Piano tigers are hardly in short supply these days at the Queen Elisabeth Competition. But where on earth are the tigresses? In any case, closer to home than you might think. Irina Lankova recorded her latest album in the Truisen Academy Hall. And from her Walloon Brabant residence, the Russian pianist switches to YouTube to provide commentary on the thirteen pieces on Elégie as an accomplished vlogger.
Lankova is no stranger to this – excusez les mots – classical soap. On the contrary. A few years before a stubborn virus locked the concert halls, she was already shining at her Steinway to shed light on the wings in the series Piano dévoilé/unveiled. Because thanks to social media, you can not only learn to play music. To better understand what lies beyond the notes, a worldwide community of vloggers also steps in. But where are the Belgians, De Standaard asked itself in early March. Well, because Lankova stayed in Walloon Brabant after her studies in Moscow and Brussels, our country gets reinforcement from 'Mother Russia'. And it's catching on, as evidenced by the nearly 9,000 listeners and viewers subscribed to her official YouTube channel. In the niche that classical music occupies on this universal online platform, that is considerable success. Successive lockdowns meant that another multimedia project around the Goldberg Variations can so far only be discovered on cd and the web. The premiere of Goldberg Visions is now scheduled for 17 September during the sixth edition of the Max Festival in Beauvechain, where Lankova serves as artistic director at the keyboard. A hopeful and realistic prospect for the public of real encounters, after the cultural devastation wrought by the pandemic!
Highly personal elegy
"I am convinced that distinction lies in uniqueness", so it rang out last summer decisively from the mouth of Astrid Stockman. Moreover, the Ronse soprano added further in the valuable and slightly exuberant interview in Knack: "An artist who reveals nothing is not interesting." Revealing herself is what Irina Lankova does with her latest cd anyway. "J'ai conçu cet album comme un voyage émotionnel. Chacune des plages s'est alors imposée comme une évidence, en écho à un moment capital de ma vie", we read at the beginning in the accompanying booklet – actually a folder. A highly personal life's work, then, this recording in the equally unique Academy Hall of Sint-Truiden. Yet those personal notes do not necessarily result in an original programme. Just listen to the course of the six finalists of the Elisabeth Competition: Rachmaninov, of course, but also Schubert and the most famous member of the Bach family graced their recitals. These composers are embedded in the repertoire of every pianist like daily bread. An affinity that in Lankova is all the more pronounced, and even reveals a clear preference, as becomes clear after scrolling through her discography. It is also worth noting that seven of the thirteen pieces on this "emotional journey" have been arranged by other composers: from the immensely popular Vocalise from Rachmaninov's opus 34, to arrangements by Liszt of two beloved Schubert songs (Ständchen and Auf dem Wasser zu singen) to the prelude of Johann Sebastian Bach on the chorale Ich ruf zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ in a transcription by Ferruccio Busoni (1866-1924). You read it, these are long no longer hidden gems, let alone world premieres. And precisely because of that, Zdes horosho (All is well here) stands out, as this romance by Rachmaninov (opus 21, no. 7) was arranged by the Russian pianist herself. But of course, more is needed than a single sober little jewel for a programme to make an impression. Could the interpretations give this disc its own character?
The first piece on the cd – and also the title track – immediately sets the tone in that respect. From the very opening of Rachmaninov's Elégie (opus 3, no. 1), it becomes clear that Lankova opts for a remarkably solemn, highly distinguished approach. Virtually every note, not least the underlying recurring bass, is given a certain weight, though without her playing becoming heavy-handed. It is a delicate balance that the pianist manages to maintain well. This restrained approach also affects the tempo, which for a Moderato is rather on the slow side.
