Valentina Lisitsa M. MUSSORGSKY Pictures at an Exhibition

PICTURES AT AN EXHIBITION

Valentina Lisitsa plays JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH

                                                      JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH

Valentina Lisitsa TCHAIKOVSKY Complete Works for Solo Piano

Valentina Lisitsa is bold, fearless and forthright to just the right degree in the early works, keen to relish every opportunity Tchaikovsky offers to rack up the tension. We seem set fair for a convincing and idiomatic survey of the solo works … until, oh dear, we hit the buffers on track 6 – the rarely played Valse-caprice, Op 4. What we get is a deconstruction of the piece played at practice speed, lasting an interminable 13'31". Both Viktoria Postnikova (8'47") and Michael Ponti (5'33", with the repeat of the first section omitted), in their complete Tchaikovsky sets, present the true spirit of the piece.

Working one’s way through all 10 discs, you realise with mounting disappointment that this mannerism is something like a default position with Lisitsa when it comes to reflective, technically undemanding works. Indeed, I recall a recital in Cremona a few years ago when she eked out the last pages of a sequence of Chopin Nocturnes with extended rallentandos to the same somnolent effect. Here, for example, are the 12 Morceaux, Op 40, an archetypical Tchaikovsky mixture of inspired and insipid short works. It begins with the brief ‘Étude’, a veritable whirlwind that Lisitsa storms through with thrilling velocity and a marvellous leggiero touch. Immediately after that comes the lovely (and well-known) ‘Chanson triste’. Tchaikovsky marks this Allegro non troppo (not Lisitsa’s moderato) and requests that la melodia be played con molto espressione – which means a degree of rubato, yes, but not a tenuto on the first beat of every bar, dragging down the pulse and bringing a stop go momentum to proceedings. Again, the tempo Lisitsa adopts for No 9 (another salon favourite) is hardly Tempo di valse, its airy grace replaced by a heavy tread, the left-hand melody of its central section dominated by the secondary material in the right hand.

Whenever there is a piece or part of a piece that demands fleet fingers and incisive rhythm – the second sections of ‘Au village’ (No 7), say, and ‘Danse russe’ (No 10) – then Lisitsa is bang on the money; whenever the mood is retrospective or reflective, she becomes a vivisectionist, unpicking these fragile miniatures so that the structure collapses. Try No 12, ‘Rêverie interrompue’, which drifts home at 6'08" compared with Posnikova’s 4'29", a faster reading that, ironically, projects a dreamlike reverie far more vividly. The last track on this CD (disc 6) is Dumka, Op 59, which illustrates to perfection Lisitsa’s Jekyll and Hyde approach.

It is one that is also in evidence on disc 4, which is devoted to The Seasons. Much (in fact, most) of the playing here is quite lovely but, just when you are thinking that this is an account to set beside the best, you sit becalmed in a gondola, with the ‘Barcarolle’ (June) extended to over six minutes. Mikhail Pletnev, who himself is in no hurry to come home, gets to the heart of the matter in 4'36" (Virgin/Erato, 12/94).

So then what do you do when you are presented on disc 3 with both the sonatas (the Grand Sonata, Op 37, followed by the early Sonata in C sharp minor published posthumously) in two of the finest performances I have come across? Lisitsa swallows them whole, with playing of immense power and conviction, allowing herself plenty of time to dream when required without ever slipping into her unsustainable practice-tempo mode. With her incisive attack and steely articulation, this is piano-playing of great character and individuality. If you have stayed clear of Tchaikovsky’s sonatas, these may be the performances that tempt you to investigate.

Elsewhere are Tchaikovsky’s other collections of short works (Opp 19, 39, 51 and 72), works without opus numbers, and the Fifty Russian Folk Songs arranged for four hands (Lisitsa is joined in these by Alexei Kuznetsoff). Discs 9 and 10 are devoted to Tchaikovsky’s own piano arrangements of his orchestral works including the complete Nutcracker, Potpourri on Themes from ‘The Voyevoda’, the Festival Coronation March (a dreadful piece in any form), and the 1812 overture (a thankless task for any pianist). However, the transcription of Marche slave is extraordinary, an ingenious reworking for the keyboard and a stunning tour de force by Lisitsa. On its own it might just be enough to make you press that ‘add to cart’ button.

