Dans cet enregistrement des Concertos pour piano n° 24 et 25 de Mozart, le pianiste Ben Kim captive son auditeur de la première à la dernière note par sa grande virtuosité. Il a un jeu brillant au clavier, un son agréable et magnifique. Sa technique remplie de vitalité, pratiquement euphorique, et son incroyable raffinement interprétatif mettent en valeur la beauté, la recherche de joie et de sens au milieu de la douleur et des difficultés de ces concertos. Tout comme Mozart dans leur composition, l’interprète nous livre l'aboutissement de son expérience d'introspection existentielle difficile dans l’apprentissage et l’enregistrement de ces concertos. Le piano se tisse humblement autour de l'orchestre, voire de chaque instrument, au lieu de le concurrencer. Et chacun a un rôle déterminant : les halos que font les violons, la clarinette soupirante ou le hautbois perçant, l'âme des altos luxuriants, le basson, riant et suppliant. Cela remplit ce disque de grandes émotions dont le fil conducteur est la recherche de la confiance dans la vulnérabilité. Ces concertos traduisent bien le pouvoir de la musique à transcender la condition humaine tout en nous rapprochant de nous-mêmes. (Mathieu Niezgoda) If in my previous recording of Mozart Concertos I tried to say something valid and truthful, albeit sincere, with this album I wanted to simply be. For me, Mozart's Piano Concertos Nos. 24 and 25 are a testament to the beauty and imperfection of the human experience and about finding joy and meaning in the midst of pain and hardship. Even though they are considered today to have pushed the boundaries of the genre, the premiere of the 24th concerto in 1876 left listeners puzzled and uneasy. It wasn’t an opera, yet it sounded like one. What was a piece of passionate lament doing in a solo concerto expected to dazzle more than move audiences? By the time he wrote the 25th, unapologetically symphonic in scope, Mozart had lost enough subscribers that he had to postpone his performance by an entire season. The concerto would not be performed again until nearly 150 years later by Arthur Schnabel. Musicologists have since speculated about the reasons for this abandonment. Perhaps it was the public's fickle taste, or Austria’s economic crisis, or perhaps it was both. But the reason that makes most sense to me: Mozart’s artistic development alienated his listeners. At the cost of losing his audience Mozart was trying – as we all do – to re-align with himself, and be himself more truthfully, more succinctly, more unapologetically. But finding confidence in vulnerability somehow became the story of this album – not just Mozart’s, but also my own.
|