And actually also connects with how Lankova experienced this music in her own writing as a child: "elle mouvrait les portes d'un autre monde, plus intense et plus libre, qui correspondait à ce que je sentais intuitivement en moi." Yet she does not succeed in making that intuitively felt freedom sound. As if the adult pianist consciously chooses not to give in to youthful sentimentality. In the other elegy on her cd as well, published some years later as part of a collection of so-called Moments musicaux (1896), stately seriousness prevails. But in this case the interpretation certainly benefits from it. The Andante cantabile, which halfway through receives accompaniment from a dark funeral march in the left hand, symbolizes for Lankova the emotional heart of the album, and is performed with great aplomb and empathy. "Quand je réécoute l'ensemble, je me rends compte que certains morceaux ont déteint sur d'autres", she testified last month to business newspaper L'Echo. And indeed this sadness casts its shadow: áll the Rachmaninov pieces recorded here are in minor key. This applies for example to the three Etudes-Tableaux (opus 33, nos. 3 and 6, opus 39, no. 8) and the Prélude (opus 32, no. 12), though these hurt primarily because they test the performer's technical prowess considerably. Although, Lankova shakes each of these finger exercises nimbly from her fingers. But despite the refined articulation, the short tableaux speak less directly musically. Then the famous Vocalise, here in a transcription by Hungarian pianist Zoltán Kocsis (1952-2016), tells a more gripping story, which is also phrased thoughtfully and lightly. The finale is Rachmaninov's flamboyant take on the melancholic Liebesleid for violin and piano by generational and fellow performer Fritz Kreisler (1875-1962). Did he want to ease his colleague's suffering with this compositional playfulness? The judgment is yours.Double one-two steps
Did Franz Liszt (1811-1886) have no playmates, or sentimental girlfriends, one casually wonders while listening to his solo piano arrangements of Ständchen (D957/4) and Auf dem Wasser zu singen (D774). With his large hands he in any case had more than enough to merrily dialogue with himself. And so it came to pass. He introduced a canon in the second-to-last two couplets of Ludwig Rellstab's plea, and let himself be inspired by the "spiegelnden Wellen" of Count Friedrich Leopold zu Stolberg-Stolberg to an agitated question-and-answer play: like the ebb and flow originally sung about. What would Schubert himself have thought of this tribute? Perhaps Lankova could have shown him the merits of these arrangements, for her expressive playing, the pearlescent way she engages in conversation with herself and the dynamic buildup of Auf dem Wasser zu singen are absolutely brilliant. In Ständchen the approach is less adventurous: a measured parlando dominates; subtle, without really sticking. The restrained result would ultimately have fitted better with the double German-Italian one-two step with which the cd concludes. Because serenity and detachment hold sway in these final pieces. Whether it is Bach's choral song transcribed by Busoni (BWV 639), or Johann Sebastian himself remixing the Adagio from Alessandro Marcello's oboe concerto (BWV 974), the outcome is the same both times: 'soundfulness' of the highest order. Bach's worthy sternness and Lankova's straightforward, unadorned and above all integral style fit each other wonderfully.
As you will note in the first video below, this production also has a remarkable visual aspect. Thus the late Peter Lindbergh (1944-2019), in addition to being an iconic fashion photographer also a "kindred spirit" of Lankova, provided not only the characteristic black-and-white portraits of the pianist, but also the cinematic grayscale tones for the opening track of the cd. Because the eye wants something too, naturally. And so our artist is presented not only as a musician but also as a graceful model on stage. A somewhat unfortunate framing, precisely because her sincere interpretations convey anything but a posed impression. Moreover, we hear the real keyboard tigress on Elégie only sporadically at work. Therefore we prefer to view this clip as a touching tribute to a deceased friend. Scarcely more fitting music could have been imagined for it, though surprisingly the album is not dedicated to anyone by name.
- WHO: Irina Lankova (piano, Steinway & Sons D612075)
- WHAT: Elégie, with (transcriptions of) music by Sergei Rachmaninov (1873-1943), Franz Schubert (1797-1828) and Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750)
- RELEASE: self-released, Irina Lankova (IL3107)
- PHOTOS: © Peter Lindbergh
- LINK to Irina Lankova's YouTube channel