I might say that the piano, a Bösendorfer, has been very well recorded, even if Lisitsa can sometimes produce a somewhat hectoring, brittle tone at fortissimo and above. The presentation of the 10 discs and the booklet are first-class. In conclusion, Lisitsa offers the most comprehensive Tchaikovsky intégrale on the market but I shall not be replacing my much-played Ponti LPs or, on balance, Postnikova’s seven CDs. I can do without The Nutcracker and the 1812 on the piano – and, ultimately, without the series of eccentric musical decisions that mar Lisitsa’s set. (Jeremy Nicholas / Gramophone)

CD 1 - CD 2 / CD 3 - CD 4 / CD 5 - CD 6 / CD 7 - CD 8 / CD 9 - CD 10

Valentina Lisitsa SCRIABIN Nuances

Valentina Lisitsa is a remarkable pianist, with consistent YouTube video views reaching over 90 million total and with almost 200,000 subscribers.

Following her recent, well-received recordings of Glass, Nyman, and the Études of Chopin and Schumann, she now turns to the piano works of Scriabin.

For Scriabin’s 100th anniversary in 2015 – Valentina delves into his lesser-known works and finds some beautiful gems. Across a carefully selected range of works for piano, this album showcases Scriabin’s compositions through his lifetime.

Consistently a favourite composer among many legendary pianists, Scriabin has in recent years become admired as one of the early 20th century’s most innovative and influential composers. With a highly lyrical and idiosyncratic tonal language inspired by the music of Frédéric Chopin. Scriabin may be considered to be the primary figure among the Russian Symbolist composers.

All the works included are recorded for Decca for the very first time - these are revelatory performances from YouTube sensation, pianist Valentina Lisitsa; a wonderful artist with exceptional musicality and a stunning technique.

The digital version includes four extra tracks: three beautiful short piano pieces, and Scriabin’s Duet in d minor for two sopranos and piano in possibly its first recording.

Valentina Lisitsa’s web presence firmly establishes her as a classical musician of the modern age, with her videos – consistently viewed over 1m times - covering a vast number of works including the Beethoven Piano Sonatas and well-loved Lizst & Rachmaninov pieces though to music by Glass and Nyman.

An established musician, she has debuted with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, Seattle Symphony Orchestra, WDR Cologne and many other orchestras. In an innovative and exciting move, her London debut at the Royal Albert Hall (19th June 2012) was recorded & filmed by Decca. Broadcast live online, and released immediately after the event with a following DVD, this ground-breaking release was a bold statement of Valentina’s musical aims, and of Decca’s commitment to enhancing its digital presence worldwide. (Presto Classical)

Hilary Hahn / Valentina Lisitsa CHARLES IVES Four Sonatas

In addition to fine program notes by our former colleague Robert Kirzinger, Hillary Hahn writes about her and her duo partner’s experiences learning and playing Ives sonatas. In two pages, Hahn says more about learning and performing Ives, and about performing music in general, than I have seen in any book. I would quote her entire essay, except that you are going to buy this disc and so can read it yourself. “A piece of music eventually has to get onstage, in front of audiences, for its performers to see its true colors.” After taking the Third Sonata around the world: “The more we played it for various audiences, the more the details and refinements Ives wrote into his score became ingrained into our musical consciousness, and the freer we became to explore additional expressive possibilities.”
I think of Hahn as a very “classical” artist, although she plays and has recorded everything from J. S. Bach to Jennifer Higdon. Her tone here is very clean and a touch dry, without a drop of romantic syrup—which would not be out of place in Ives’s sonatas. Her playing suggests the word “honesty,” fully appropriate for Ives, the Yankee traditionalist/iconoclast. Kirzinger this time: “Combining the classical tradition of Brahms and Beethoven with the vibrant, self-reliant spirit of an optimistic, growing, still-young United States …” Hahn and Valentina Lisitsa lean toward the masters but do not shortchange the Americanisms; they just make sure that the popular elements do not take over. At first hearing, these performances sound a bit conservative, but they wear well, no doubt for just that reason.
Returning to a favorite set by Gregory Fulkerson and Robert Shannon, we find more emotion, more heart-on-sleeve playing, and it works very well. But Fulkerson’s intonation is inconsistent and his tone runs to edginess. It is Shannon who provides the depth and clarity on that Bridge set; he emerges as more than a full partner. Lisitsa is by no means a cipher; she and Hahn have obviously come to full agreement—they play as one, each taking the lead as the music requires. Fulkerson’s tempi sound just right (well, I am used to them); Hahn is considerably faster in all but one of the 12 movements (a total timing of 66:24 to Fulkerson’s 79:52), and yet her performances never seem rushed. Deutsche Grammophon provides fine sound from Clubhouse, a recording studio in Rhinebeck, New York. While I won’t discard Fulkerson/Shannon, I have no hesitation recommending Hahn/Lisitsa as a first choice for this wonderful music. (Arkiv Music)

