes about the work would have helped identify its meaning, or at least offer a starting point for understanding it better. I felt that – yet again – the performers did their best (Ms. Xu’s repeated notes and trills a particular standout!) but after the first two works, Mr. Lewis’ effort felt a bit like a letdown.

Much as I enjoyed the BlackBox ensemble, I can’t quite get rid of the feeling that they still represent a somewhat established version of the “classical musician,” anchored more in the past tradition than gazing forward towards innovation. They look and sound exceedingly professional and the way they approach music is with reverence and minute attention to detail – all of which is meant to be high praise! However, if we are looking to be surprised, intrigued, perhaps even a little shocked, we should direct our listening gaze towards the second group featured on this program: the Dice Trio.

Adeline DeBella (flute & others), Grace Pressley (saxophone & others) and Sam Friedman (trumpet) seem very, very young. They are dressed in (chic) street clothes, suggesting more a “Sunday-afternoon in Central Park” performance group than a “serious” classical music ensemble. Their choice of repertoire is also quite different in tone and style, the Mamlok piece notwithstanding. They seem to enjoy creating sound effects more than shaping melodies and harmonies. When I glimpsed at one of the performers’ iPad, I almost couldn’t recognize any traditional musical notation; to my “middle-aged” eyes the score looked more like an MRI than sheet music. More than once during their performance I was wondering if I were listening to music, or rather to extremely well organized noises. And yet, unsure as I might have felt about my own level of enjoyment, I can’t help but feel that, with the Dice Trio, we actually did cross into the 21st century – musically and artistically.

Meiling Wu’s Ebb and Flow sounded to me like a “Jurassic Park” soundtrack: exciting, noisy, sometimes scary, always suspenseful, and a tad too long. Mamlok’s Haiku Settings (arranged from the original soprano and alto flute version) is a group of short musical sketches which act as dialogue pieces between two or three instruments. Highly dissonant and eerily atmospheric, the set showcased Ms. DeBella’s and Ms. Pressley’s great versatility in switching between different instruments.

Luis McDougal’s I acknowledge no master is meant to be a musical commentary on some of the questions asked by philosopher Peter Abelard in his work Sic et non. I confess I failed to see how Mr. McDougal’s musical choices illustrate or offer any deeper understanding of these existential questions, in spite of the usual prowess and enthusiasm displayed by the players, who once again showed the highest level of communication and artistic communion between them. I found the composer’s language all too similar with Wu’s Ebb and Flow, and I wonder if that is a result of the writing or perhaps an interpretive choice on the part of the performers?

The last piece on the program was To Build a Fire by Sam Friedman (yes, the same Sam Friedman who is the trumpet player of the group!). House lights were dimmed, an electric light bulb was placed between the three performers who gathered and sat “around the fire,” several light strobe effects were used and a pre-recorded tape of voices and electronic sounds accompanied the experience. Mr. Friedman took a very literal approach to the title, but also a highly original one for a concert stage. Yes, it did sound more like a chilling horror movie soundtrack than a piece of music and I’m not sure I would want to listen to it again, but I certainly felt that we are exploring new territory and that the creative power of this young group of artists is intoxicating (for better or worse). 

As I was leaving the concert hall, I felt puzzled by the effect the Dice Trio had on me: on one hand, I still sense a certain predilection (not uncommon among my younger colleagues) to find exceptionally clever ways to say nothing much; I genuinely question whether anyone would like to re-visit a piece such as To Build a Fire a second or third time (perhaps listening to a recording might still prove interesting, even after several plays). And yet, how could I not give in to their youthful enthusiasm, and how can I not respect and admire their courage to depart from the established norms, and to break free from the many constraints placed for centuries on the shoulders of “classical” music?…

by Matei Varga  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Balázs Fülei, piano

Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

December 9, 2024

Before taking the stage last night in front of a packed Weill Hall, pianist Balázs Fülei was introduced – by a former college mate – as “one of the nicest people in the world.” After listening to this recital, I tend to agree with that statement, although I’m not sure that is indeed the compliment it was meant to be…

Mr. Fülei is a more than capable pianist, with an impressive resume, but to my ears he sounded a bit too “civilized.” As long as the music asked for straightforward storytelling and for conquering treacherous passages (such as in the extensive Liszt transcription in the second half of the program), this pianist provided a solid account. However, when things got rougher, musically speaking – such as in the Beethoven and Chopin pieces – Mr. Fülei was somewhat less convincing.

