When a musical genius like Sir George Benjamin releases a new piece, the world takes notice. And his latest creation, Divisions (https://www.fabermusic.com/music/divisions), a four-hand piano masterpiece, is no exception. But here's where it gets fascinating: in just 15 minutes, Benjamin and his collaborator, the renowned Pierre-Laurent Aimard (https://pierrelaurentaimard.com/), manage to weave a tapestry of musical complexity and pianistic brilliance that leaves audiences in awe. Premiered in Berlin and now gracing UK stages, this piece is a testament to Benjamin's meticulous craftsmanship.
The heart of Divisions lies in the dynamic interplay between two pianists sharing a single instrument, as they navigate a labyrinth of shifting rhythms, dynamics, and effects. And this is the part most people miss: it's not just about the technical prowess, but the human connection between the players that elevates this work. From its mysterious opening to its delightfully ambiguous conclusion, the piece is a journey through moments of Ravel-esque fragility, powerful accents, and profound silences that feel almost otherworldly.
What makes Divisions truly remarkable is how Benjamin's innovative spirit merges with the organic dialogue between the performers, creating a sense of boundless possibility within its tightly structured framework. Unlike some critiques of Benjamin's work, which suggest a need for more 'breathing room' (as noted by Robin Holloway in his comprehensive Music's Odyssey (https://www.penguin.co.uk/books/276431/musics-odyssey-by-holloway-robin/9780241183014)), this piece feels perfectly balanced, leaving no room for such complaints.
The premiere of Divisions was the crowning glory of Aimard's already ambitious recital. He began with Nicolas Obouhow's (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nikolai_Obukhov) majestic Révélation (1915), a piece Aimard has passionately championed for its mystical modernism. This was followed by Pierre Boulez's revolutionary 1946 piano sonata, its toccata-like second movement delivered with electrifying energy.
But here's where it gets controversial: the stark contrast between Boulez's avant-garde intensity and Benjamin's Shadowlines (https://www.fabermusic.com/music/shadowlines-3839), a delicate set of canon-based pieces written for Aimard in 2001, highlights the vast spectrum of piano literature. Is one approach more valid than the other? The audience is left to ponder as the first half concludes.
After the intermission, Aimard's rendition of Ravel's Le Tombeau de Couperin (1917), a graceful homage to 18th-century France, showcased his versatility and cemented his status as one of today's most essential pianists. And this is the part that sparks debate: in an era of specialization, can a pianist truly master such diverse styles? Aimard's performance suggests a resounding yes, but what do you think? Share your thoughts in the comments—is versatility the pinnacle of pianistic achievement, or does it dilute artistic depth?
