Ólafsson brings rarefied artistry to Bach, Beethoven and Schubert
It has been a jam-packed weekend for pianophiles.
The three-week Van Cliburn Competition reached its climax Saturday night with Aristo Sham of China winning the Gold Medal.
And on Sunday afternoon, Víkingur Ólafsson returned to town, following his acclaimed Chicago debut of two years ago, and drawing a rare, near-capacity Symphony Center audience.
The Icelandic pianist is a singular artist of interpretive depth, luminous colors, and acute sensitivity. He has built an international following via his best-selling series of Deutsche Grammophon recordings, ranging from Bach and Rameau to Mozart, Debussy, and Philip Glass.
Sunday’s program, unusually for Ólafsson, concentrated on core German repertoire with sonatas by Beethoven and Schubert and a keyboard suite by Bach. Yet, as always with this artist, his unique presentation is as much a part of the event as his musicianship.
As he did in 2023, Ólafsson played the 90-minute program straight through with no intermission and barely a pause between works without ever getting up from the bench.
This concentrated presentation proved highly effective, making one meditate on the necessity (and wisdom) of traditional program conventions. Regardless, the unbroken span seemed too much to digest for some audience members who bailed early—perhaps getting lost amid the continuous 15 individual sections—and/or requiring applause breathers or rest breaks.
The pianist began the afternoon with Bach’s Prelude No. 9 in E major from Book I of The Well-Tempered Clavier. Rendered with great delicacy, this gentle introduction offered an ideal starting point, setting the program’s E major/minor tonal scheme and conveying a kind of “Once upon a time” atmosphere to begin the musical journey.
Ólafsson followed with the first of two late Beethoven sonatas, No. 27 in E minor, Op. 90, firmly contrasting the themes of the opening movement. The main motif of the second (and final) movement was ideally songful as Beethoven requests, segueing into rollicking affirmation before pulling back to a quiet, glowing coda.
The program’s dominant feeling was one of somber reflection, as evident by the centerpiece of Bach’s Partita No. 6 in E minor, the most inward of the set. Ólafsson, who closely observed repeats throughout, built the vast fugue of the opening Prelude into a staggering display of contrapuntal brilliance while maintaining striking clarity of line. A Bach player of great insight and sensitivity, he varied the dance inflections of the ensuing movements with subtle nuances and shifting tonal hues. Unfortunately, the hushed inward expression he brought to the Sarabande was broken by the loud clanging of a retro cellphone ring. That broke some of the spell before Ólafsson managed to recreate the previous hushed reverie in the repeat.
At the conclusion of the scheduled concert, Olafsson revealed that the idea behind the program was really “the birth of Schubert” and the Beethoven and Bach influences that went into his compositions, as manifest in the Piano Sonata in E minor, D. 566. If that intent wasn’t wholly apparent in the program’s trajectory or the sonata’s performance, this was idiomatic and superbly realized Schubert by any measure, dramatically taut with a cast of underlying tragedy that remained even through the cascading passages of the Allegretto.
And so on to the final work, Beethoven’s Sonata No. 30, Op. 109, coming full circle to the E Major that started the afternoon with the WTC Prelude. Ólafsson brought a fresh and guileless quality to the opening Vivace, qualities broken apart by the ensuing Prestissimo with its agitated sturm und drang.
Ólafsson played the hymn-like theme of the finale spaciously, distinctly characterizing the four variations while keeping an overall sense of elevation. The pianist closed the sonata—and the afternoon—with a reprise of Beethoven’s theme that was even more transporting, rendered with a benedictory glow that seemed imbued with consolatory transcendence.
The applause was long and loud, repeatedly bringing back the pianist, who affectionately patted the Steinway. Ólafsson had not spoken a word all afternoon but finally let his charming personality off the leash. “I love your city, I love your orchestra, and I love this piano!”
As inspired as the scheduled program had been, Ólafsson saved some of his best playing for the encores, each rendered with the finest of expressive and tonal shading. First was a stately and eloquent rendition of the Adagio from Bach’s Concerto in D Minor (after Marcello), BWV 974 (“Bach and not Bach,” as he called it), followed by a breezy rendition of Rameau’s rippling Dialogue of the Birds.
Ólafsson sent the assembled masses home with his own transcription of “The Arts and the Hours” from Rameau’s Les Boréades—the sublime melody rendered with an otherworldly expression that was all the more moving for its understatement.
Posted in Performances
4 Responses to “Ólafsson brings rarefied artistry to Bach, Beethoven and Schubert”
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Posted Jun 09, 2025 at 4:34 pm by Owen Youngman
Amen, and amen. Spellbinding performance. Grateful that you reviewed.
Pianophiles are now looking ahead to a jam-packed 2025-26 season, with 8 strong recitalists here at Symphony Center and another 5 artists at Northwestern—including the new Cliburn winner Sham plus Andsnes, Ohlsson, Hough, and Denk. (And we don’t yet know the lineup at the Gilmore Festival in Kalamazoo.)
Posted Jun 09, 2025 at 6:27 pm by Steve Berlin
Thank you for your review!. He is a gifted and daring young pianist. I was in the left lower balcony. Long-time patrons were leaving mid-concert. But not because he played his program without any breaks (which is idiosyncratic but fascinating—who doesn’t love idiosyncrasy if backed up by a deep sensibility like his?)–but because of a more mundane reason: a patron’s hearing aid was broken and hissing for the entire concert. It almost came to fisticuffs.
Anyway, mesmerizing performance still.
Posted Jun 12, 2025 at 6:51 am by Jeff R
The lower balcony left was a complete mess. It was the worst I’ve seen patrons since the return from the pandemic. Actually, it was the worst audience behavior I’ve seen since regularly attending for 15 years.
For almost the entire show, there was what sounded like a bird trapped in a vent somewhere high house right; I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a hearing aid… I thought that initially but the sound was akin to an injured/trapped bird.
Patrons talked, walked out, one patron was crazy belligerent with an usher. The usher got up and walked out… the patron was angry, cursing and acting erratic. It was nuts.
The music was absolutely beautiful and if you focused, the consistent chirping could blocked out. Olafsson is brilliant.
Posted Jun 13, 2025 at 12:29 am by Fred Simon
I’ve been a fervent fan of Víkingur Ólafsson since first hearing his masterful album of Johann Sebastian Bach. I own most of his albums, and love them all. I heard his Mozart concert in 2023, and of course nothing could have kept me from his concert last Sunday.
Simply stated, I’ve never heard a better pianist. To be sure, I’ve heard pianists of commensurate quality–including hearing Rubenstein, Horowitz, de Larrocha, Watts, Brendel, and Serkin in that same hall decades ago–but Ólafsson is their equal, no question.
I love his choices, including the nonstop flow of the program, communicating with subtle body language that we should hold our applause until the very end. That’s the way it should always be.
Not only did he love the piano (a Hamburg Steinway) as he said, but the piano loved him, too. He has a broader dynamic range between pianississimo and mezzoforte than many pianists have in their total range, and his touch is luminescent.
I assume, or at least hope, that he will be recording this repertoire, especially the Beethoven 109, which was nothing short of transcendent.