Lang Lang, Deconstructionism, and Original Intent

Is Lang Lang the quintessential “deconstructionist” pianist? A recent review of his new Goldberg Variations recording by NYT critic Anthony Tommasini may point in that direction, albeit without using that precise phrase. 

https://www.nytimes.com/2020/10/04/arts/music/lang-lang-bach-goldberg-variations.html

            “Mr. Lang, I think, does the equivalent of overacting in music; his expressivity tips over into exaggeration, even vulgarity. He has won ardent fans for the sheer brilliance and energy of his playing. But many also respond to moments of deep expression, when he sure seems to be doing something to the music, almost always reflected in his physical mannerisms…

Taste is, of course, a subjective thing. But there is reason to question Mr. Lang’s. Yes, a melody can be sung or played with expressive touches by bending a phrase, prolonging a note, delaying an entry. But even music that seems lyrically flowing, with melodic lines that spin and weave — like the slow movement of Bach’s “Italian” Concerto, or any Chopin nocturne — have an underlying structure, much like the underlying metrical structure of a poem. Even prose unfolds in clauses, sentences and paragraphs. The risk of stretching music — especially to the degree that a sense of pulse becomes weak — is that the shape of a phrase, a passage or an entire section becomes entirely lost in a profusion of expressivity.”

At the risk of setting up a couple of straw men, is it not improper to question Lang Lang’s artistic idiosyncrasies? He is, after all, presenting us with “his” truth, is he not? And to reference legal and literary theory, is not the score of a musical work a “living, breathing document” subject to the aesthetic instincts of the interpreter? Why, then, should we criticize his sincerely felt approaches to the great works?

Mr. Tommasini approaches, but does not quite name, the deconstructionist impulse which underlies the preceding statements. It is ironic that as progressive as the classical music industry may appear to be, there is a deeply conservative, essentially religious, impulse at its center. 

We have an instinct to center programs around a “canon” of great works, whose texts and interpretations are carefully taught and passed on through the oral and written tradition of acknowledged masters in the field (and usually performed in appropriate vestments). The system of competitions and conservatories, which produces almost all of our major classical musicians, is largely constructed to safeguard this tradition. Heresy comes in the form of transgressions against the received tradition – too much vibrato (or too little!), too much pedal (or too little!), ungainly accents, excessively slow or fast tempi, ornamentation of a Mozart sonata, etc. 

Enter Lang Lang. He is perhaps “the” superstar pianist of our time, and he is guilty of almost all of the “transgressions” listed above (save vibrato, unless one counts the interpretive dance he seems compelled to present at the piano). Yet, he is wildly popular, draws huge crowds and commands huge fees. He has singlehandedly inspired more young children to study piano than perhaps any other single person in history. 

But to what purpose?

Are we still listening to Bach, or are we listening to Lang Lang? Whose personality and creativity are at the forefront? This goes to the heart of the artistic question, particularly for a classical musician. Whose intent is predominant, the composer’s or the performer’s? Is it about me showing off my own ingenuity on stage, or is it about letting the composer’s work pass through me as if I am merely a conduit?

The uncomfortable reality is…both of these are true. The performer is just as much a part of the work as the composer, for if there was no performance, no translation of the notation into sound, the work would not truly exist. Yes, we can speak (and argue, endlessly!) about proper conventions of how Bach, Beethoven, Liszt, John Adams, etc. understood their notation to be interpreted, but there is no Platonic ideal of the Goldberg Variations (no, not even Gould’s 1981 recording). 

I do think one can stretch musical notation to the point where we no longer hear the originally intended proportions, but a sequence of notes (the same pitches, to be sure) sounded at the performer’s whim. Perhaps we could call Lang Lang’s approach “riffing” on the Goldbergs, sort of like taking a Shakespeare sonnet and turning it into slam poetry. 

In a sense, then, Lang Lang is the “un-classical” classical pianist. It might be useful to think of him as the Lady Gaga of classical music, always doing something unexpected, even grotesque, but with undeniable mastery of technique and undoubted sincerity. Maybe they’ll partner up on an album…wouldn’t that be something?