8 1GT Wednesday September 16 2020 | the times
arts
A
s halls tentatively
reopen their doors,
and musicians
who were cooped
up without live
audiences for
months are once
again able to see a
real crowd, one thing that’s clear is
how different the concert atmosphere
has become. Last week I was one of
12 in the hall to hear Simon Rattle
conduct the London Symphony
Orchestra. It’s an experience that
makes you, the listener, virtually
part of the performance.
One person not rueing the loss of a
big crowd is Igor Levit. The star pianist
is buzzing with excitement as he
releases an album that was born out
of his lockdown months and prepares
for a recital at the newly reopened
Wigmore Hall today. The 33-year-old
Berliner, whose family emigrated from
Russia to Germany when he was eight,
was one of the stars of this year’s
salvaged Salzburg Festival, where he
was able to play a complete Beethoven
sonata cycle to distanced audiences.
“And many people in the audience
did something I’d been dreaming
about for years and years, which is to
actually see their own importance,” he
tells me from his flat in the centre of
the German capital. “Every single gig
became very tender, very focused. For
three weeks I’d been playing all these
sonatas, a lot of repertoire in a short
period of time. But there wasn’t a
single day that I was tired. It felt like
I was playing from home.”
Levit is certainly now used to
performing from home. In fact, even
though on my computer screen I can
see an old pair of Levit’s socks on his
sofa, I am zooming one of the most
visited concert halls in Europe,
at least during the past six months.
On March 12, the day after lockdown
in Germany, Levit ran out to a local
electronics shop, bought some kit
and started streaming via Twitter.
“Let’s bring the house concert into
the 21st century,” he said before the
first performance. He continued for
another 51 concerts, without a day’s
break. For one night he left his flat
and broadcast from the official
residence of the president of Germany,
Frank-Walter Steinmeier, at
Steinmeier’s invitation.
“It wasn’t an act of panic,” Levit says
about the house concerts. “I was
playing from a platform where I have
built a certain trust.” (Levit has more
than 100,000 followers on Twitter, a
figure that has been rising dramatically
since he promised to play an entire
piano reduction of Wagner’s Die
Walküre if he hit 150,000). “What really
blew me away was how many people
would listen every night. The average
was between 20,000 and 30,000.”
He avoided all other music online
during lockdown, with an exception
made for Yo-Yo Ma’s Songs of Comfort
series. Yet Levit’s agenda was different.
“My intention was not to comfort. My
intention was also not to show anger.
All I wanted was to be very frank, just
to play whatever I thought was right.”
His programmes included Bach,
Beethoven, Schubert, Henry Mancini,
Nina Simone and Janis Ian. “And what
I realised over the time of this entire
period is that I was basically living my
dream. No musical hierarchies, no
discussions about what is good
repertoire and bad repertoire.”
After he played Morton Feldman’s
challengingly austere Palais de Mari
Levit received a letter from one
listener. “He said that the piece
created a space for a kind of self-
encounter. I like this idea.” From this
lofty conception was born a typically
invigorating new album, Encounter,
which features the Feldman alongside
Every
single gig
became
very
tender
other prayerful works that had
appeared in those months, including
Brahms and Bach chorale preludes
virtuosically arranged by Busoni.
After 52 house concerts Levit called
a halt. Still, he saved one more feat
for his online audience at the end of
May, streaming Eric Satie’s Vexations
— a piece in which the composer
instructed that just four enigmatic
lines of music were to be played 840
times. Possibly Satie never meant
anyone to do it. With a few toilet
breaks, Levit dispatched the whole
thing in 15 hours, finishing at 5.
on a Sunday morning. Each identical
phrase was printed out on 840 pieces
of paper, which Levit threw on the
floor around him as he continued. He
has raised €25,000 for out-of-work
musicians by auctioning the pages.
It wasn’t a gimmick. “From now on,
if you stream, you shouldn’t just copy-
paste normal programmes and stream
them. What’s the reason to stream
something? The Satie felt perfect, first
of all because of the monotony, the
senselessness. Secondly, whenever
people criticise streaming, they always
say, ‘Oh, but the focus of listeners is
so short, they will only listen for two
minutes.’ Well, the Satie is two
minutes long, so in a way it’s an
incredibly democratic experience.”
When Levit left the keyboard in the
small hours, he was “next-level high”.
He took a friend for breakfast. “By
midday I was kind of drunk.”
There is no filter on Levit’s Twitter.
The social network, he concedes, can
be “a dumpster place, an awful place.
I try to be a good guy there, to do my
stuff. I play music, I make my jokes,
I attack certain people from the
political... let’s call it the political
asshole side. I am who I am.”
Levit’s ire over the past few years
has been focused against what he
believes is an emboldened extreme
right-wing movement in Germany
that rallies under the banner of the
AfD (Alternative für Deutschland).
The vast majority in Germany are not
such extremists, he says, “but it is the
weakness of the majority that creates
the strength of the extreme right. And
we have neo-fascists on the street and
a neo-fascist party in parliament.”
His campaigns on the subject have
led to death threats, which briefly
resulted in him needing police
protection. Is he scared? “If someone
wants to threaten me, go ahead,” he
says. “I won’t change my way of life
and, sorry to the London Times for my
language, but here’s the message to
these people: f*** off. F*** them.”
Who was responsible for the threats?
“Neo-Nazis, who realise that today
you need nothing more than to
press down on the phone to ruin
someone’s life.”
Levit argues that this is the real
“cancel culture” and that conservative
fears about anxious snowflakes
completely miss the point. “There are
animals from the extreme right who
can shut people up, threaten people’s
lives. If you want to talk about cancel
culture, let’s talk about that. And not
about the fact that some old dudes are
getting offended because we want to
take some statues down.”
We’ve strayed quite far from the
genteel Wigmore Hall. Levit was
supposed to have reprised his full
sonata cycle at the London venue in
this Beethoven year. He is not exactly
in mourning for the 2020 Beethoven
celebrations that never happened.
“Every single year, as you know, is a
Beethoven year.” His concert, which
will also be streamed, is a programme
hinged around the Waldstein Sonata,
a work that he calls “the piece of no
return. There is no Lisztian piano
world without Waldstein, there is no
Hammerklavier, no Appassionata
Sonata without Waldstein. There’s a
piano music reality before and after.”
If Levit has his way, there may be
a new music reality coming after
Covid too. Other musicians may be
less optimistic about a future where
concert halls can’t balance the books
and fees plummet, but this is not
something Levit dwells on. “Audiences
have become an essential part of the
story. Not only because of whether
there are 100, 50 or 20 of them, but
because people have actually started
asking, ‘Well, how did you feel about
that, what you just heard?’ Honestly,
to hell with corona; if only this will
remain when things get back to
normal, I would be beyond happy.”
Encounter is out on
Sony Classical. Igor
Levit plays at the
Wigmore Hall in
London today (7.30pm),
available on demand
for one month
(wigmore-hall.org.uk)
The pianist Igor Levit has been tweeting his solo performances
ROBBIE LAWRENCE; BORIS FROMAGEOT
‘What blew
me away was
how many
would listen’
Pianist Igor Levit tells Neil Fisher
about streaming concerts from
home and his fight with the far right Igor Levit