Maurizio Pollini, Royal Festival Hall, classical review: Exquisitely wrought and flawlessly delivered

By the time he reached his second encore he was playing like a god

Maurizio Pollini (Karen Robinson)

These days Maurizio Pollini’s London recitals always follow the same pattern. He scuttles nervously on stage, and dives into his first piece to fast and too anxiously to do either it or himself justice. Only after the interval does he start to relax enough to allow his artistry to emerge; by the time he’s reached his second encore, he’s playing like a god.

This time the pattern was slightly different, in that he prefaced his first big piece with Schoenberg’s Six Little Piano Pieces in memory of Pierre Boulez, and to these he brought a limpid delicacy. Then came Schumann’s declamatory Allegro in B minor, too fast for either comfort or clarity of texture, to be followed by the same composer’s Fantaisie in C Op 17: only in the final section of that did Pollini find the requisite poise.

Chopin’s Barcarolle and his first Opus 55 Nocturne were a bit scrambled, but in the second Nocturne of the set the hoped-for transformation took place, and the years fell away. Now it was the smiling, youthful Pollini we were listening to: the Polonaise-Fantaisie, the third Scherzo, and two majestic Chopin encores were each exquisitely wrought, and flawlessly delivered. Seventy-four years young; a standing ovation.