Eduard Laurel is an international pianist who, by his own admission, ‘ became a slave to crack cocaine in his relative youth’. Clean for the past six years, he writes a blog that maintains scrutiny on the ever-slipping critical standards of the New York Times. He’s also just got around to the new, self-acclaimed Lang Lang/Simon Rattle release:
From the opening bars, what detracts from his bustling athleticism is his impetuous rhythm and erratic phrasing, his fast notes clumped together like locusts on the last ear of corn. Soon enough, Mr. Lang’s signature becomes apparent: willful, and comprehensible not as the efforts of an adolescent, but as a young child disciplined enough to control its tantrums. Perhaps this explains Sir Simon Rattle’s brittle, though enthusiastic, partnership.
It could be argued that Lang Lang has a technique of some brilliance, but this chronicler finds it a disgrace to his trainers and handlers that at this stage of his prodigious career he will likely continue with barely a nod to the decorum, civility, and propriety of this art we call fine, much less delve into matters of taste, tradition or aesthetics.
Agree? Dissent? Read on. You won’t be disappointed. Click here.