In a charming intro to the evening, Mr. Fülei explained that he sees this program as made of questions (the first half, which included Chopin’s Fourth Ballade and Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 23 in F Minor, Op. 57, Appassionata), followed by the voice of conviction (the second half, with works by Bartók, Liszt and Kodály). Personally, I felt that his choices were more along the lines of “homage to the Gods” (first half) and “homage to my home country” (second half). Still, if we are to play along with the pianist’s own description, I dare say that he is more apt at providing answers than asking the big questions…

Chopin’s Fourth Ballade is an over-played but elusive masterpiece; it is equal parts of ancient legend and searing drama. In a really outstanding rendition, the pianist needs to master the intricate texture (highly chromatic and often quite dense) and rise above the complexities of the score, making it sound fresh and almost improvisational. Even from the very first bars, Mr. Fülei seemed earthbound, employing a tad too much rubato and a slowish, deliberate pace which dragged things down instead of lifting them up. The main theme sounded more declamatory than intimate and flowing. He did, however, produce some very nice colors along the way. He also tended to “slap” some of the higher notes in the melody, instead of allowing them to sing. Perhaps because the beginning of the piece felt too “real,” the big climax at the end did not have the necessary impact.

Beethoven’s Appassionata is another warhorse of the piano repertoire, and one with considerable challenges even for the most accomplished performers. In the first movement, one of the most difficult tasks is to keep a relentless pulse – like a heartbeat – throughout the movement and yet make it sound completely free and organic. The three-note motif (on which the entire musical discourse is built) feels almost like a Hamletian Dilemma and it is shrouded in mystery and philosophical undertones. Here we arrive again at the point of “questions” – this being a really big one! – and I felt that Mr. Fülei only scratched the surface of what Beethoven attempted to convey. I also wished for more unity of tempo, instead of offering a slightly different pace for every new passage. The second movement was generally played too loudly, almost in a continuous mezzo-forte, in a terre-à-terre fashion not aligned with the spiritual content of the piece. The stormy finale was generally technically mastered but in my opinion lacked the cumulative effect of an impending wave which sweeps everything in its way. 

In the second half of the recital, Mr. Fülei provided more information about each piece he performed, and he did so with his usual grace and humor. He began with a set of Romanian Christmas Songs, arranged by Béla Bartók. These traditional Romanian Christmas carols, called Colinde, have an ancestral resonance to them, full of mystical touches. There is nostalgia and a feeling of loss and longing (the word “dor” – almost impossible to translate, though close in meaning to “longing” – comes to mind). Yes, there are perky rhythms, which Mr. Fülei attacked with bravura, but the melody – and there is always a melody – needs to shine through and sing (interestingly, in the Romanian language you “sing” an instrument, you don’t play it!). 

Next came the most intriguing and, for me, the best performed piece of the evening. Liszt’s Christus Oratorium (originally written for orchestra) is not a piece I am familiar with. Based on Liszt’s own piano transcription, of which we’ve heard two movements last night, I’m not sure I want to know it better. The music is repetitive, occasionally bombastic, and mostly uninspired. And yet, this is where Mr. Fülei’s gifts truly came to life: telling a story, letting the music breathe, building phrases to reach climaxes. He drew orchestral sounds from the instrument and, in spite of the lackluster quality of the music, he captured my attention for almost half an hour! He found humor in the story of the shepherds by the manger and created a dreamlike atmosphere as the three holy kings bestowed their gifts upon the newborn child. He played with commitment and made a strong case for a work which I’m not sure deserves it – but that is one of the highest achievements a performer can reach.

The last piece on the program, Kodály’s Dances  of Marosszék, was a fitting finale to the recital. This is a great work, again inspired by Romanian folk, and Mr. Fülei played it with spirit and gusto! I would have liked to feel more of a common thread running through the different sections, and perhaps the pedaling was over-generous at times, but it was a joy to listen to the imitation of several folk instruments and bask in the excitement that Balázs Fülei shared with us!

by Matei Varga  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Louis Pelosi, composer

Sharon Chang, piano; Dominika Gacka, piano; Mateusz Borowiak, piano

Merkin Hall at Kaufman Center, New York, NY

October 20, 2024

On Sunday evening, Louis Pelosi presented the world premieres of four of his piano works, with works by Chopin and Szymanowski completing the program. The audience at Merkin Hall was alarmingly sparse, in spite of the presence of three gifted musicians on stage, who performed the works of a prolific living composer. Alarming perhaps, but hardly surprising; this was only yet another proof that living composers (with a few notable exceptions) struggle to get their music performed and embraced by even the most seasoned and experienced concert goers. It came as no surprise to read – in the program notes – that Mr. Pelosi, who has earned his livelihood as a self-employed piano technician, has been self-initiating and self-funding his own showcases throughout the years. No pretense here, just a frank statement about the status quo: new music is a hard sell, and composers are lucky to find performers who are willing to invest their time and energy in bringing new pieces to life, as well as an audience who has the interest to buy tickets… I suppose Mr. Pelosi can count himself among the lucky ones, though – based on last night’s performance – with different degrees of success.

