1 9 2 Y R E C O R D I N G S I N R E V I E W J A Y N O R D L I N G E R At any moment, there is a crop of young pianists, eager to show what they have. And as we get older, I think, our concept of ‘‘young’’ slides upward. Yuja Wang was born in 1987 and is therefore still in the under-thirty category. She has recorded the Ravel piano concertos with the Tonhalle Orchestra of Zurich, led by its chief conductor, Lionel Bringuier (Deutsche Grammophon B0023931-02). Bringuier is a touch older than Wang, born in 1986. I first reviewed him in 2007, when he was twenty. I wrote, ‘‘It’s always risky to say that someone, in any field, is can’t-miss, but it’s not so risky in this case.’’ It was not. The two Ravel piano concertos are the one in G major, for your standard two hands, and the one in D major, for the left hand alone. They are obviously a familiar pairing. But on LPs and CDs, they have often needed a filler, usually an additional French piece. When Alicia de Larrocha recorded the concertos in the mid-1970s, she added Fauré’s Fantasy in G for piano and orchestra. Wang, too, adds Fauré, but not the Fantasy and not a piano and orchestra piece at all: she plays the Ballade in F-sharp major. It so happens that Fauré made a piano and orchestra version of this piece, but Wang elects to go solo. 1 9 3 R Leaving Fauré aside for a moment, Wang is virtually made for Ravel. Among her qualities are nimbleness, clarity, agility, and color. Much of what she plays sounds like Ravel, or Debussy, even when it shouldn’t: the Liszt Sonata, for example. She seldom makes a fat, lush sound, going deep into the keys. But that is seldom called for in Ravel or Debussy. On her new CD, she begins with the G-major concerto, to which she imparts a nice sense of jazz. This reminds me that she is quite good in the big Gershwin pieces: Rhapsody in Blue and the Concerto in F. In Ravel’s middle movement, she is wisely matter-of-fact, or straightforward. And from both her and the orchestra, the music builds beautifully and excitingly. This movement ends with a famous long trill. I like it slower and sultrier than Wang plays it, but she is entitled to her choice. And the last movement, a kind of toccata, Wang hammers elegantly, just as Ravel wants. Again, she is virtually made for this music. She next turns to the Fauré Ballade, which she plays competently , needless to say. But one can imagine more seamlessness or fluidity in it. At the same time, the piece expresses its uncomplicated charm. Wang ends her CD with the left-hand concerto, in which she is superb. Bringuier and the Tonhalle Orchestra do their part, too. The concerto has what it needs, including beauty, bite, sensuality, glitter, blues, a sense of architecture – and, from the soloist, staggering virtuosity. By the way, I had a thought when I was a kid: Do pianists cheat when they record the left-hand concerto in a studio? That is, do they bring the right hand in, when two hands would be an advantage? Who would know? The conductor , orchestra, and engineers would, so I imagine the pianist’s pride and vanity would prevent cheating. In any field, there are people who are special targets of envy and resentment. Yuja Wang is one such target, and we might guess at the reasons: she is young and indecently talented; she enjoys tremendous PR and fame; and on the stage she tends to dress as skimpily as possible. Her latest CD cover is comparatively tame, but it does allow for bare arms and midri√. Lang Lang is a target of envy and resentment too. This pianist, like Yuja Wang, was born in China, though five years earlier: in 1982. He too is young, indecently talented, and famous, and though he does not dress provocatively, he has...
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