Piano Cleveland presents Martín García García in Review
Martín García García, piano
Mixon First Prize Winner of the 2022 Cleveland International Piano Competition
Judy and Arthur Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
October 12, 2022
Competitions can be fraught affairs- for the entrants, jury, parents, audiences, and future audiences. Expectations are high and fear of the “wrong note” can encourage pianists to make safe choices. Happily, I can report that this seems to be changing, especially in the case of the Cleveland International (formerly Robert Casadesus) Competition and its current award winner, Martín García García.
There wasn’t a “safe” choice anywhere near his program of three gigantic showpieces (two well-known and often played, one less so) and a group of his own compositions. I so admire pianists who are also composers—let us not forget that prior to the twentieth century, most of them were—it was expected.
This is a pianist of giant technical ability (we assume that) in the service of what I call “seeking.” His immense musicality leads him constantly to search for one interpretive choice or other, and I believe that he “finds” them, to his satisfaction. Although I’ve only heard him once, I can believe that the same program played in two days’ time would have different textures and details, while remaining recognizable.
García plunged right in with an uncommonly poetic rendition of the gigantic Fantasie in C major by Schubert that has become known as the Wanderer, D. 760, after the lied Der Wanderer, D. 489, that provides its thematic motive and second section’s theme and variations. One of Schubert’s most assertive and consistently brilliant piano works, it is all the more unusual since he was not known to be a great virtuoso— Schubert himself said, “the devil may play it,” in reference to his own inability to do so properly. The work strains at the outer limits of what pianos of Schubert’s time were capable of, with symphonic textures and gossamer piano embroideries.
At times, Mr. García was so musical that I sensed him pulling back from many of the more massive moments, a pacing strategy that I can appreciate, but which made the piece seem smaller than I think it should. Some of the large chords seemed too dry. This was not a Wanderer for those who prefer a weightier, tragic statement, but it is a piece that allows for multiple interpretations, and Mr. García’s certainly had integrity. The entire Romantic age is summed up in the last line of the song’s poem, in which ghostly voices say to the tired wanderer: “Wherever you aren’t, there is happiness!”
Have you noticed a certain mania for audience participation? Choose your own ending for a Netflix series? Does anyone remember The Mystery of Edwin Drood on Broadway, in which the audience could choose the ending? I will let my readers choose their own ending to this sentence: Too often, Mr. García made articulative, textural, and phrasing choices that were 1) original, 2) eccentric, or 3) both. At any rate, I would much rather be stimulated by new music-making choices than bored to death. On a side note: Mr. García was battling two things: his tendency to hum loudly when playing the most lyrical material. I understand where this comes from, mainly a desire to overcome the decaying nature of piano sound, but (for me) it is a bad habit and ought to be overcome- all that energy should be going into the keys; and a recalcitrant piano that seemed to be going out of tune more than once during the recital, despite being adjusted during intermission.
Mr. García followed the Schubert with another giant, Chopin’s final sonata, the B minor, Op. 58. His poetic sense had free reign here, and he created in the moment with great originality. The Scherzo was taken at an unbelievably rapid, feather-light tempo, with perfect clarity. Gone are the days when the sanctimonius James Gibbons Huneker could refer to the Finale as “the parade ground of the virtuoso,” especially when Mr. García’s textural strategies and refinement are applied to it.
After intermission, it seemed as though a different pianist took the stage, different though recognizable. Mr. García began with nearly one-third of his pandemic-inspired cycle Abstractos— Abstracto XII: Silent Postlude (dedicated to Tamana Tanaka); Abstracto VII: Mal du Pays Bleu (dedicated to Margarita Anthoine); Abstracto VI: Mal du Pays Gris” (dedicated to José María García Marina); Abstracto XI: Réminiscenses d’une Berceuse (dedicated to Sujatri Reisinger), in which he sought to channel the unbearable stillness of lockdown, the surreal quality that once-thronged big cites took on, and the equally unbearable losses people were experiencing as many of their loved ones died. Naturally, as I would expect, Mr. García “spoke” this music with total authority. The pieces themselves have delightful motivic unity, and they use the piano and its colors beautifully. Wisps of Medtner and Mompou seemed to hover over them.
Mr. García closed this monumental recital with Rachmaninoff’s first essay in the piano sonata, the D minor, Op. 28, less often played than its perhaps more glamorous sibling Op. 36. However, in the D minor (once projected as a programmatic Après une lecture de Faust), we have even more of the Rachmaninoff virtues: motivic unity among all movements, the aching lyricism, the striving, the massive concerto-like textures we will hear later in his Third Concerto (also notably in Mr. García’s repertoire). In this work, Mr. García’s command of voicing was miraculous and enjoyable. The piano fairly thundered, without there ever once being an ugly tone, then melted to express the lyrical moments. The audience went justly wild.
So wild that Mr. García favored us with two encores, both Chopin waltzes, first the C-sharp minor, Op. 64 No. 2, in which the García of the first half seemed to reappear—I wish he could have avoided repeating the same agogic on the “disappearing” final run every single time it appeared. Then, he played the A-Flat major, Op. 34 No. 1: here was perfection, flair, charm, virtuosity, the second half García.
This young man already has so much, and he has time to gather his musical philosophies into a coherent whole, for it is clear he possesses them. He has numerous concerto engagements coming, the result of his various competition wins, and I hope that the touring life will be kind to him, so that he may continue seeking, finding, and sharing with us.