The concert was dedicated to the late Joe Patrych, a well-known and much-loved producer and recording engineer, who died suddenly at the end of 2023 and is very much missed by his (many) friends. The repertoire was exclusively for piano solo, and it was performed by Sharon Chang, Dominika Gacka and Mateusz Borowiak. Mr. Pelosi offered two sets of miniatures (twelve each), a short piano duet titled Six Tonal Studies and, as the big finale, the Piano Sonata No. 9. His music is filled with chromatic intricacies, occasionally borrowing from old techniques such as Baroque polyphony and canonic imitation, without a key signature but often revolving around a “central” key, which is usually marked in the score at the beginning of each piece (more as a stabilizing reference point than an actual tonal or harmonic adherence). The composer doesn’t shy away from contrasts, which he often employs in effective and surprising ways be it in the form of dynamics, meter, or use of registers. The texture can get busy, but there is a certain clarity of purpose which breaks through the more complicated passages. Every now and then, I detected some Eastern European influences (more than once I recalled Bartók) but perhaps some of this was reflecting my own heritage. 

In the first piece on the program, pianist Sharon Chang seemed very careful to convey every indication found in the music score. Unfortunately, she also overused the pedal, which led to some lack of clarity and a more opaque color palette than this music deserves. Some of the melodic lines got drowned and I wished for more suppleness in some of the miniatures; instead, what should have been flying high was a bit earth-bound. The music seemed to offer more opportunities for nuance than the performer conveyed. 

In a most puzzling manner, Ms. Chang followed the Pelosi piece with a rendition of Chopin’s Polonaise-Fantaisie,Op. 61. I am totally unable to decipher the reason for this pairing, other than the pianist’s love for this particular Chopin opus. (A set of Bach three-part Inventions would have been, in my opinion, a much more logical and intriguing choice; even one of Ravel’s piano suites would have provided a more fitting musical partnership.) Sadly, she seemed to fight laboriously to get to the heart of this rather elusive masterpiece, which is a truly visionary work. While she has undeniable good fingers, Ms. Chang’s body language suggested that she was overwhelmed by Chopin’s challenges rather than rising above them.

The first half of the program concluded with Mr. Pelosi’s Twelve Vignettes, which I confess was my favorite among his compositions on this program. There is a lot of charm in these short splashes of color, and occasionally a pang of depth, such as in the surprising and moving No. 5 (For Dolores), which Ms. Chang performed beautifully.

After the intermission, we were treated to an excellent performance of Szymanowski’s superb suite Three Masques, Op. 34. The pianist, Mateusz Borowiak, clearly feels at home in this powerful and intricate piece, which made for a much better program companion to the Pelosi pieces than the Chopin of the first half. Mr. Borowiak impressed me with his knife-sharp tone, well-delineated levels, and seemingly endless variety of articulation. He played with energy and bravura, maybe lacking a bit in the soft dynamics range; especially in the first movement, Schéhérazade, I felt the need for more mystique. Sometimes he rushed and sacrificed humor to authority.

After the Szymanowski, Mr. Borowiak was joined by Dominika Gacka for a four-hand duet by Mr. Pelosi – the Six Tonal Studies. This was a wonderful, organic collaboration between two gifted young artists, who both connected with the music they were performing. The compositional format of these pieces was (for each one) an intriguing aller-retour between two keys, an idea I found original and beautifully realized.

The evening came to a close with Mateusz Borowiak’s rendition of the challenging Piano Sonata No. 9 by Louis Pelosi. Again, he performed with authority and precision, though I can’t help thinking that the piece requires perhaps more reflection on the part of the performer. There are moments of truly special writing (especially in the second and the last movements) through which the pianist seemed to sail rather than enjoy. The second movement’s Lento became almost Andantino, losing some of the magic with which Mr. Pelosi imbued the score. I felt that this music needs (and deserves) a more intimate, fragile quality. In the Finale, I could have used more difference between contrasting dynamics. However, the overall effect was powerful, convincing the listener that both the performer and the composer have something meaningful and urgent to communicate. 

