Oh, Lortie

Louis Lortie, piano, Jan. 16, Pennsylvania Convention Center Auditorium.

The Chopin Etudes are an Everest of the solo piano repertoire. Chopin wrote the 24 "studies" as a musical encyclopedia of technical challenges, including playing rapidly and quietly at once, loud descending octave chords, complex polyrhythmic passage work, rapid syncopation and on and on. On the rare occasion that a pianist dares to present this grand tangle of notes to a discerning audience in its entirety, it should be assumed that the technical hurdles will be surpassed. Then it only remains for the piano to make music.

Louis Lortie, a Montreal-born and -trained pianist, handily made beautiful music with the Etudes. From the vaulting arpeggios of the opening C Major Etude, Lortie’s playing exhibited a clearly delineated melody line, as if a bright, operatic aria was being sung, surrounded by the filigree of a pianistic orchestra. Many pianists are guilty of banging out the vehement moments in the Etudes, such as in the Op. 10 No. 12 ("Revolutionary") and the Op. 25 No. 12, but Chopin only asks for "forte" in the score, that is, merely loud, as opposed to very loud (fortissimo) or very, very loud (fortississimo). Lortie scrupulously obeys the composer’s markings, in general stressing an elegance and beauty of tone over flair and excitement.

But although Chopin only requires forte dynamics in the "Revolutionary," he does ask for the entire piece to be played "Allegro con fuoco," fast, lively, and with force, and Lortie was too restrained, too unwilling to risk a rough sound to achieve the essential energy of this extraordinary music.

What was not clear was to what extent an incredible incident this evening affected Lortie’s performance. Just a few measures into his recital, a cellular phone went off loudly. It was bad enough that some idiot carried an activated phone into the concert hall, and unforgivable that the phone was not silenced after the first ring. Lortie angrily leapt to his feet until it stopped, then started over, but with diminished spirit.

Lortie’s playing after the intermission, starting with the lovely "Trois nouvelles Etudes" and continuing on with the magnificent Opus 25, might as well have been by a different pianist. Elegant as ever, now Lortie’s manner seemed far more imaginative, more boldly colored, and rhythmically freer. He was, in short, having more fun with the music and conveyed his joy to the audience. Lortie’s renewed composure was so pronounced that I doubt anyone would mind if the audience is frisked for beepers and cell phones at future concerts.

—Peter Burwasser