Capriccios Pinch Communication: Lucas Debargue’s Proficient Riffs on Fauré, Beethoven and Chopin
Misfired signals singed cohesion in this effort by the pianist at Wigmore Hall.
Lucas Debargue’s rendition of Fauré’s Préludes from another performance at the Istituzione Universitaria dei Concerti, Rome. Credit: YouTube (@iucsapienza2011).
Plying eyefuls of spectators with the spins of cellos, crooning saxophones and tacky scatting, certain showmen ooze a tameless entertainment. Chatter dims displays erroneous; raised shotglasses outsparkle notes. Inviting vice, the setting bets its repertoire against indulgence. Art is left to chance.
Romancing scores with similar stylistic tilts at Wigmore Hall, Lucas Debargue extended scintillating virtuosity last night. It alternately served and severed music.
At the opening prelude of Fauré’s Op. 103, the pianist’s right hand sang pings of splendour. Soon Debargue laid out the first of many modi operandi: he would tease the audience with a note’s approach, release it then delay a later tone.
Pearls of semiquavers pealed along the second prelude in precision but ‘Andante’ (No. 3) divided the two clefs with rhythms disparate. Insistent brightness rendered ‘Allegretto’s climbing chords exuberant – and yet their decrescendo was an anticlimax. Left- and right-hand triplets stormed through Prelude No. 5 at strife before the tempo eased away from Sturm und Drang, adopting milder temperatures.
Accenting the figure’s lead note in the sixth, Debargue appeared to shape surrounding measures with the aim of showcasing its spotlight – sweeping them away. Crescendos in the octave-higher range shone ostentatiously at the beginning of ‘Andante’ (No. 7); poco rit. (‘a little slower’) delayed Debargue’s impressive speed for a mere bar.
Although staccato stacks drove right hand chords with admirable aplomb in No. 8, the left hand’s leaps remained unceremoniously buried. A similar unevenness misshaped the harmony of the work’s final prelude.
Crunchy chords bunched at the start of Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 27 before quickly being scrapped for glittering, glissandi-like sextuplets. Accelerated quaver chords resembled rushed pedestrians ascatter in a storm until Debargue’s da capo pitted forte against pianissimo, released a series of sextuplets jazz-like and allayed the left hand’s treble clef with fleeting tenderness.
Brisk imitation in the blithe sonata-rondo second movement called to mind a programmatic piece. As semiquavers scrambled like a slew of mischief-makers, a disputing left hand’s triplets sounded the alarm of an upbraiding mother. In response the right hand’s runs grew skittishly self-pleasing – daydreaming but this time in restrained euphoria. This episode was one of the few moments in the evening when the pair collaborated to pursue a narrative, forsaking independence.
Flighty right-hand chords escaped the pace of monster-like intrusions in the left – fast pleading with their captors at the start of Chopin’s ‘Scherzo No. 4.’ Yet soon Debargue returned to churning them in a dichotomous avowal – illumining the right hand with fluorescent melody whilst its antagonist punched accidentals. Toward the close of this performance swift motifs arrived but skittered speedily away; rolled chords emerged inaudible. In Debargue’s trial-and-error method of experiment tales were missing in action.
Champagne’s shade pained Fauré’s ‘Quasi Adagio’, the theme of his Thème et variations (Op. 73), with a bevy of brassy bass clef notes. Sostenuto (‘Sustained’) said the score – but Debargue had other ideas, instead filling the opening lines with ebullient oratory. Where the left hand was to be performed pp, the right just p, Debargue declared the opposite but in a version more voluminous. Poco rit. here surfaced as a notable suspension of the central figure’s first chord.
Limber right-hand semiquaver runs lent calm to Fauré’s first variation, but diminished the left’s three-part figure. While the second harnessed the potential of both double sharps and naturals, synchronicity of hands was not consistent. By the third’s triplets and their corresponding chords, the clefs had gone their separate ways: ships passing in the night.
Glimmering high pitches and slick demisemiquavers tranquilly migrated along Variation No. 4 but the fifth’s prized acciaccaturas came out late. Lurking in the lurch, a left-hand rocking figure taunted semiquavers twirling like a ballerina in the sixth of Fauré’s outputs – screening one more image in a largely sceneless reel. Indulgence plunged descending chords of the ninth variation into excess luxury while the tenth’s rhythms argued.
Hypnosis seemed to be in order for the opening of Beethoven’s famed ‘Moonlight’ Sonata, No. 14. Unrolling its arpeggios with a honed homogeneity, Debargue let notes loom long and hopeless. Nihilism sounded till a forte broke through in one hand to combat its competitor’s pp.
Perfectly apportioned triplets in the left hand seemed machine-like while the central three-note figure beckoned like a cipher. Although the final chord is marked with an attack in the sonata’s score, Debargue struck lightly before starting the next movement.
Staccato chords explored with gem-like daintiness here sprung in brashness. Some were graceful but too quick. Across the ‘Presto agitato’ movement they beat winglike – shuffling their accompanying Alberti bass into oblivion. The A sharp’s trill shrunk out of earshot but Debargue’s two final chords adorned a grand finale.
A long-held pause succeeded the first chord of Chopin’s Ballade No. 3, which galvanised the first note of its triplets with a bang. The mezza voce section’s C-note broken octave came out like a grace note-spotted tone; rests barely registered amidst the pace. Acciaccaturas stressed the head note too excessively and the next broken octave of A♭ sang like a Gershwin lullaby. Runs twinkled in a bliss sublime at Debargue’s mastery, however.
Voltage tagged the left hand of Debargue’s first encore, his transcription of Fauré’s mélodie ‘Après un rêve,’ with white-hot clarity. In this rendition of the work our ear met the performer’s signature refinements: tardy entrances, rubato-scattered chords and racy grace notes. His second encore – another composition, this time inspired by the French master’s Cantique de Jean Racine – exposed more brightness in the right hand and abrupt swoops into hushed diminuendo. Semiquaver runs and hops transposed an octave higher populated both this piece and Debargue’s final encore: off-the-cuff improvisation.
Tailoring the staves to suit his purposes, Debargue designed majestic tributes to composers in this reconfiguring recital. Decoding the composers’ scores seemed to be missing from that mission, nonetheless, and so was magic.