Grimaud’s Right Touch
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.

On Thursday and Saturday nights, Hélène Grimaud, the French pianist, played Ravel’s Concerto in G major with the New York Philharmonic. On Sunday night, she also played with the Philharmonic — or rather, with four members of it. She was the anchor in a sonata recital at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The program offered music of Schumann and Brahms, those storied friends.
I’ve said “sonata recital,” but the evening began with Schumann’s Three Romances, Op. 94, played by Thomas Stacy, using his oboe d’amore. (He’s known for the English horn in the Philharmonic.) Before starting in, Mr. Stacy made some remarks to the audience, and they were absolutely hilarious — puckish, deadpan, and hilarious. Mr. Stacy was better than most professional comedians. And his remarks earned a warm round of applause.
Schumann’s Romances are moody, ruminative, lovely — Schumannesque. And Mr. Stacy played them effectively. His sound was not the prettiest, and his instrument was sharper in pitch than the piano. But he was effective.
And Hélène Grimaud was very effective indeed. She phrased wisely and beautifully, and she deployed just the right touch, or touches. She knew what weights to apply to the music. And she demonstrated her wonderful fluidity, or “horizontality.” Moreover, she made that which is hard sound rather easy: She gives the impression of technical effortlessness.
In addition, she collaborated well with Mr. Stacy. For example, the second Romance had a perfect beginning: a perfectly together beginning. And, by the way, there was a kindness in this piece, which is an A-major, friendly beauty.
Next the pianist was joined by Mark Nuccio, for Brahms’s Clarinet Sonata in E flat, Op. 120, No. 2. The clarinetist’s sound was not especially rich or vibrant, but it did the job, in a clean, proficient way. Mr. Nuccio was well-nigh impeccable in his entrances and exits. And he, along with the pianist, played Brahms’s first movement with keen sensitivity.
But he also would have benefited from a greater sense of soaring romance — from some additional vocal release, if you will. The movement was more cautious than necessary. It bordered on timidity, and lacked a sweep. Another way to say this is: It was too intimate for its own good.
Ms. Grimaud again made some difficult writing look easy — transforming the unwieldy into the effortlessly manageable. To the second movement, she brought an appropriate rhapsody. As for the third and final movement, it’s a theme and variations, and Ms. Grimaud intoned the opening nobly. Later on, she exhibited some of her beautiful, nimble, cat-like playing. And Mr. Nuccio sang satisfyingly on his clarinet.
In the second half of the program, the strings had their turn, and we began with Brahms’s Cello Sonata No. 1 in E minor, Op. 38. Pairing with Ms. Grimaud was Eileen Moon, who showed many virtues. Her sound was as warm and inviting as we would want; indeed, she sounded like some top-flight German baritone. Ms. Moon played with technical correctness, and also with appreciation and affection.
To the opening movement, Ms. Grimaud contributed a wonderful Brahmsian momentum. And she played a little B-major stretch with rare, rare beauty. In this movement generally, she gave a clinic in soft playing. She can whisper, but with clarity and carrying power.
From both musicians, the second movement — Allegretto quasi Menuetto — was elfin and lovely. And the repeat had enough variation to keep things interesting. In Brahms’s Bachian last movement, Ms. Grimaud sounded like the reincarnation of Busoni, marching boldly, eagerly, commandingly, and musically.
The program closed with a Schumann piece not often heard: his Violin Sonata No. 1 in A minor, Op. 105. It is not the composer’s best work, and he wouldn’t want his reputation to rest on it — but it’s still Schumann. The violinist Sheryl Staples handled it ably — with neatness and assurance — and the middle movement was especially good: Ms. Staples sang cleanly and feelingly. So did her pianist.
Ms. Grimaud did not take a solo bow, but she deserved one. She’d had a very, very good night. This pianist in her late 30s seems to be growing in musical maturity.
And I add as a footnote that there was no Beethoven on this program — this, despite the fact that it was December 16, and the great man’s birthday. Ah, well: I suspect he’ll have other days.