Saint Thomas Church presents Ching-Yi Lin in Review
Ching-Yi Lin, piano
Works by Beethoven and Schumann
St. Thomas Church, New York, NY
October 11, 2026
One would think that a highly established worship place such as St. Thomas Church in the midst of New York’s Fifth Avenue would have its schedule much better put together than it appeared to be last Sunday. The city was already burdened by a steady rain, and those who were brave enough to show up to an afternoon recital of piano masterworks should have been treated with more consideration, rather than be left to wait outside for the Evensong to end. Instead, a very long sermon and interminable hymns pushed back the 5:15 starting time of this event by about 20 minutes, an unfortunate happening which I can only imagine that unsettled the performer as much as it confused the audience excited to listen to him.
The pianist was Ching-Yi Lin, a very accomplished young performer who opted for two massive pillars of the repertoire, Beethoven’s luminous Piano Sonata No. 28 in A major, Op. 101, and Schumann’s wildly imaginative and intricate Kreisleriana.
Dr. Lin is a very gifted musician, with a predilection for softer hues, sensitive phrasing and a more intimate (also delicate) palette. I would have loved to experience his gifts in the sparkling simplicity of a Mozart Sonata, the subtle voicing of a Chopin Nocturne and the luscious waves of sound in Debussy’s preludes, for example. Therefore, I was intrigued and eventually underwhelmed by his chosen repertoire for this evening, but since the performance was recorded with high-end equipment, I wonder if perhaps this particular program (and the subsequent recording) was needed for the artist’s ulterior projects.
Beethoven’s Op. 101 may be the more conservative of his late piano sonatas, but it hardly qualifies as a “tame” piece. Here the voice of the philosopher speaks with extraordinary clarity and eloquence, and the relatively “classical” tone is used more as a tool to cut sharper to the core, than a formal limitation. The whole piece travels on wings, and to get that high up you need tremendous strength and control. The almost Shakespearean reflectiveness of the first few bars was played with shyness instead of restraint. The dotted rhythm in the second movement had no inner drive and sounded a bit too much like a mathematical formula. Throughout the piece I felt the need for more contour of each phrase and larger lines, but perhaps the generous echo of the church did not help the pianist to shape things properly. The wistful third movement may be just one page long, but there is much more here than meets the eye. Dr. Lin’s reading reminded me more of a John Field nocturne than the soul-searching moment that Beethoven intended. In the resolute Finale, the pianist chose to soften the edges and make the contrasts milder, though he did infuse the final bars with some much-needed energy.
Schumann’s Kreisleriana is a work of contrasts and conflicting emotions. The composer himself regarded it as perhaps his favorite piano work. It is probably a piece not missing from the repertoire (and recording catalogue) of pretty much all legendary pianists. It is therefore very difficult to have something new and meaningful to say and I have always felt puzzled by the number of young artists who decide to tackle its intricacies – and no less than in big competitions, in front of highly discerning and hard to please audiences! Dr. Lin has obviously studied it attentively and perhaps for many years already (if not, he should have). The problem – at least the way I’ve heard it – was that not enough of what he produced seemed to be coming from inside himself; instead, he often seemed to pay tribute to a way of playing that has been taught to him, and to which he undoubtedly responded with utmost respect. The introduction, for example, was played at Horowitz’s speed, but without his superb articulation and inner fervor. The mood changes could have been more radical, too. In the very heartfelt second movement, Dr. Lin displayed beautiful voicing, and his playing became more evocative and poetic. Here, there was fluidity and a genuine sense of wonderment. The animated interludes were delivered with humor and sparkling clarity. Often, the tone had a lush quality and allowed the music to speak. The third movement was played too much on the surface of the keys and lacked bite and fire. The dissonances were masked rather than fully exposed and exploited. But in some of the calmer sections (such as No. 4, Lento cantabile) the beautiful singing tone and sensitive phrasing contributed to a few memorable moments, where the pianist created a spellbinding atmosphere and enraptured the audience. The last movement featured excellent finger work, and some of the crescendos did achieve the pathos and feverishness that Schumann intended. Unfortunately, the last few lines did not carry enough mystery, and the strangeness of the ending fell somewhat flat.
As I was leaving the church, I couldn’t help wishing that Dr. Lin would give us another opportunity to truly appreciate his special gifts as a musician. I would gladly go back to one of his performances (with a different program) and I trust that it is only a matter of time until we will have that opportunity. Based on the number of people who got over all the vicissitudes on Sunday night, I think he has a well-deserved group of supporters!
