|
Back
Bruce Liu’s fingers did the singing New York
Isaac Stern Auditorium, Carnegie Hall
02/20/2026 -
Győrgy Ligeti: Etude No. 4 “Fanfares”
Johann Sebastian Bach: French Suite No. 5 in G Major, BWV 816
Ludwig van Beethoven: Piano Sonata No. 21 in C Major “Waldstein”, Opus 53
Frédéric Chopin: Nocturnes, Opus 27
Maurice Ravel: Miroirs: 4. “Alborada del gracioso”
Frederic Mompou: Glossa sobre “Au clair de la lune” – Fantasia sobre “Au clair de la lune
Isaac Albéniz: Iberia (Book One): 2. “El Puerto”
Franz Liszt: Rhapsodie espagnole, S. 254
Bruce Liu (Pianist) 
B. Liu (© Christopher Koestlin)
“All these cultures surrounding me have a great impact on me. Chinese would be the traditional side. I feel like the history of Chinese culture, Confucianism and Taoism, is in my blood. I grew up in Canada, so I’m also heavily influenced by the openness and dynamism of North America. I have ties with Europe through my work, and from European culture, I like to take historical refinement.”
Bruce Liu
Were Bruce Lee to program a five‑hour concert solely with études–Chopin, Liszt, Debussy, Ligeti, even Czerny–I would jump on my Fire Horse, gallop through deserts, leap atop flaming volcanoes, wade through oceans and run like the wind to that concert hall.
When it came to downright sheer virtuosity, Mr. Liu was...well, astounding is a terrible adjective. Yet when it came to fingers and hands, the young man seemed to be indefatigable miraculous.
With a program of seven whirlwind works, each displaying endless trills, runs up and down the keyboard, soaring treble melodies with ear-popping bass figurations, Mr. Liu made the impossible sound...well, not insouciant. But with a crystalline perfection I have heard rarely.
Frankly, I was mesmerized by his frankly indescribable virtuosity. How legati turned into faultless glissandi. How the most blazing chords became resplendent like Armenian church bells.
His was an astonishing performance, both from the fingers and the mind.
Yet still, from the very first notes of a Ligeti Etude to Franz Liszt’s Iberian madness, one felt–rather stupidly–that Bruce Liu was too damned good for the likes of Bach, Beethoven, Ravel and Liszt. That his ineffable playing was (this is logical only if you had been in Carnegie Hall) better than the music itself.
Certainly it was no accident that five years ago he was unanimous winner of Warsaw’s International Chopin Competition, signing hardly a year later with Deutsche Grammophon. In fact, with the first few notes of a faultless Beethoven “Waldstein” and Ravel’s “Alborado del gracioso,” he was both sparkling and sweet.
Was Bruce Liu, then was too extraordinary for 88 keys?
What was wrong? He was not idiosyncratic, though the Bach sounded more Gallic than merely French. He was certainly poetic, And again his virtuosity was both artistic and youthful.
His left hand was peculiarly strong, and his rhythmic sense in the Ravel and Liszt was apparent in every facet. Of course his trademark Chopin in all‑too‑few nocturnes was clear and artful.
How I would like to say that wondrous young man was totally at the service of the musical essence. Instead, I felt that the musical essence was at the service at the wondrous young man.
That opening Ligeti Fanfares was a miracle of fingering at breakneck (and appropriate) velocity. Yet Mr. Liu barely touched the obsessive rhythm changes, the obsession with the fortissimo endings. True, this was an etude, but equally true, Ligeti never ever took the bold originally way out.
Beethoven’s Waldstein was another example where Mr. Liu’s virtuosity sparkled, his last-movement coda glissandi glowed. What was missing? Perhaps even an inkling of depth, of subterranean currents beneath the poetry, brought out only momentarily in the Adagio molto.
The second half of the program was pure enchantment. What could go wrong with his prize‑winning Chopin, his punctuated Ravel (double notes sounding like snare drum tapping), the solid Mompou (though perhaps not as good as Rosemary Clooney’s Mompou Italiana)? And obviously the second Iberian piece, Liszt’s Spanish Rhapsody.
Chopin might be Mr. Liu’s trademark, but Liszt–especially the uninhibited showoff‑ish Spanish Rhapsody– must be tuneful, percussively rhythmic and challenging at the same time.
Bruce Liu hit all those notes–literally! It was gorgeous playing, augmented by a trio of encores: Beethoven, Chopin and a wonderful Siloti re‑written (not transcribed!) Bach B Minor Prelude. As ever, Mr. Liu’s fingers did the talking.
Not talking, but singing. Marlowe and Shakespeare, Auden and Keats. That singing tone was sometimes too sonorous, but it was always remarkable.
Harry Rolnick
|
