TOMÁŠ VRÁNA

The piano virtuoso Tomáš Vrána (*1994) is releasing Béla Bartók’s complete piano concertos recorded with the Janáček Philharmonic Ostrava and the Hungarian conductor Gábor Káli. We spoke with the young pianists just a few days before his eagerly anticipated Supraphon debut.

Bartók is often viewed as an uncompromising individualist, an architect of music, and a poet. How are these different aspects of his personality reflected in your interpretation?

These days, I think there are two predominant schools of thought among pianists on interpreting Bartók’s music. Unfortunately, the predominant view still remains that Bartók stands for a dry, coarse, even violent piano sound that has to be accepted as the composer’s aesthetic. On the other hand, a second group of performers is also trying to promote his lyrical side, something that is not at all lacking in his music. Personally, I think the truth lies in between—a sharply percussive sound is often effective, but after a while it leads to quite monotonous, dull playing. From the preserved recordings of Bartók’s own playing, one hears rather clearly that he played his own compositions quite romantically. He really does use lyricism as a contrast to dark, negative emotions. I also approach his works in this spirit; it is a music of contrasts, of white and black feelings that go together.

How did you prepare yourself to master such demanding repertoire?

In fact, I’ve already had Bartók’s three concertos in my repertoire for a rather long time. I have already performed the Third Concerto and the First Concerto with the Janáček Philharmonic in Ostrava, and I learned Bartók’s Second Piano Concerto to complete the master’s degree programme at the Academy of Performing Arts in Prague. So my preparations didn’t have to be all that intensive because I’ve had all three works in my fingers and in my memory constantly to some extent. The bulk of the work was about details or the concrete things in the piano part that I wanted to bring out, things I knew are not all that audible on other recordings.

Bartók’s Third Concerto is known for its peaceful, conciliatory atmosphere, while the first two concertos are full of energy and conflict. To which of those concertos do you feel closest as a performer, and why?

The Third Concerto is the most popular, of course, and musically it is the most pleasant for usual audiences. I also began with it, and it was to a degree my gateway to the world of Bartók’s piano music when I was still studying a the conservatoire. Still, his first two concertos are closer to my nature and are more special musically. The First Concerto in particular never ceases to fascinate me, and I’m always discovering something new in it. If the orchestra and the conductor are good, it’s incredibly fun to play to play, like a kind of “bad boy’s concerto”. There’s not much to compete with its character in other concertos. On the other hand, the thing that has always especially attracted me to the Second Concerto is the incredibly dark, slow second movement with the scherzo in the middle; I remember how it gave me goosebumps when I heard it for the first time.

Are you also planning concert performances of this repertoire?

I’d certainly like to very much, and in fact I’ve already given some successful concerts. For me, Bartók is truly a matter of the heart, and I’m always thrilled to play any one of his three concertos. He’s one of the few composers who empowers even the weak. It’s as if he’s saying through the music: “OK, I’ll give you the power, so go show what you can do… I’ll let you do things with the piano that others would not allow.” To me, playing Bartók always feels amazing. From what I’ve learned about him over the years, I think my temperament is close to his, and we would have seen many things eye to eye.