Valentina Lisitsa MICHAEL NYMAN Chasing Pianos

Ukrainian pianist Valentina Lisitsa has taken an unusual path toward career development: she posted her Chopin performances to YouTube, gained a strong following there, and then hired the London Symphony Orchestra for a set of Rachmaninov concerto performances. The gambit seems to be working: Lisitsa's performances of late Romantic repertoire have been reasonably well received, and now she's earned the right to implement what one imagines was the point of the whole exercise in the first place: the pursuit of the crossover audience centered above all in Britain. There is no denying that Chasing Pianos works well. British composer Michael Nyman has made a long specialty out of minimalist music that shades in the direction of melodic pop. Although Nyman has stated that opera is his favored genre, the style is ideally suited to film scores, and his music for The Piano (1993) is a classic of the genre. That score, adapted for solo piano, is heavily featured here, along with music from other scores that is artfully chosen to give just enough contrast to avoid sheer repetitiveness without disturbing the basic calm surface. Lisitsa's style, flawlessly precise and slightly mechanical, fits this music in a rather eerie way, and fans of Nyman's music will doubtless find a fresh and exciting take on it here. Those coming to the music from the film The Piano or from one of the other soundtracks represented should also be pleased. The sound, from the concert hall at Britain's Wyastone Estate, is unusually well suited to the project: dreamy and soft without being overly gauzy.(James Manheim)

Valentina Lisitsa plays PHILIP GLASS The Hours - Metamorphosis - Mad Rush

With her multi-faceted playing described as “dazzling”, Valentina Lisitsa is at ease in a vast repertoire ranging from Bach and Mozart to Shostakovich and Bernstein. Her orchestral repertoire alone includes more than 40 concertos. She admits to having a special affinity for the music of Rachmaninov and Beethoven and continues to add to her vast repertoire each season.
Born in Kiev, Ukraine, in 1973, Valentina Lisitsa began playing the piano at the age of three, giving her first solo recital a year later. She gained a place at the Lysenko Music School for Gifted Children and later studied at the Kiev Conservatory under Ludmilla Tsvierko. In 1991 she won the first prize in the Murray Dranoff Two Piano Competition together with Alexei Kuznetsoff. She now resides in the USA.
Lisitsa has performed at such leading international venues as New York’s Carnegie and Avery Fisher halls and the Vienna Musikverein. In May 2010, she made her debut with the Rotterdam Philharmonic playing the Dutch premiere of Rachmaninov’s “New 5th” Concerto and in August 2011 made her debut with the Orquestra Sinfônica Brasileira under Lorin Maazel.
With more than 50 million YouTube views, Valentina Lisitsa is one of the most watched classical musicians on the internet, using digital innovation to champion classical music and performance. Impressed by her YouTube success, the Royal Albert Hall, in an unprecedented step, opened its doors for the young musician’s London debut on 19 June 2012. Further 2012-13 season engagements include concerto appearances in Rotterdam, Munich, Mexico City, Italy and across the USA, as well as recitals in Europe, North and South America.
In 2012 Valentina Lisitsa signed an exclusive agreement with Decca Classics. Her first Decca release was her June 2012 Albert Hall recital, immediately available for pre-order on the night of the concert, digital only, followed by the CD release on 3 July. Further Decca releases include the complete concertos of Rachmaninov and Paganini Rhapsody with the London Symphony Orchestra under Michael Francis. Other recordings from Valentina include the four Ives Violin Sonatas with Hilary Hahn, released by Deutsche Grammophon in January 2012.

Pianist Valentina Lisitsa presents a double album's worth of pieces for solo piano by Philip Glass, one of the most influential composers of our time. As her previous album of music by Michael Nyman shows, Lisitsa is in her element in the sound world of minimalism.

