Misha Dichter, piano, joined by Cipa Dichter in duos
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
February 21, 2018
Legendary pianist Misha Dichter is the next musician recognized by Terry Eder’s unique series Key Pianists, whose mission is to recognize musicians who aren’t necessarily before the public eye right now, or whose commitment to a certain repertoire might marginalize them in the cutthroat commercial concert world.
Mr. Dichter hasn’t played a major solo recital in New York since 1999, having suffered a disability of the worst kind that threatens the pianist’s primary tool: the hand. I won’t enumerate here, but he underwent successful surgery and rehab. Thank goodness for that. He has made enormous contributions in both live and recorded performance, and his commitment to duo-piano playing (at one and two keyboards) with his wife has always been in the forefront, unusual for most virtuosi.
I truly believe that one must exercise respect when speaking of legendary established artists, after all a reputation isn’t going to be made or unmade by my comments. The evening, while successful and often beautiful, was complex for me, something I will try to make clear in the ensuing comments. Two of Schubert’s massive late works bookended Copland and Scriabin, strange bedfellows but good contrast.
The entire first half of the recital was devoted to Mr. Dichter’s partnership with his wife of fifty years, Cipa Dichter (How is this possible?? Neither one of them even looks fifty!). They opened with the lyrical and ever-so-tragic Fantasy in F minor, D. 940. The normally excellent program notes by Paul Griffiths were a bit off-base on this occasion. He missed the point that the work is dedicated to one of Schubert’s piano students, and (as usual) an unrequited crush of his: Caroline von Esterházy, though anything between them would have been impossible due to the class difference. Mr. Griffiths also called the third section a “waltz” which it is most definitely not (just because it’s in 3/4 time doesn’t make it a waltz).
The clever G-flat which is introduced into the opening melody in measure twenty (enharmonically F-sharp) sets up the key relations of the two inner sections, so we have F minor-F-sharp minor-F sharp minor-sinking back down to F minor. Schubert has been so often patronized as a composer that most people don’t realize how much motivic continuity he loaded his mature works with, enabling him to create vast structures that hold together.
The Dichters gave a very well-coordinated, unsentimental reading of the Fantasy, with Cipa playing primo. She certainly could not have wanted for a more considerate partner in her husband, whose balances were preternaturally sensitive. I wished for more lingering over certain moments, especially fermatas, which were minimized. There was also a lack of “big” dynamic contrasts: the pp and ff in the central section of the third “movement” and elsewhere often sounded the same. This led to a reduction in the mystery and fatality of the piece, which for me is central. One should feel emotionally devastated after a rendition of this work.
They followed with an appropriately raucous, perhaps even reckless, joyously rhythmic performance of Bernstein’s transcription for two pianos of Aaron Copland’s El Salón México, named for a nightclub but based on assiduously collected material. The Dichters’ flair for dialogue between the two instruments was in full display, aided by the clever and faithful arrangement.
After intermission, Misha took the stage for his solo portion of the program, opening with two of Scriabin’s more lyrical etudes, one each from Op. 42 and Op.8. These were delivered with melting clarity and the sort of restraint that purged them of the sometimes overheated “purple” quality with which many artists often fill them. It was refreshing indeed.
Mr. Dichter’s major offering of the evening was the middle of the last three sonatas of Schubert, the A major, D. 959. There is nothing “enigmatic” about either the tonality or the half-step, which figures large in this work—revealed in every possible light, it gives Schubert maximum mobility to explore remote key areas, as Alfred Brendel said, “with the assurance of the sleepwalker.”
Mr. Dichter is a “big view” pianist, who I feel sometimes lets his virtuosity run away with him when more contemplation would be nice. On this occasion, just when I was starting to get antsy, he would then do something so angelic that it brought tears to my eyes. For example, the return of the lonely wanderer theme in the second movement, after the “breakdown” section (which, Mr. Griffiths, is not a cadenza!), was heart-stopping. He also handled the multiple remote-key visionary “farewells” in the Rondo finale beautifully. Elsewhere, tempi were pushed, which led to some inaccuracy, dynamic contrasts weren’t maximized (as in the Fantasy above), and a sense of discovery was lacking. The fact that all the movements were played attacca didn’t help, one scarcely had time to consider what had preceded. Don’t get me wrong, this is a valid interpretation, it might not be to everyone’s liking, but the audience went wild.
Mr. Dichter then offered two encores: the Berlioz/Liszt Rákóczi Marsch (from La Damnation de Faust, borrowed by Berlioz from a Gypsy fiddler). This was a white-hot romp through one of Mr. Dichter’s specialties, Liszt. He roared and glittered as I imagine the piano lions of old did, and people respond to speed and volume.
This was followed by Schumann’s Romanze Op. 28, No. 2, in F-sharp major, which again was very unsentimental, even hurried. I feel he missed the opportunity to vary the voicing in the repeat of the first section (it is a love duet, after all), unusual in a student of Rosina Lhevinne. No matter, Mr. Dichter proved that he still owns the keyboard, and I wish him many more years of fruitful artistry.
