By WILLIAM DART
David Guerin is a pianist of rare taste and discretion, without whose talents and dedication New Zealand music would be inestimably poorer. He has been a fierce champion of our composers, but recently his energies have been channelled into exploring a wider repertoire.
The relatively intimate surroundings of the
University Music Theatre were the perfect setting for Guerin's recital of the complete Debussy Preludes on Sunday, and it was not difficult to become rapt in the intense concentration that reigned.
The pianist's careful deliberation makes us feel those Delphic dancers were trying to pull themselves from the frozen stone, while Debussy's final flurry of fireworks was galvanic in its energy. You could almost smell the earthiness of the Anacapri hills, and the sultry rhythms of La Puerta del Vino had a real physicality to them.
Guerin was determined also to make us see through Debussy darkly. The pianist's Western Wind was far more to be feared than the composer's dynamics might suggest, while the Serenade Interrompue slashed mercilessly into our sensibilities.
Knowing Guerin's advocacy for contemporary music, I suspect that we were being reminded just how much more adventurous a spirit Debussy was than the younger Ravel.
Two things are crucial when playing Debussy: articulation and the skilled use of sustaining pedal. Guerin's articulation was what one might expect from a man who has Bach's Goldbergs under his belt: exemplary.
The capricious Puck was a witty drypoint etching and the same meticulousness could be found in the all-enveloping mists of Brouillards. Debussy insists here that the notes be extremely equal and light, and Guerin did just this.
Guerin's pedalling was a revelation. At times, as if in the throes of some personal nostalgia, he seemed loath to let the harmonies vanish into the ether. These were sonorities for us to sink into. They lingered like the mists and fogs of autumn itself and their dispersal was as much an event as their creation.
After such a taxing programme, the generous Guerin, asking for our indulgence, offered an encore. As a particularly apt envoi, he gave us the untroubled night sky of Clair de Lune.