Valentina Lisitsa CHOPIN - SCHUMANN Études

Ukraine-to-North Carolina transplant Valentina Lisitsa has gained tremendous popularity by using YouTube (75 million views and counting) to market her music. No one should say that Lisitsa is merely an Internet phenomenon; more like her, taking the music directly to potential listeners through contemporary media, are sorely needed. The Internet has propelled her to a spot on the roster of the major Decca label, and she has played mostly mainstream Romantic repertory with a diversion, on her last release prior to this one, into the piano music of Michael Nyman. Here she takes on some real standards, the 24 Chopin Etudes, Op. 10 and Op. 25, and the technically even more perilous Symphonic Etudes, Op. 13, of Schumann, rendered with five extra variations in the middle excised by Schumann from the work and published posthumously (the work is essentially a set of variations that spills over its boundaries, something like the Diabelli Variations, Op. 120, of Beethoven). The Schumann fits Lisitsa's strengths; she has formidable technique in passagework and is exceptionally skilled at bringing out the kind of inner counterpoint that the Symphonic Etudes are all about. The same strengths apply in the Chopin, where her left hand doesn't flag in the workout it receives. According to the booklet notes, the Chopin etude performances of Alfred Cortot served Lisitsa as a reference point. Her performances don't really sound like Cortot's beyond a somewhat idiosyncratic quality; Cortot's readings apparently caused Rachmaninov to laugh so hard that his false teeth fell out, and it's hard to imagine that happening here. There's nothing terribly poetic about Lisitsa's performance, but there's no denying that she's on top of the music and that the physicality she has brought to it on the Internet is present. An interesting chapter in a unique contemporary pianistic career. (James Manheim)

Valentina Lisitsa plays LISZT

Valentina Lisitsa records Liszt’s most technically challenging work, the “unplayable” La Contrabandista, conceived by Liszt as a spectacular recital encore. Seldom recorded, this work is a true virtuosic challenge for any pianist. Performed with Valentina’s legendary fiery aplomb, this is an imaginative program, embracing some of Liszt’s celebrated transcriptions of music by Schubert and Verdi.

Valentina is the first “YouTube star” of classical music to have converted her online success into a global concert career in the principal venues of Europe, the USA, South America and Asia. The number of views of her YouTube channel has now topped an astonishing 60 million, and her legion of loyal and adoring fans continues to grow. ARead more pianist who lives in the moment and on the edge. (ArkivMusic)

Valentina Lisitsa / London Symphony Orchestra / Michael Francis RACHMANINOV The Piano Concertos - Paganini Rhapsody

