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Leon Fleisher performing Wednesday night in Ozawa Hall at Tanglewood in Lenox.
(Photo by Hilary Scott, courtesy of Boston Symphony Orchestra)
LENOX - The part played by the right hand in J.S. Bach's "Sheep May Safely Graze" from Cantata No. 208 has a simple, lilting melody. A child studying piano for a few years could probably play the right-hand part in this piece.
And yet, there was something magical listening to Leon Fleisher perform this work in the always dazzling Ozawa Hall at Tanglewood on Wednesday night. Ironically, Fleisher actually played a few wrong notes in the Bach Cantata. Normally, such mistakes detract from most performances. But in this instance, such minor imperfections gave the famous perfectionist's performance a more human touch. My wife even said during the intermission hearing Fleisher play the Bach piece brought tears to her eyes. My tears nearly came later in the performance but more on that in a bit.
What makes Fleisher so special? Partly, it's because even with a few false notes, Fleisher possesses an amazing ability to bring magnificent works brilliantly to life. There's also no denying the power of seeing this accomplished 86-year-old pianist play the Bach Cantata and other two-handed works that he could not perform for nearly four decades due to a rare medical condition that affected his right hand.
If you saw a movie about Fleisher's life, you probably wouldn't believe it. Phrases like "child prodigy" are frequently thrown around, but Fleisher genuinely was one. He studied with legendary pianist and teacher Artur Schnabel. At the age of 16, Fleisher made his New York Philharmonic debut as a soloist and was immediately hailed as "the pianistic find of the century."
Twently years later, in 1964, Fleisher could no longer play using his right hand.
"I was preparing for the most important tour of my life when I had a minor accident," Fleisher told The Independent newspaper of London in a 2010 interview. "I cut my thumb on a piece of cheap garden furniture and required a couple of stitches. When I started practising again, things didn't feel quite right on my right side. My fourth and fifth fingers seemed to want to curl under. I practised even harder, not listening to my body when, through pain, it warned me to stop. Things got progressively worse and in less than a year those two fingers were completely curved under, sticking into the palm of my hand. No way could I play the piano."
For years, Fleisher had no idea what was wrong. Eventually, he was diagnosed with focal dystonia, "a neurological condition that causes the fingers to curl into the palm of the hand," according to his biography on the Peabody Conservatory of Music website.
Fleisher has taught at the Peabody Conservatory in Baltimore for many years. He also became an accomplished conductor after losing the use of his right hand. But he never stopped performing, focusing instead on pieces written specifically for the left hand.
Three decades later, in the 1990s, Fleisher slowly regained the use of his right hand through experimental botox injections into his hand. Then in 2004, Fleisher recorded an album of solo piano music appropriately titled, "Two Hands," which is also the title of the 2006, Academy Award nominated documentary about Fleisher's life.
Leon Fleisher and Katherine Jacobson performing Wednesday night at Ozawa Hall at Tanglewood in Lenox.
One of the pieces on the 2004 recording is the same melodic piece by Bach that Fleisher opened Wednesday's concert with at Ozawa Hall. For years, I've listened to "Two Hands" and thought about how surreal it must have been for Fleisher to record pieces he loves and yet couldn't play for decades. Imagine not being able to read your favorite novel for years. Or not being able to see your favorite painting. Then suddenly, years later, there it is, right before your eyes for you to revel in and explore.
I was little nervous Wednesday when Fleisher played a few wrong notes during the Bach Cantata. I was afraid this might be a warning sign of more mistakes throughout the night. Listening, I thought, "Come on, Leon. You can do it!' Glancing around the concert hall, I'm sure that same thought was rattling around inside many other people's heads.
Fleisher must have heard the audience's thoughts. After the Bach piece, he played every single work to perfection. But more than anything, he seemed to play with true passion and joy Wednesday night. Every song seemed to magically flow out of his fingers through the piano and into the night air.
After performing the Bach piece, Fleisher performed two solo works by Debussy - the dramatic "La Puerta Del Vino" from Preludes, Book II and the sublime "Clair De Lune" from Suite Bergamasque.
Fleisher seemed to have a laser-like focus as he performed "La Puerta." Nothing was going to distract him. Not even the birds softly chirping outside the partially open air concert hall.
But it was Fleisher's haunting performance of "Clair De Lune" which hit me the hardest. Every single note seemed to tell story. A story filled with longing, hope, perhaps even a few regrets and notes of triumph. Listening and watching Fleisher's hands glide across the piano keys, I was spellbound. I put my notebook down and just let the notes wash over me, marveling at Fleisher's feather-like touch. Listening and watching, I nearly cried tears of joy.
The rest of the concert featured three pieces for four hands. Fleisher was joined on stage for those three works by accomplish pianist and fellow Peabody Conservatory instructor Katherine Jacobson, who also happens to be Fleisher's wife.
The first piece for four hands they performed together was Brahms, "Liebeslieder Waltzes," Op. 52a. With Fleisher seated to Jacobson's left, the pair played this unusual work, which sounds almost Chopin like at times with its striding chords, then like a Strauss waltz in other places. The ending of the piece seemed a bit abrupt. But what I remember most about this work was how perfectly in synch Fleisher and Jacobson were playing side by side at the piano.
After a brief intermission, Fleisher and Jacobson returned to play Schubert's "Fantasy in F minor," D.940. This terrific work has everything you could ask for in a piece of piano music - haunting melodies, intricate musical patterns and a sense that you're tapping straight into the composer's soul. Schubert wrote this work during the final year of his life and dedicated the piece to Karoline Esterhazy, one of Schubert's longtime students and reportedly an object of his unrequited love. You can hear the longing and sense of melancholy in this striking music, which Fleisher and Jacobson vividly brought to life.
The final work on the program was Ravel's "La Valse" for four hands. The piano seemed to rumble like an approaching thunderstorm as Fleisher played the opening low notes. This show-stopping work seemed to be a response to the piece that came before it on the program. It was as if Ravel was saying to Schubert, "You think that's amazing? Watch this."
This passionate, pulsating piece requires the two pianists to race their hands across the keyboard at a sometimes frenetic pace. At one point, I actually would not have been surprised if Fleisher had stood up on the piano bench or shouted out "Great Balls of Fire" like Jerry Lee Lewis. Instead, he and Jacobson remained focused and finished the piece on a high note on a night that everyone in the audience will always surely remember.
Watching and listening to Fleisher, you genuinely felt you were in the presence of someone who truly loves what he does and cherishes every single moment he has in front of the piano, whether he's playing with two hands, four or simply one.