An Energetic Old Soul
This article is from the archive of The New York Sun before the launch of its new website in 2022. The Sun has neither altered nor updated such articles but will seek to correct any errors, mis-categorizations or other problems introduced during transfer.

Beethoven could be long-winded at times but he was also aphoristic and epigrammatic. On Thursday evening at Carnegie Hall, pianist Evgeny Kissin featured pieces showing off the composer’s more succinct side — 33 of them to be exact.
Thirty-two Variations on an Original Theme is part of the glorious WoO catalogue — the initials stand for “without opus” and refer to the lack of publication identification of these works, written primarily during Beethoven’s salad days. Several seasons ago, Peter Serkin presented a piano recital of 20th-century music that also included a set of Beethoven’s Bagatelles. Some of the master’s pieces were shorter and more compact than the corresponding miniature poems of Anton Webern.
Mr. Kissin gave these little gems a crisp and painstakingly defined performance. Each iteration of the charming tune stood out because of Mr. Kissin’s lapidary technique and infectious endowment of energy. He has always been extremely well prepared for his concerts, and has been impressing with his assiduity since he was 12 years old. A prodigy no more, he has taken his place among the best recitalists touring today. His youthful appearance and big hair endear him to elderly Russian women, who alone could fill the hall. His detractors may still seize upon his age as a negative, but, after over 20 years of performances, he can no longer be labeled as inexperienced.
The first half of the program also included a relatively unknown Schubert sonata, the E Flat Major, D. 568. Mr. Kissin’s quiet conception spoke out loudly for his subtle interpretive approach. His thoughtful traversal of the Andante molto was superb. Giuseppe Verdi might have been able to write his “Otello” while still a young man, but he had to be advanced in years to compose Falstaff. The valedictory music of Brahms falls into this category of old man’s music and the great interpreters of the Six Pieces, Opus 118 — Kempff, Backhaus, Arrau — were all past 70 when they achieved their mastery of them. Younger people hardly ever even attempt these worldly-wise set pieces, and I don’t recall ever hearing these particular half dozen offered by any keyboardist younger than 60. But Mr. Kissin is an old soul — you can see it in his eyes — and his realization was quite masterful.
What made it so was his extraordinary ability to play differing rhythms at once and to alter each ever so slightly. This was not really rubato, as the hesitations or elongations lasted only seconds, but the net effect was disconcertingly thrilling. It was not a rollercoaster ride, but rather one extended heart-in-the-throat moment. Brahms fashions these pieces in a highly complex manner; some have wickedly difficult combinations of left- and right-hand passages, with one hand relatively straightforward while the other must realize hemiolas that fill in sonic gaps. Mr. Kissin adds a layer of disorientation by almost furtively introducing his minimal slowdowns.
The Intermezzo in F Minor was the headiest journey as Brahms constructs a marvelous canon on the interval of a single beat. This is dizzying enough, especially in the section marked pp e dolce sempre, but Mr. Kissin’s hesitations made the work vibrant and fruitful on an entirely new level. The pianist’s powerful intonations of the Dies Irae variations in the final A Flat Minor Intermezzo were unapologetically forceful and dramatic.
The printed program concluded with the Andante Spianato and Grande Polonaise Brillante of Chopin, a terminally boring piece of empty virtuosity that should be banned from public performance. After working so hard to establish his credentials as a scholar, Mr. Kissin, as is his wont, throws it all away with this type of treacle. The crowd loved it.
Mr. Kissin will never fully mature as a performer until he rids himself of his addiction to the confectionary pull of virtuosity. Just once, it would be advisable to fashion a program designed solely to emphasize his sizable talent for interpretive realization. Of course, this is his reviewer, not his manager, speaking.
Perhaps the hundred people who paid quite a lot of money to sit on the stage of the Isaac Stern Auditorium because the house was already totally filled might simply have stayed at home had he left the sugary treats in his pocket.