Llŷr Williams - piano

Llyr Williams Herald Scotland, August 26 2011
Williams is a master of soft tone, and the largo of Op 7 contained plenty of that. He also relishes Beethoven’s eccentricities, while tending to look eccentric himself, and this served the F sharp major in good stead. His has been a fascinating exploration of the sonatas, and of what they mean to us today.

Guardian.co.uk / The Observer, August 21 2011
Fiona Maddocks

I heard three of Llŷr Williams's complete Beethoven piano sonatas recitals at Greyfriars kirk, each yet better than the last. As inward and serious as Melvyn Tan is outgoing and smiling, Williams communes with the piano as if seeking new layers in a palimpsest. The results, as in the Op 10 set last Monday, can be revelatory.

The Financial Times, August 14 2011
Andrew Clark

The real creativity takes place on the Fringe, which this year features an unexpectedly vibrant classical offering, headed by Greyfriars Kirk’s cycle of the complete Beethoven piano sonatas and string quartets. Llyr Williams’s titanic traversal of the Beethoven Op 109 Sonata on Saturday had “festival experience” written over it in letters 10 times as big as the standard symphonic programmes we are promised during the next three weeks.

Seen and Heard International, August 13 2011
Simon Thompson

Williams’ gift is to inhabit Beethoven’s writing and take it to the nth degree of intensity. I don’t think I’ve ever heard the opening chords of the Pathetique sonata sound so granite-like and menacing and throughout the evening he constantly forced the listener to reassess their impressions of these familiar works. The opening of Op. 2, No. 1, for example, felt jaunty and angular before turning into something dark and brooding in the development, and the fistfuls of notes in the finale were electrifying. No-one new to this work would have guessed that this was Beethoven’s first published sonata: in Williams’ hands it felt like a work of staggering maturity and scale.

The Herald, November 26 2010
Michael Tumelty

His performance was near-miraculous; and there were very clear reasons behind its towering success. His intellectual command was reflected in the structural integrity of his interpretation, from the unhurried majesty of the opening, the compactness of the Scherzo and the colossal profundity he revealed in the slow movement, which appeared to last for an eternity, to the nimbleness and agility with which he negotiated the terrifying polyphony of the finale... His first half performance of the opus 90 Sonata was another miracle, of velvety Schubertian lyricism, with the melody elevated almost to a state of grace; while the great opus 101 A major Sonata was delivered as a perfect unity.

The Herald, May 14 2010
Michael Tumelty

All four of the sonatas that Williams (inset) played so brilliantly, so clearly and so idiomatically are extremely well known: the opus 26 in A flat, the Moonlight, the Pastoral, and the G major Sonata opus 31 number 1. Each is quite different to the other and, as was evident in Williams’s searching performances, each challenges the boundaries of the piano sonata in its shape, its form, its structure and its continuity. Williams underlined the fact, through his compelling performances, that Beethoven wasn’t just writing a series of sonatas: he was actually driving a coach and horses through the concept of what a sonata might be in its form.

Glasgow Herald, April 15 2010
Rowena Smith

Some pianists would have opted for extrovert readings of these works in order to emphasise their differences, but Williams took the opposite approach. Nothing was overstated, the opening of op 7 unhurried despite the urgency of its motif, the peculiar wit of op 14 no 2, all strange syncopations and surprising disjunctions, approached with dry, gentle humour rather than treated as slapstick. The final sonata of the programme, B major opus 22, was the grandest of the set but although the scale here was greater, the writing more dramatic, Williams’s approach was poised and graceful.

The Herald, March 5 2010
Michael Tumelty

I believe that Welsh pianist Llyr Williams is one of the greatest of the modern day... In the immense variety across the four sonatas he played he demonstrated complete structural mastery. Within the complexities of the opening section of the Pathetique, he created an enormous breadth. Everything was unhurried, and the music just seemed to stretch its limbs, accommodating itself to the generous expanse of space created by the pianist.

The Herald, March 3 2010
By Peter Rutterford

Llŷr Williams shaped the sonata perfectly, with just the right amount of angst in the opening movement while maintaining the lyrical contrasts as the movement progressed. In the serene adagio he played with a wonderfully light touch, portraying the full emotional substance of the movement, while the spirited finale had all the youthful energy of the young composer. Here Williams demonstrated his immense technique, with rapid playing of the scalic passages yet always maintaining the lyrical qualities of the themes.

The Herald, February 2010
Michael Tumelty

On top of that, the sheer prophetic nature of much of his music gleamed in Williams’s super-articulate, passionate and intellectual performances, from hints of later Beethoven, harmonies that looked round the corner to Schubert, and even one astonishing passage in the Opus 2 C major Sonata, whose leaning notes and expressive sighs conjured the music of Schumann. In Beethoven, as represented by this magical musician, lies everything that followed.

