A concert day is not a day like any other, but it is the same routine that invariably sets in motion to culminate in the final concentration necessary for the evening’s performance. Pianist Ivo Pogorelich is no exception to the rule, despite his status as a piano legend. He prepares, he says, like a tennis player: “I get up, I shower, I shave, I go to the studio, I work out, then I come back to the hotel, I eat some pasta, because it releases energy slowly, and I do the nap. Then, another shower, then I return to the concert hall, and I warm up the piano until the last moment.“
That morning in Paris, a light rain and a cool wind accompanied the artist. Green and white checkered pants, topped with a red polo shirt, a wool jacket, and a blue cap, surgical mask on the face: in the street, his colorful outfit stands out. But the man pays no attention to it. “The essentialshe explains, is to keep my body warm. It’s like acrobats or ballet dancers, they always wear wool on them. The heat must not escape.”
In the traffic jams that take him to the Philharmonie, he indulges in confidences and daydreams, imagining the horses in these streets more than a century ago, undoubtedly referring to the era in which the composers evolved that he loves and that he is there to serve. This evening, he chose a mazurka and Chopin’s second sonata, of which he is one of the greatest living interpreters. Then it will be Sibelius, a sad waltz, and the musical moments of Schubert, a composer he took a long time to really discover.
Because the particularity of man is that he gives himself entirely. Thus, his recordings are not legion. At the dawn of the 1980s, he suddenly became a star pianist at the age of 22 after his elimination from the Warsaw Chopin competition which caused a scandal. A notoriety for which he was not prepared. His angelic face propelled him to the front page of celebrity magazines, and offers of collaborations (for example with Michael Jackson) flooded in. Hollywood offers to make a biopic about his life. He refuses everything. After the death of his wife and teacher Aliza Kezeradze in 1996, who passed on to him nothing less than a pianistic tradition dating back to Liszt, he withdrew for a time, no longer recording. Twenty years later, the star of the 1980s has become one of the biggest names in the history of the piano: demanding, bordering on intransigence in the search for an ever more accurate sound and calibrated to the hundredth of seconds.
Some critics do not like it, detecting interpretations that defy common pianistic sense. Others, following the Argentinian pianist Martha Argerich who immediately understood the spirit of the piano that inhabited Ivo Pogorelich, recognize the genius.
At the end of the morning, the colorful genius discovers the exterior of the Philarmonie de Paris for the first time and is amused: “It’s thanks to you, I usually go behind the artists’ entrance. It’s interesting to see where the public comes from. It is a very impressive and unusual architecture, reminiscent of the Bilbao museum, with its very personal fluid forms..”
Then came the encounter with the piano, a Steinway from the haute couture piano workshops of Hamburg, which has only been used around ten times. Very slowly, while the agitation continues quietly around him, the man dips his fingers on the keyboard, listens, and puts himself in his bubble. Very slow, very gentle tempi, as if taming an animal.
André Furno, the producer of the Piano 4 Star series who insisted that he come and play at the Philarmonie, has the connoisseur’s eye which borders not far away: “Realize, there are very few pianists of this caliber who have this culture of sound. He had a great ancestor who is now deceased, it was Arturo Michelangeli. True virtuosity certainly consists of mastering octaves, each one more scathing than the last, but it is also and above all the quality of the sound, the color of the sound, the intensity of the sound.“All qualities that he recognizes in the man in the blue cap who continues, imperturbably, his training behind us.
A few meters away on the main stage, the Paris orchestra is in rehearsal. During the break, we follow Ivo Pogorelich, who memorizes for the first time the route he will take in the evening to go on stage. Among the few musicians who are still rehearsing bars of their score, he sizes up the room, in which he already played last year at the same time: “The particularity of this place is a certain intimacy with the public. You wouldn’t necessarily expect it from such a large room. Now if you look closely, you see that it is not very deep, the audience is really close. It’s very interesting. I think it’s good for Parisians to have such a place where they can come and listen to high quality classical concerts.”
The moment of rest has come, we will meet on his return, at the end of the afternoon, on this same stage. This time the Steinway has been installed, it is necessary to adjust the lights, according to an alchemy just as particular as the sound. Then the bubble reforms. Red polo shirt, blue hat, and mask on the face. Very slowly again, Ivo Pogorelich’s long fingers begin to tame the keys again, the attention to the sound is extreme, the surroundings are too much.
While preparing, the man does not notice that the public is already entering the room. Imperturbable, he becomes one with the instrument as if nothing else around it existed. Then, at 7:50 p.m., he disappears, while the volume of the room is already muted, as if suspended. Some have recognized it, others not yet.
It is 8:03 p.m., in a black frock coat, the imposing figure leaves the dressing room, while behind the scenes, the technicians have made the necessary announcements. The stage door opens onto the halo of light surrounding the piano.
This evening may be a concert like any other, but with Ivo Pogorelich it is never the same, and we are always just as surprised. As soon as the man sits down, his fingers relax on the keyboard like two giant spiders, alternately caressing and waving around the keys. A crystal festival is taking place. The more time passes, the more we feel like we are walking through a china shop. We do not recognize the funeral march of Chopin’s sonata, which he plays this evening with unusual softness and slowness. The summit is reached with Schubert, whose notes stand out with infinite delicacy, while the silence is finally at its peak. Ivo Pogorelich’s face gradually came to life, he could not contain his expressions, as if he were communing with the magic of the notes he offers us.
After the concert, the man locks himself in his dressing room for a long time. A moment of almost recollection to come back to him. When he comes out, it is with a big smile and thanks that he sends to us. We try to ask him if the angel of music has landed on his shoulder this evening, as a legend of the Colon theater in Buenos Aires says… He leaves, in a great burst of laughter.
Recital Chopin, Sibelius and Schubert
Ivo Pogorelich, piano
French tour 2024:
Wednesday November 13 at 8:30 p.m.: Bourges
St-Bonnet Theater, 1 Bd Georges Clémenceau
Thursday November 14: Angouleme
Theater, National Stage, as part of the Piano en Valois festival
Monday November 18: Marseille
La Criée, National Theater
Wednesday November 20: Bordeaux
National Opera, as part of the L’Esprit du piano festival
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