Barry Alexander and Cosmo Buono, in association with Alexander & Buono International

Thomas Nickell, piano

SubCulture, New York, NY

November 15, 2018

Acclaimed twenty-year old pianist/composer Thomas Nickell programmed an intriguing recital at SubCulture on Thursday night. An ill-timed winter storm didn’t deter his ardent followers. I had high hopes for the theme “Impromptus and Meditations,” some of which were fulfilled quite nicely; elsewhere I shall try to explain my impressions.

Mr. Nickell began with early Scriabin (Five Preludes, Op. 16), the composer still in his “Chopin” phase, but already one displaying the increased fluidity, stretchiness, and longing for mystical union that will be taken to extremes in his later works. Mr. Nickell was perfectly aligned with the material, his delicacy was most welcome, and the subtle poetry of each miniature was allowed to speak for itself.

After this, the Four Impromptus of Schubert ,commonly known as “Op. 90,” actually (Deutsch) 899, were played. Although I expect some impetuousness from a twenty-year-old, I really felt that the combination of songfulness and spiritual gravitas encased in each one was somewhat lacking. I definitely heard Mr. Nickell’s intense commitment to the music, but a deeper degree of profundity makes for a truly memorable rendition. Another factor in my opinion was that they weren’t entirely reliable technically. Liberties were taken with phrasing, articulation, and ritards (e.g.: measure 85 in the second Impromptu is marked legato in the right hand, yet he chopped each note). I must part company with Mr. Nickell, who says you can hear how “improvisatory” they are, from the title on down. He has fallen for an old misconception: Ever since Schubert, if we examine the great Impromptu composers (Chopin, Fauré to name but two), we see easily that these are some of the most tightly controlled works, leaving nothing to chance. I sincerely hope Mr. Nickell will continue to explore these works, leading him into a “listening stillness” so that his performance of these touchstones will grow.

Turning now to Messiaen, a piano transcription by Mr. Nickell of one of his works, Oraison (Prayer), for the electronic instrument known as the Ondes Martenot, was, for me, another surprising success of this evening. I worried that the sustaining powers of the original instrument would not happen at the piano (Messiaen later reworked this piece a few years later as the cello/piano Louange à l’éternité de Jésus in his Quatuor pour la fin du temps). Mr. Nickell used his composer’s perspective to delve deeply into the material and really do it justice. Well done!

He then treated us to two of his own Impromptus, which showed off his many strengths with a lot of flash, some bluster, but intricate textures and definitely worthwhile. I’ll bet they would be hell for any other pianist to learn.

The concert closed with Liszt’s Vallée d’Obermann, extracted from Années de pèlerinage, I: Suisse. The hero of Sénancourt’s archetypal Romantic novel is disillusioned with life and questions himself: “Que veux-je? Que suis-je?” (What do I want? Who am I?) The three syllables of each phrase are turned by Liszt into the unifying motive of the piece, three descending tones, a minor third that is later transfigured into a major third. Everyone traveling through the Alps in the early nineteenth century had such responses of ineffable wonder, each in his/her own way. Recall how difficult such travel must have been, with balky horses, coaches with rough wheels, rutted paths or none at all, and severe weather that could spring out of nowhere. In Liszt’s more extrovert sections you really can “hear the weather.” But as with all good program music, as Liszt himself said, he sought to portray interior states of mind, rather than depict actual scenes. Here, Mr. Nickell’s penchant for exaggeration did get the best of him, causing this listener to lose the metaphysical aspect of the piece amid the rambunctious sections. The work needs to progress from spiritual dejection to triumph without sounding hectic. Again, his technique needs to be honed, though I am forgiving when I hear momentary lapses in the pursuit of something greater. Mr. Nickell obviously identifies with the material greatly, and portions of it were quite thoughtful; it just needs some time to mature, to integrate all the aspects of this epic into one organic whole.

Don’t get me wrong: this is a big, big talent. I so admire his intellectual curiosity and his innovative programming.

Thomas Nickell, piano; The Oistrakh Symphony of Chicago, Mina Zikri, Conductor

Jeff Glor, Anchor, CBS Evening News, Honorary Chair and Host

Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

June 3, 2018

This past Sunday at Carnegie Hall brought some concert “firsts” for this reviewer (not counting the challenges of parades, protests, and resultant chaos throughout Manhattan, unfortunately not firsts).

It was this listener’s first time hearing a touring orchestra from Chicago that was not the Chicago Symphony Orchestra but rather the Oistrakh Symphony of Chicago, named, one assumes, after the great violinist David Oistrakh, an auspicious homage indeed. Under the leadership of excellent conductor Mina Zikri, this orchestra (founded in 2005 of largely young professionals) proved itself to be a commendable ensemble – undoubtedly a welcome addition to the “Windy City” and beyond.

It was also this listener’s first time hearing promising young pianist and composer, Thomas Nickell, age nineteen, in a program that included, among other works, Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 2, Op. 19, and Totentanz of Franz Liszt, both works that often get overlooked in favor of their more popular relatives (Beethoven’s Concertos 1,3, 4, and 5, and Liszt’s Concertos 1 and 2). It was a pleasure to see the two being programmed, and it was a pleasure to discover a young musician who is set apart in many ways from his peers.

The concert opened, rather unusually, with just the first movement, the Allegro con brio, of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 3 (the “Eroica”). It was odd to hear this portion of a masterpiece almost relegated to the role of an overture, but in terms of playing, aside from the need for more power in the lower strings, what one heard was excellent, played with regal spirit. Beethoven devotees may be disappointed by such excerpting, this listener included, but there seemed to be other priorities for the concert, particularly the featuring of Mr. Nickell, who followed with Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 2.