I walked out of the concert hall wishing that Mr. Pelosi, and other composers of his caliber, would not need to always self-initiate opportunities for their work to be noticed and admired.

by Matei Varga  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Scandinavia House, New York, NY

October 17, 2024

On the same night when many music lovers flocked to Carnegie Hall for Daniil Trifonov’s latest recital, a smaller but very enthusiastic group filled up (quite literally) the Victor Borge concert hall at the Scandinavia House, for the piano recital of Daniel Gortler. Mr. Gortler, an Israeli-American pianist with an impressive résumé, used this evening as a launching event for his latest recording – a selection of twenty-one Lyric Pieces by Edvard Grieg (of which he only performed twelve at this event). Based on what I’ve heard, I am tempted to purchase the CD and enjoy more of this pianist’s refined playing.

As we were informed in the program, the instrument on which Mr. Gortler performed belonged initially to Victor Borge, and is on loan to the Scandinavia House through the generosity of Borge’s grandson. Perhaps as a nod to the irreverent former owner, Mr. Gortler appeared wearing zipper-pocket pants and white sneakers. I’m not entirely convinced that his outfit complemented the beautifully curated program, and I feel that a fashion statement such as this  would have seemed more natural on a budding young artist, rather than a seasoned musician. 

The program included Schumann’s Kinderszenen, followed by selections from Mendelssohn’s Songs Without Words and, as the centerpiece of the evening, Grieg’s Lyric Pieces. This is what I would call a “Maestro’s program,” one which evokes the last recitals of Horowitz and Rubinstein, favoring deceivingly “easier” pieces over the big war-horses of the piano repertoire. Of course, such a selection is in fact one of the most demanding an artist can put forward, and requires a tremendous amount of depth and an almost magical ability to enthrall and hypnotize an audience. I cannot say that Daniel Gortler has reached yet that level of artistry, but throughout the evening, there were glimpses of a great talent, and of a genuine musician of the kind we sometimes label as “the real thing.”

The Schumann cycle was, in my opinion, the least successful of the evening. In a truly outstanding rendition, these pieces possess a delicate wonderment with which a young child looks at the world; somewhat paradoxically, it is usually the older and very wise performers who are able to capture such purity and simplicity. Mr. Gortler has a beautiful and warm tone, but he tends to complicate the phrasing with a (too) generous use of rubato and a dubious appetite for “discovering” new inner voices which sometimes take over the main melodic line (particularly bothersome in Blind Man’s Bluff and Pleading Child). In the first, iconic movement, Of Foreign Lands and Peoples, the accompaniment occasionally drowned the melody and the result was fussy and lacking simplicity. The bombastic arm movements made An Important Event perhaps a tad too important. Still, the pianist found beautiful colors in Dreaming and Child Falling Asleep. Some of the crescendos grew too abruptly and led to banging, such as in Knight of the Hobby-Horse. The last piece, the almost metaphysical The Poet Speaks, presented some interesting colors but failed to raise above notes, phrases, and dynamics.

With the selection of twelve Songs Without Words, Mr. Gortler seemed to warm up, both technically and musically. His wonderful articulation was evident in several of the pieces and it was clear that he connects on an emotional level with these works. In the Venetian Gondola Song he pulled us into a magical world of sound and imagery and Op. 85, No.3, was imbued with genuine urgency and a winged feeling! In the Duetto Op. 38,No.6, Mr. Gortler found just the right individuality for each partner of the conversation. With the fiery Op. 62, No.2, the pianist reached a passionate finale which, in spite of some inaccuracies, was beautifully voiced and gracefully soaring.

Although Daniel Gortler has recorded all the pieces presented on this program, at some point or another, it was clear that the Lyric Pieces by Grieg were the freshest and sharpest in his fingers. I found his interpretations refreshingly spontaneous, unaffected, and beautifully poetic. In Arietta we were treated to the touch of a true master, and the famous March of the Dwarfs revealed an intoxicating sense of humor and excellent dramaturgical sense. In the beautiful Melody Op. 47, No.3,  the pianist found some of the simplicity and magic that eluded him in the Schumann cycle. In Butterflies he created a compelling visual, basking in light and shadow. Mr. Gortler was at his very best in At the Cradle, where he found a tenderness and warmth that are seldomly heard in live performances; he worked with a wide palette of colors and conjured quite a bit of magic. I was very impressed by his sensitivity to harmonic changes, as displayed in Solitary Traveller, and – although marred by some imperfections – he truly made the Brooklet come alive in a vivid tableau. With Summer’s Eve, Mr. Gortler evoked an almost olfactory experience, reminiscent of some of Debussy’s Preludes. Puck was suitably playful, and the final piece on the program, Notturno Op. 54, No.4, was a fitting finale to an evening of sound poetry (the short Schumann encore not withstanding).

by Matei Varga  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY