Pianist Thomas Nickell in Review
Thomas Nickell, pianist
Tenri Cultural Institute, New York, NY
March 14, 2025
A capacity crowd gathered to hear composer and pianist Thomas Nickell at the Tenri Cultural Institute this week and enjoyed an evening of the music of Frédéric Chopin that in some ways hearkened back to salon recitals of yore – from the intimacy of the venue (and free-flowing wine) to the family friendliness of the audience. The program included several of Chopin’s most beloved masterpieces, plus some shorter selections. Starting with the Fantasy Op. 49, Mr. Nickell followed with the last six preludes from Op. 28, and then the Berceuse, Op. 57, and the Barcarolle, Op. 60, before intermission. The second half opened with the Four Mazurkas, Op. 24, followed by the first three Scherzi. It was curated nicely for dramatic trajectories and contrasts, taking the audience on a journey that was never dull.
A reviewer hears many highly polished conservatory players who quite often resemble so many cookies from the same batch. There may not be much of a sense of programming sometimes (or awareness of the audience’s “journey”) – and not always a great sense of individual spirit either – but the elements of the score, certainly the notes, tend to all be there from hours of thorough practice. This concert was almost the reverse. There was indeed spirit in each moment – and ideas galore – but sometimes there was just a bit too much “riding roughshod” over the music for a true devotee of Chopin to enjoy. To restate a criticism made in another review from 2023, Mr. Nickell left “a few too many details obscured or glossed over … and one hesitates even to use such a potentially dismissive term as ‘detail’ in discussing the finely wrought creations of Chopin.” It is easy to chalk up a “big picture” tendency to the fact that a performer is also a composer, but more on that later.
The Fantaisie in F minor, Op. 49, was one of the strongest offerings, though there was some sketchiness in the fingerwork surprisingly early on and a few rhythmic anomalies in the B-major section (no, not rubato – as one can tell the difference). What was great was the emotional narrative of the piece – always strongly projected. Mr. Nickell transmitted to the audience what must be his own love of the work, and he did it with warmth of tone and a personal feeling for highlights – as a tour guide might take a visitor to his favorite spots. It underscored for this reviewer how much Mr. Nickell has grown as a pianist and musician in recent years.
The six selections from Op. 28 were less compelling. Prelude No. 19 in E-flat major, understandably a difficult one, needed more accuracy, delicacy, and attention to polish. No. 21 in B-flat major found the left hand obscuring the right. No. 22 in G minor got swept away with emotion – not a bad thing in itself, but it resulted in some mishaps, notably the crucial low C-sharp octave near the end. No. 24 in D minor was quite dramatic – as it needs to be – but needed more attention to the descending thirds. Pianists routinely impale themselves on these, but this reviewer believes that such hurdles can be overcome with lots of careful work, if the piece as a whole means enough to the player. The final three notes were earthshaking – as they should be.
It was particularly beautiful to hear, after such storming, the Berceuse (Lullaby), Op. 57. When this reviewer mentioned earlier the care taken in curating a program, this choice was one of the examples. The juxtaposition was potent. There are always quibbles, however, and there were some here. As anyone who has played this work knows, the left hand repeats its steady rocking pattern nearly exactly throughout the piece, but with sometimes an E-flat and sometimes a C on the fourth eighth of each measure – and it actually matters, because of what is in the right hand. Without the correct notes, doubled C’s or E-flats arise, among other issues. Cringes ensue, the baby awakens, and war breaks out. Well, perhaps that is an exaggeration, but the point stands. If it is worth playing at all, it is worth fine-tuning – and that includes mastery of the later filigree as well, which needed neatening (perhaps with more hand-rotation). Great pianists have famously agonized over accuracy in recording this work – long before the days of splicing and high-tech fixes – and though a live performance is not the same as a recording, it should matter no less.
The Barcarolle closed the first half with another strong performance. It’s magnificence was in full sail, and undoubtedly those in the audience who may never have heard the piece before will now feel the pull towards more Chopin. They gave a rousing ovation before the break. Bravo!
After intermission we heard the Four Mazurkas, Op. 24. Considering how many mazurkas Chopin composed, it is a shame that we don’t hear them in live programs more often, so it was a joy that Mr. Nickell programmed these. He brought out much of the originality and “newness” of them, whether through the crispness of the Lydian-flavored No. 2, the chromaticism of No. 3 (which, with overholding of thirty-second notes, sounded like blocked sevenths), and the robust rhythms and metric surprises in all four. They were a joy.
Some of Mr. Nickell’s liberties seemed gratuitous even in these dances (such as the turning of some quarter-note upbeats into eighths at will in No. 3), and though we are no longer in this reviewer’s dinosaur-age school days where such playing would have elicited screeds (“if Chopin had wanted a quarter note, he knew how to write one”), the score is always the starting point. We often hear about the spirit of the law in opposition to the letter of the law in music – but why not have both?
The program concluded with much fire via the first three of the Scherzi, but again sometimes speed took the place of what constitutes true brilliance (generally including the presence of all notes, articulations, and markings, regardless of speed). No. 1 in B minor found excessive haste leading to blurs, omissions, and messiness, including in the big chromatic run at the end, and there were similar results in Nos. 2 and 3. Though there was a certain excitement always, the music devolved at times into mere washes and gestures. Let there be no mistake, we need those gestures, but if everything becomes a glossing-over or gesture, the performance starts to sound like a summary, as if the performer is showing us something approximating “how it would go” if we played it. Listeners may get “the gist” of it, but we generally want more than the gist at a concert. A lecture-demonstration may be different, and one has a hunch that Mr. Nickell may have some of those in his future.
As your reviewer here has written before, Mr. Nickell is a promising young composer as well as pianist. This warrants mention, in reference to a point made earlier. Composers are often cited for performing with less than full attention to detail, perhaps due to their own imaginations’ tendency to grasp what they consider the essence of a piece immediately (and likewise, their desire to transmit it immediately). There also may be issues of time demands, as a composer needing to copy fifteen-part scores may simply not have time to practice scales and passagework. In any case, when we consider what effort Chopin took to write each note and marking (naturally long before the advent of music software), with dozens of carefully chosen pitches and note values constituting each “wash” or gesture, and all organically part of the whole work, we generally feel an awe that compels us to devote no less effort in relaying it – as servants in a way. One would imagine that a composer, perhaps even more than other musicians, might agree out of sheer compassion.
At any rate, when some time is invested in more of the nuts and bolts, there will be yet another reason to hear Mr. Nickell. There are already many.
