Stephen Hough at the Town Hall Concert Chamber

By WILLIAM DART

To enjoy a pianist of Stephen Hough's stature in such intimate environs is a rare treat; to hear him in a programme such as that offered on Friday evening even more so.

Although the concert is advertised as offering "Spanish sun and Viennese charm", a bleak floral display to the right of the pianist has precious little to do with either, although this is immediately overlooked with the opening phrase of Berg's Piano Sonata.

In this celebrated "Opus One", Berg unfolds 10 minutes of pure rapture, sometimes sounding as if Debussy had created a potpourri of themes from Wagner's Tristan and Isolde. Hough comes up with subtle voicings and Tristanesque shudders that, from time to time, dart to the surface. Berg aficionados must notice the subtle modifications when the first section comes in for a repeat.

Alas, the roar of a four-wheeled hoon storming up Queen St intrudes on its final chord.

Schubert's great G major Sonata is difficult to bring off. Opting for a fastish tempo, Hough's fastidious touch and phrasing accentuate its eccentric shifts of mood and the composer's idiosyncratic writing.

The Andante comes up with wilder contrasts - a tranquil opening theme gives way to pounding chords, the dying tones of which are not flatteringly caught on this particular piano. The gossamer yodel of the Minuet's Trio is presented in the most fragile of pianissimos.

After interval, Spain calls. Granados' Valses poeticos waltzes us agreeably around the salon and, from Albeniz's Iberia, Hough evokes the moody middle-voiced obsessions of Evocation before throwing himself into the heady virtuosics of Triana.

A French set finds a key-melting Alborada del Gracioso by Ravel more effective than two Debussy selections, which need a few more degrees of insinuation to enchant as they should.

Godowsky's scrumptious transcription of Albeniz's Tango and a feverish Caprice Espagnol by Moszkowski take us gracefully back to the salon.

Encores are generous. First up is a Serenata by Moszkowski, a more delicate salon bloom; next, Hough's own Osmanthus Romp, a delightfully flashy piece of modernistic ragtime. Returning with an upraised finger, as if to warn us that we were only getting one more sweetie, Hough charms us on our way with Mompou's Secreto.