Mr. Nickell, who has concertized actively for several years, is currently studying at the Mannes College of Music where he is a double major in piano and composition. He has many admirable qualities as a performer, including an engaging and professional stage presence, overall technical mastery, the ability to respond with individuality to a musical score, and the ability to express that response with conviction. These are no small advantages.

Mr. Nickell also possesses a quality one finds endemic to composer-pianists, namely a pronounced tendency to favor the “big picture” over local detail – an asset and a potential liability all at once. He clearly grasps the overall architecture of what he plays, with none of the myopia of the mere technician, thankfully, but with such an aerial view that some finer elements are occasionally obscured. In his Beethoven, there were harmonies warranting extra intensity that were glossed over, thus losing expressiveness, as well as melodic phrases that needed more time for details to be articulated and to project the music’s full spirit and character. Perhaps the excitement of the occasion led to these issues, or perhaps they were viewed as pesky “details” – though one uses quotation marks, because the “details” in great music can be so important. In any case a slightly slower tempo in the first movement might have benefited the interpretation while probably enhancing the clarity in some of the left-hand passagework as well.

The above is not to say that Mr. Nickell lacks technical facility – he does not, and at times he displayed the light and fleet finger-work that reminded one of some of Glenn Gould’s recordings – but it struck this listener that Mr. Nickel, as a composer, may be so immersed in his own musical sound world that it may be hard to commit himself fully to the world of another composer, including historical milieu, philosophy, style, and notation (including the dynamics, which tended to need more attention in this performance). This speculation seemed supported by Mr. Nickell’s cadenza, which did not emerge as enhancing Beethoven’s concerto in this listener’s opinion. Though a cadenza’s traditional role does involve spotlighting the soloist, it should also serve the body of the work and not dissipate or dilute the momentum and tension of the movement, as it seemed to here.

Elsewhere, where Mr. Nickell took time, he was well rewarded. A highlight of his Beethoven, and perhaps the entire concert, was the hallowed Adagio movement. Mr. Nickell is unafraid of extremes of softness and slowness, and he savors the heart-stopping lulls more than many players. Thus, where Beethoven marked con gran espressione, Mr. Nickell maximized the moment, creating such a spell of quietude that one found oneself glowering at a neighboring audience member for breathing too loudly. The Rondo movement closed with plenty of sparkle, so much so that one wondered whether there had simply been a need to warm up during the first movement.

After intermission, the program became a virtual mini-recital for the pianist alone, without orchestra. Orchestra members (alas – having traveled a significant distance to play!) simply waited offstage, while Mr. Nickell played an eclectic variety of works. Again, the raison d’être for the program seems to have been to showcase Mr. Nickel. We heard him in works by Henry Cowell, Frédéric Chopin, and also by Thomas Nickell himself (with Philip Glass Etude No. 2 on the printed program but canceled). All of that came before the orchestra rejoined him for Totentanz, making for quite a demanding afternoon.

Two of Cowell’s best-known works opened the second half, The Tides of Manaunaun, with its growling bass forearm clusters, and Aeolian Harp, with its ethereal harmonies and glissandi on the strings inside the piano. It will be interesting to see whether Mr. Nickell will choose a niche (not that one must necessarily choose), but this listener’s guess is that he will fare the best with repertoire of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. He played the Cowell pair sensitively and with dedication, without pause. He then launched into Chopin’s Polonaise in F-sharp minor, Op. 44, arguably one of Chopin’s more difficult works interpretively. Again, one heard artistry with a broad brushstroke and some ensuing messiness, but the most that one really wants to suggest to such a maverick is slowing down to smell some of the roses (and not just in the slow movements as many extremists do).

Mr. Nickell’s own composition, Innisfree, followed. A piano transcription of a song he composed, it revealed the influence of Cowell and possibly Crumb in its extended techniques, all while expressing a mood of meditation and mystery that seems to reflect the beginnings of his own individual style. One eagerly awaits hearing his future compositions.

Totentanz concluded the concert with an ease that belied its difficulty. Effective emphasis of rests and pauses maximized the ponderous qualities, but there was room for more biting pianistic brilliance. One wants to be spellbound by this piece, but the drama wasn’t quite full force. What was missing was a sense of the terror of the Dies Irae (or “Day of Wrath” in Latin – oddly misspelled in the program notes as “Das Irie”).

Will there be time for this pianist to practice sufficiently to make such Romantic virtuoso works truly scorching, while also inhabiting Beethoven’s world, devouring Cowell and Glass, and creating his own music? Time will tell, but in this year of remembering Leonard Bernstein, the quintessential multitasker, one should rule out nothing.

There are also many years ahead to fine-tune Mr. Nickell’s considerable gifts. Though there is no mention in his biography of his teachers at Mannes (an unusual thing, given his age), it is possible, in this current burst of career activity, that Mr. Nickell’s presenters consider that he has transcended such student matters. Hopefully such is not the case, as there is a lifetime of learning involved in maturing as a musician. Just as a single musical work can benefit from a slow burn, so can a musician’s evolution.

Among many elements in his favor, Mr. Nickell has a remarkably strong support base, and it includes prominently Barry Alexander (of the presenting Alexander and Buono Foundation), who gave the elegant spoken introductions. Mr. Nickell also had many fans in his audience, and they applauded him heartily, bringing him back to the stage for repeated bows. One looks forward to following the further development of this young artist.