Ukrainian-born Valentina Lisitsa really is a child of our time; despite a promising start to her playing career circumstances conspired to force a premature retirement from the concert platform. However, she was dissuaded from such a precipitate move and posted her first YouTube video in 2007; the rest, as they say, is history. She’s new to me - I’d not seen her video of the Chopin Études, which did remarkably well when it appeared online - and all the publicity suggested that her Rachmaninov would be rather special too.
There are several high-profile sets of the Rachmaninov concertos and the Paganini Rhapsody, among them the Earl Wild/Jascha Horenstein/RPO box from the 1960s (Chandos), Vladimir Ashkenazy and André Previn’s from the 1970s (Decca) and, much more recently, Leif Ove Andsnes and Antonio Pappano’s cycle (EMI) and Stephen Hough’s Andrew Litton/Dallas Symphony series (Hyperion). Ashkenazy and Lisitsa have the benefit of the LSO in good form - the Andsnes set is split between the LSO and the Berlin Philharmonic - with generally decent recordings to match.
Returning to the Wild accounts after some years I was reminded of how testosterone-charged they are. These recordings - big, bold and very forwardly balanced - have not worn well; some may find this an exciting and tempestuous partnership but there’s a relentlessness here that’s very fatiguing after a while. By contrast the Hough/Litton recordings are soft-grained and the playing and sonics are more appealing in their mix of poetry and power. Ditto Andsnes and Pappano. That said, neither is an unequivocal success, which isn’t that surprising as ‘complete’ traversals seldom are.
With such caveats in mind Yevgeny Sudbin’s BIS recording of the first concerto with Lan Shui and the Singapore Symphony Orchestra strikes a very good balance between energy and insight; this has all the makings of a compelling and consistent set, which I hope will emerge with more alacrity than Noriko Ogawa’s did. Her Rachmaninov has had a mixed reception, as suggested by Chris Howell’s lukewarm response to Nos. 1, 4 and the Paganini Rhapsody. No doubt listeners will have preferred versions of individual works - Michelangeli’s No. 4, for instance - and I always tend towards the mix-and-match approach rather than the one-set solution. That said, the latter are often keenly priced, so one or two disappointments won’t necessarily be a deal-breaker.
First impressions of the Lisitsa set are favourable. Some may find the opening to the Piano Concerto No. 1 a tad self-effacing, but it soon becomes clear that Lisitsa’s is a reading of unusual sensitivity and charm. Conductor Michael Francis and the LSO certainly provide thrilling weight and emphasis as the work progresses, which only underlines this pianist’s intensely poetic utterances. What pleases me most is that there’s no sign of self-aggrandising virtuosity here; indeed, there’s a lightness and spontaneity to her playing that’s matched at every turn by luminous sounds from the LSO. The Andante had me holding my breath, such are its moments of transporting loveliness, and the warm, velvety recording - made in the legendary Studio No. 1 at Abbey Road - is very seductive too.
What a heart-melting performance of the first concerto this is; surely it would it be tempting fate to expect the same from its partner on CD 1, the rhapsodic third? Well, I’m delighted to report that Lisitsa’s control of rhythm, touch and phrasing in Piano Concerto No. 3 is just as miraculous, and the liquid Allegro ma non tanto races, swirls and eddies with the best of them. The LSO are pin-sharp in their responses and there’s a powerful sense of the players sitting in rapt attention during the solos. Lisitsa’s is not a big, muscular sound but it is a lithe, well-toned one, and she lights up this most familiar concerto in ways I scarcely thought possible.
Francis is a sympathetic and supple partner in this ravishing enterprise, and his control of tempi and dynamics are well judged at all times. The dreamily effusive Intermezzo is so economically done, and what some may regard as an air of containment - too much reserve, perhaps - just adds to the delicious inner tension of this performance. I’ve rarely heard these music-box moments dance with such light steps, or the sections segue so seamlessly. Again, some may find the Finale too reticent, but what it lacks in sheer breadth it more than makes up for in beguiling shape, detail and colour.
The second disc opens with a sonorous and imposing account of the Piano Concerto No. 2. There’s no shortage of sweep, and the free-flowing elements at the heart of the first movements are most persuasively presented. That said, Lisitsa rises magnificently to the challenge of the noisier passages, the quieter ones a telling counterpoint to what’s gone before. It’s a measure of this pianist’s magnetic presence that the sense of being in a concert hall, of witnessing a live event, is so palpable, not least in that yearning, oh-so-songful Adagio sostenuto. The LSO strings play like angels here, and the dialogue between soloist and orchestra is finely poised throughout.
Any reservations? Perhaps one or two of those Brahmsian horn entries could be tidier and the pulse, which often falters in this central movement, is steady if not always strong. The same could be said of the Allegro scherzando, although Lisitsa’s lyrical gifts are never in doubt. Tuttis are suitably forceful but never overbearing and Francis keeps the orchestra on a tight rein; as for Lisitsa she rhapsodises but rarely rambles, and the concerto ends with all the brio one could wish.
The mercurial Fourth Concerto gets a decent if not entirely memorable reading, and the LSO provide plenty of punch when required. Occasionally one senses a worrying loss of focus - the soloist is apt to wander and the hitherto crisp sound is rather congested at times - and for once I found myself thinking Lisitsa and Francis could do much better than this. Still, it’s not a bad performance, just not as caught-on-the-wing-wonderful as Nos. 1, 3 and, to a large extent, No. 2. As for the Paganini Rhapsody it’s a major disappointment; it’s not as sharply drawn as the best, or as warmly recorded, and all too often I longed for more colour and contrast.
Lisitsa really shines in the first and third concertos and the second is pretty impressive too, but for some reason the remaining works - perhaps more opaque than the others - just don’t respond as readily to her innately lyrical approach. Inexplicably the sound isn’t consistent either; indeed, the Rhapsody is very bright in the treble and any sense of presence seems to have evaporated entirely. No: real joy resides in the first disc, in which we encounter a composer of rare tenderness and vulnerability, of great passion bridled only to gallop away in those glorious tuttis.
I had started to think that if anyone could rescue these warhorses from the knacker’s yard it would be Lisitsa. Perhaps that was asking too much - older, more experienced pianists haven’t managed that either - but I’d snap up this twofer for the revelatory first disc alone. Now if the second had lived up to that initial promise Lisitsa would be in very exalted company indeed.
Lisitsa’s is a delightful and engaging talent; I predict great things for her. (Dan Morgan, MusicWeb International)