From January to June of 1993 Nikolai Demidenko gave monthly recitals at the Wigmore Hall under the umbrella title of Piano Masterworks. His selection ranged fearlessly and enterprisingly through the widest range of material (C. P. E. Bach, Vorisek, Alkan, Berg, Gubaidulina and Messiaen as well as Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert, Chopin, Schumann and Liszt) confirming his reputation as among the most versatile, dazzling and acute pianists now before the public. Fortunately, Hyperion were on hand to record all six recitals and their two-disc selection is a special salute or tribute to their star pianist.
All these performances are a marvel of the most concentrated pianism, musical thought and emotion. Demidenko's Haydn Variations—very slow, very laden—are presented with a crystalline drama and focus, quite without the self-conscious perversity of, say, Pletnev's Virgin recording (11/89—nla). His evocation of the light, fluttering action of a period instrument at 13'47'' is one of many illuminating touches and his Scarlatti, too, is of pinpoint delicacy and precision. Vorisek's Fantasia, like his B flat minor Sonata, crackles with the sort of pianistic intricacy that suits Demidenko perfectly, yet he is no less at home in the Belliniesque flow of melody in Kalkbrenner's A flat Nocturne (a more innovative composer than a contemporary's description of his piano playing—''as polished as a billiard ball''—suggests). Demidenko's Schubert ripples with a virtuosity unknown to most established Schubertians and while, arguably, without the lyric grace of a Lupu or Perahia, has a validity, an impeccable balance of strength and gentleness all its own. There is a special sympathy, too, for Liszt's ready response to Beethoven's lofty spiritual idealism (for Liszt Beethoven's work was ''like the pillar of cloud and fire which guided the Israelites through the desert'') while Mendelssohn's ultra-demanding F sharp minor Fantasy blazes with an incandescent verve and brilliance; a thrilling mix of abandon and control. Yet in the final resort Demidenko's greatest success is arguably in modern and contemporary works; in Berg and Gubaidulina. You won't often hear a more savagely committed performance of Berg's Angst-ridden Sonata where Demidenko's textural clarity and variety are revelatory, a product of his transcendental, all-Russian training.
Nikolai Demidenko is, indeed, ''Live at Wigmore Hall'', his darkly questing and powerfully individual mind evident in every phrase and bar. And, as a final corollary, Hyperion's sound and presentation are fully equal to a very special musical occasion.'