Jan Lisiecki’s newest album continues his exploration on “night music”, coming right after his wonderful Nocturnes album (which i wrote about here). I watched the live album on Apple Music this morning, but the audio recordings are available on most streaming services.
Lisiecki begins with Mozart’s variations on “Ah vous dirai-je, Maman” (Oh! Shall I tell you, Mama?). It’s a French folk tale which we might better know as the source of the melodies of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. The 12 variations are roughly about a minute each; Lisiecki plays each of them with a nimble touch, and the standout for me is Var. 11, played in adagio, which is more tender and less playful than the others. It is followed immediately by Var. 12, now in allegro, which is energetic and propulsive, and the juxtaposition of the two is striking. Mozart composed this when he was around 25 years old, and it feels like an elevated exercise or a study, with hints of genius underlying the composition.
Lisiecki follows this with Nachtstüke (Night Pieces) Op. 23 by Robert Schumann. These set of 4 pieces have a more melancholic complexion to them, because Schumann wrote these pieces after receiving news that his older brother was dying. The climax of the first piece, Funeral Procession, has a striking march beat that grabs you by the throat before unexpectedly ending in a pianissimo. Lisiecki’s dynamics really shines in that passage. Taken as a whole, there is a ghostly exuberance to the pieces, which is to say Schumann alternates between a carnivalesque lilt and macabre undertones. I particularly love the haunting way the final piece ends.
Third is Ravel’s Gaspard de la Nuit, a suite of three pieces based on poems by Alyosius Bertrand. Ravel, in his distinctive Impressionist style, begins the first movement “Ondine” with a flowing, watery cascade before taking a dramatic, unsettling turn in the final bars. It is based on the poem about the water nymph Undine who seduces listeners to the bottom of the lake, and Lisiecki’s playing is enticing and alluring. The second piece, Le Gibet, is based on a poem about a hanged man on a gibbet in the middle of a desert. With such ghastly imagery, Lisiecki makes sure to vividly, but subtly, bring out that B♭ note that rings throughout the entirety of the piece, evoking the sounds of a bell. I quickly looked at that sheet music to identify how that note is placed, and it is played either singly or as part of a chord, but it is there in regular intervals, like a spectral presence following the listener across the desert. Finally, Scarbo. The most difficult of the lot. It depicts a mischievous night goblin creating nightmares for the listener. This movement is the most difficult of all the pieces Lisecki plays in the album and he succeeds in creating a nightmarish, unsettling mood. This piece is notorious for its technical challenges and to include this here really is a flex.
Finally, he ends with Miscellanea, Op. 16: IV. Nocturne in B♭ Major by modernist composer Ignacy Jan Paderewski. We go back to a more impressionistic, emotional piece that harkens back to Chopin. Paderewski, also a Polish composer and nationalist, seems to pay homage to the romantic era, and it’s not a surprise that Liesecki seems really comfortable with the music. After all, he also belongs to that line of Polish pianist comfortable in bringing out the nighttime colors of the piano.
As a whole, Liesecki remains to be an exciting pianist, a bit younger but able to hold his own against his slightly older cohorts like Yuja Wang, Vikingur Olafsson and Igor Levit. But he is on his way there. I would place him and Bruce Liu — both Canadians, in their 20s, and renowned Chopin interpreters — as the next generation stars worth listening to. In this album, he shows his sophisticated taste in curation as well as his technical skills. The live album includes additional pieces, including those of Rachmaninoff, and is well worth checking out.
Twinkle, twinkle little star!