My condolences go to all who missed 2022 Cliburn silver medalist Anna Geniushene’s Boston debut Sunday evening. It was difficult to find a chair at First Church, Boston as the crowd of young pianists and members of Boston’s Russian community filled the room to the rear-most rows. Presented by Sound Ways Inc., an organization which supports Russian music students in the United States, Geniushene inspired with works by young artists and Russians. Paul Rudolf’s angular space seemed to vibrate in excited conversation as all waited eagerly to hear the rising star.
The first half of her Boston debut comprised five composers’ first opi across the first three centuries of the piano’s existence, beginning with Clementi’s first sonata, a jocular ditty in E-flat major published at the age of 19. Geniushene engaged with an earnest smile, her attitude transforming the quirky movement into an earnest statement of joy within a barebones texture. She left the Allegro with a gentle flutter from the damper pedal before diving into the rondo. The sonata came to life as she pitted its florid organic melody over carefully placed, pointed bass notes. In a flurry, the movement came to an end with a I-V-I and some light applause. Schumann’s Abegg Variations evoked similar feelings. Despite Schumann’s austere portraiture, performances like this one make me think he must have had a big, toothy grin when he played in his younger days. She gave the theme a graceful, vocal-like inflection accompanied by sensitive repeated chords in the left hand that sounded like purring. The brilliant, controlled arpeggios peppered throughout the initial variation seemed to fall as gently as rain drops, unlike the stamped of humorous triads in the third variation which evoked a rye chuckle from some in the audience. The even numbered variations displayed Geniushene’s facility for cantabile tone, where she presented the second movement a passionate duet and the fourth the song of a gondolier. She concluded the piece by evoking every emotion not yet heard. The fanciful finale fervently swelled from lively happiness to desperation and fear before resting on a note of coy repose that gave way to quiet, indulgent ecstasy.
It was during Mieczysław Weinberg’s Wiegenlied No. 1 that I began to appreciate Geniushene’s extreme sensitivity to touch and balance. It begins in the gentlest arpeggios that span the length of the keyboard while an ethereal soprano line meanders about. Geniushene tenderly brought out the melodic line and brilliantly shaped it around the expressive, cattywampus arpeggios. She created an organic texture that fluidly evolved recitative-like until it faded into the rumble of Steinway bass. Wiegenlied felt meterless, timeless, as it cradled us.
Her declamatory style came across in Chopin’s Rondo No. 1, as conversational exchanges and evinced her virtuosic understanding of the classical style and made Chopin’s very thoughts intelligible. She fearlessly moved her hands away from the keyboard for expressive effect, especially to heighten the dramatic tension of cadences and pauses.
Tchaikovsky’s Two Pieces, Op. 1 brought together all of the artist’s superb qualities. Beginning with the second, she stomped out the applause by launching into the impromptu’s arresting opening. The desperate knocking of repeated chords echoed off the walls as the piercing scaler motives shouted at us. She realized this passage not only with contrasting articulations from the piano, but also with actual color changes between motives that sounded like an organ. She carefully blended these colors to create a complex timbre for the transition into the secondary theme that genially sounded like an organist removing stops until only a solitary flute in the pedal remained. Not only did the aching melody sound louder than the rest of the texture but it also felt more colorful, dynamic, and alive. Carefully balanced against the incessant beating…
This article was originally published by a www.classical-scene.com . Read the Original article here. .