Hélène Grimaud: A Nuanced Pianist Between Passion and Poise
An evening of depth and refinement with the Camerata Salzburg at the Concertgebouw
“Do you like Brahms?” a very young Anthony Perkins shyly asks Ingrid Bergman in Goodbye Again, inviting her to a concert at Paris’s Salle Pleyel. A brief cinematic aside, which makes a fitting prelude to the monographic program that unfolded Monday evening in the Great Hall of the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam. Had I posed that same question to the audience as they exited the hall, I’m quite certain the response would have been unanimous: “Who wouldn’t?”
And who could blame them? How could one not be moved by impassioned masterpieces such as the Piano Concerto No. 1 in D minor, Op. 15, or the Serenade No. 1 in D major, Op. 11 by Johannes Brahms? Time, then, for answers. Answers given to the Concertgebouw audience by the Camerata Salzburg, led by conductor Giovanni Guzzo, and the nuanced pianism of Hélène Grimaud.
In the Piano Concerto No. 1 clear echoes of Schumann’s style run through the piece. The work breaks free from the conventions of its time for solo concerto, with piano and orchestra walking practically always hand in hand. The opening and exposition of the first movement’s theme, though initially hesitant with a few smudged notes, was delicate and whispered yet already carried the seed of the coming storm. Emotional chiaroscuro swept the French pianist into a “Maestoso” vortex, at times dark and brooding, at others radiant.
The central Adagio in D major offered a moment of calm before the storm a meditative interlude rich in expression and intensity, and the perfect opportunity for Grimaud to rest her hands, wrists, and forearms before launching into the final Rondò. This was delivered with just the right mix of vigor and triumphant euphoria. More than a concerto, it felt like a dense, monumental symphony, brimming with recurring themes and ideas dramatic, contemplative, and ethereal in turn. A complex, wondrous score from which the Camerata Salzburg and Grimaud emerged triumphant if not entirely unscathed.
A standing ovation, but no encore from Hélène Grimaud an artist of great subtlety, no doubt, but also a woman engaged on multiple fronts: human rights activist, passionate environmentalist, and a talented writer (Variations Sauvages offers vivid, spontaneous insight into her youth and struggles).
The second half offered a gentler Brahms in the Serenade No. 1. Calm, even noble, with a hint of 18th-century grace. Guzzo highlighted the elegant contrapuntal writing of the Allegro molto. From a soft pedal of open fifths in violas and cellos, a joyful theme leaps between horn and clarinet a bucolic, pastoral moment.
The Scherzo briefly recalled the concerto’s darker moods, but calm returned in the following Trio (winds notably excellent). The Menuetto combined courtly grace with opulence, closer to Haydn than Mozart. The final Rondò was a spirited dance almost begging for choreography; holographic images floated weightless in the Concertgebouw’s Great Hall. A performance of weight and wonder. Antonio D’Amato 16th June 2025
Photo by and © Mat Hennek
