Over the course of the Easter weekend, the world of music lost two enormous virtuosos. Radu Lupu, a Romanian, and Nicholas Angelich, an American, were recognized for their aesthetic intuition and musical generosity, which enabled them to bring the audience to the brink of the indescribable. Radu Lupu and Nicholas Angelich were both born in Romania and raised in the United States.
 |
| Radu Lupu, Nicholas Angelich |
They both had brilliant careers, the first in their home country of Romania and the second in Cincinnati where his parents were both musicians before achieving international recognition through participation in prestigious international competitions. Radu Lupu was 76 when he died and Nicholas Angelich was 51 at the time of his death. However, the most important item is clearly absent. Although Nicholas Angelich, more than his father, did not hesitate to explore into complicated modern works like Messiaen, Boulez, and Mantovani, his tremendous technique did not enable him to do so. Both Angelichs are remembered as simple prodigies of conquering brilliance.
Passionate dialogue
What unifies these two exceptional musicians is their own personalities as well as their approach to appreciating music. Because they are both discrete, they are uncommon. The lung ailment that ultimately won the battle had kept the American pianist away from the stage since June 2021, but he had a packed performance itinerary at the time of his death. Having spent most of his time in our nation, he traversed the globe to deliver recitals or play concertos and chamber pieces, particularly with French performers such as the Capuçon brothers, with whom he collaborated on many occasions.
Angelich was a reclusive man who enjoyed nothing more than sharing music with others and engaged in the impassioned debates that his diverse cultural background enabled him to engage in. He was passionate and cultured, but he also had a lot of doubts, punctuating his arguments with "I don't know," despite the fact that he knew so much and never hesitated when it came to music. Standing at his keyboard, this strong guy transformed himself into the conductor of an imagined orchestra whose colors he delighted in intensifying, bringing the power to a roaring halt but also exposing the most minute subtleties with an unwavering commitment to precision and clarity. It was a masculine certainty when confronted with the orchestral fury of the concertos, but it was an unspeakably lyrical quality when he went through Brahms' late-night compositions for solo piano, which he did excellently for him and for the composer. The artist was then forced to confront himself and his own questions.
The Carpathian Bear
Radu Lupu's portrayal of the Carpathian bear was more evocative. he distiled his gigs in fits and starts, crossing the threshold of the recording studios with trepidation and anxiety. This obsessive recluse lived purely for music, and he practiced it exclusively on his own. Even if a few sonatas for violin and piano by Mozart or Debussy and concertos by Beethoven, Brahms, or Grieg remain in the record books, his stage performances were rare for a long time. However, his world, which included sound, mentality, and sensitivity, was so rich that it filled the whole audience.
The unfathomable subtlety with which he graded his playing, the boundaries of the perceptible beyond which he appeared to wish to take his audience, and the elegance with which he touched his audience are all things that will be remembered forever. He will have made Schubert one of his life mates, whose most inner thoughts he appeared to become, knowing the slightest confidences. Radu Lupu was a secretive but expressive pianist who will have made Schubert one of his life companions.