EIF 26: Paul Lewis
Queen’s Hall, Edinburgh - 20/08/26
Paul Lewis (piano). Part of the Alfred Brendel (1931-2025) series.
A pleasingly full Queen’s Hall heard pianist Paul Lewis step forward to pay fulsome tribute to his teacher and mentor, Alfred Brendel. He did so with customary fluency and passion in a well-curated morning recital of classical and early Romantic works, blending Austro-German masters with Polish genius. Brendel, who remained a much-loved performer at the Edinburgh International Festival for 40 years, left a legacy that felt palpably present throughout. Yet, rather than offering an exercise in nostalgia, Lewis demonstrated why he is regarded as a musical heir to the late maestro in his own right.
His performance was defined by deeply considered interpretations of works for which he had no need of a score. They were ingrained technically and emotionally in every sinew and finger movement. The emotional core of the programme rested on Brendel’s profound affinity with Mozart—someone he once described as “one of the most sensuous composers ever”. Lewis honoured this connection with readings of two contrasting Mozart sonatas at the beginning and end of the recital.
In Sonata No. 17 in B-flat major, K. 570 (1789), he navigated subtle shifts with consummate skill, perfectly teasing out the mixture of wit and profundity that anticipates Mozart's final opera, The Magic Flute, two years later. Every phrase breathed naturally, eschewing superficial theatricality in favour of genuine architectural integrity.
After this substantial entrée, what followed was the third of Schubert’s Drei Klavierstücke, D. 946. These are late piano pieces written in 1828, six months before his death. Effectively a companion set to his famous Impromptus, they feature striking contrasts and rich melodies. The three works were edited and published anonymously by Brahms in 1868. Here, in the final one, Lewis needed to alternate between tender touch and tumbling cascades of notes. It was all wonderful. But he was particularly convincing in the moody and gorgeous allegretto. The finale was suitably furious, and ended with a loud foot-stomp.
The second half of the concert opened with miniature masterpieces from the pen and piano of Frédéric Chopin. Lewis showed a more intimate, romantic side to his playing in these works. His renditions of the heartfelt Deux Nocturnes, Op. 32 (1836) were hauntingly beautiful, framed by subtle rubato and exquisite tone colours, to which the impassioned Polonaise No. 1, Op.26 in C sharp minor (1836) provided a stirring, dynamic opening. He segued all three.
Concluding with Mozart’s well-known Sonata No. 13 in B-flat, K. 333 (1783), Lewis captured an abundance of song-like charm and high spirits across the 19-minute piece, striking a delicate balance between crisp classical clarity and expressive lyricism.
Throughout the recital, Paul Lewis showed how a musician can respect an “endless source of inspiration” (as he has described Brendel) while speaking clearly with his own authoritative voice.