Seen and Heard International, February 7 2010
Glyn Pursglove

The first of the three sonatas has claims to be the most immediately striking of the three. Its opening allegro was played by Williams with a persuasive and engaging energy (after a slightly tentative opening), in a performance which captured both the passion and the elegance which coexist in surprising complementarity in this movement, a complementarity expressed both by neat contrasts and by unexpected (yet, with the advantage of hindsight, altogether inevitable) reconciliations of diverse musical materials. Some pianists have perhaps made more of the drama of this fist movement, but Williams’s interpretation clarified structure and pattern with impressive lucidity. The ensuing adagio was an exercise in youthful nobility, which Williams invested with an attractive cantabile quality; here, again, he provided a model of structural clarity, not least in the way he phrased which the elaborated repetitions of the movement’s themes. The judgement of tempo here was persuasively impressive and the whole fused nobility with tenderness. The third movement had a well-considered sense of scale, avoiding the kind of inflation which performances on a modern grand can all too easily acquire in movements such as this. The interpretation of the closing prestissimo had real fire, imbued with a precipitous, stormy momentum, the triplet arpeggios of the closing coda played with gratifying conviction and facility… Llyr Williams is a pianist of very real quality. His greatest virtues, at present, relate to the firmness of his structural grasp and his sense of musical architecture, his capacity to put the music’s organising principles clearly before the ears and minds of his hearers, but never at the cost of the merely reductive.

Bournemouth Echo, 8 November, 2009
Mike Marsh

This was no ordinary recital and these were no ordinary musicians…the brilliance of Williams’ necessarily turbulent playing was thrilling.
(Chamber recital with cellist, Thomas Carroll, Bournemouth 7 November, 2009)

South Wales Argus, 9 September 2009
Nigel Jarrett

Williams was in hypnotic form…[he] wove delicate lines and embellishments with such a powerful feeling of spontaneity that the fiery virtuosity half way through was merely proof that yearning in music can be volatile. But it was in the central slow movement that the sense of ethereal detachment was most telling, Williams playing with such intensity and exploratory calm that to describe the experience as being in the presence of greatness was no exaggeration.
(Chopin Second Piano Concerto, Sinfonia Cymru, Newport, 7 September 2009)

Lucid Culture, 7 March 2009
Being what it is, the Carnegie Hall complex has seen thousands of legendary debut performances. This was one of them. Welsh pianist, Llŷr Williams, has such command of the keyboard that he seems to inhabit what he plays. There are thousands of hotshot pianists out there, few with Williams’ seemingly intuitive sensitivity to dynamics and emotional content coupled to a spectacular technical fluency. Throughout a program matching subtlety to fire, he came across as ideally suited to play the Romantics.
(Carnegie Hall recital debut 6 March 2009)

The Guardian, 5 March 2009
Andrew Clements

Llŷr Williams is so firmly established in the top echelon of British pianists that it was a surprise to discover this recital marked his debut in the Wigmore Hall’s piano series. Even in such a contrasted programme, the basic musical principles remained the same. Williams’s playing is unfussy and uncompromising. His approach to Schubert’s C minor Sonata D958 had an almost Beethovenesque gruffness, though every line was beautifully shaped and every texture crystalline. Debussy’s Estampes had a similar clarity; there was nothing wishy-washy about this brand of musical impressionism.
(Wigmore Hall 1 March 2009)

The Guardian, 27 January 2009
Rian Evans

[Yang and] Williams achieved an expressive range that made their performance immensely rewarding… Yet, given the infinite care with which both singer and pianist shaped their phrases, in addition to the variety of tonal colours Yang could suggest with his voice and Williams in his playing, both the Schubert and Brahms songs had a devastating impact…Williams, with his natural pianism, matched him every in of the way.
(Hoddinnott Hall, Cardiff with Sheng Yang, 25 January 2009)

The Guardian, 6 January 2009
Tim Ashley

Williams is an exceptional Mendelssohn interpreter - sensitive, astute and incisive. He gives us insights into the composer's strengths and flaws. Songs Without Words is a title regularly, if inauthentically, applied to a lot of his piano pieces, many of which consist of extended right-hand melodies underpinned by figured left-hand accompaniments. Within such parameters, the stylistic, harmonic and expressive range is striking. Yet you also notice the levels of emotional safety that characterise this music; Mendelssohn is always sincere, but never extreme.
(Mendelssohn Songs Without Words at the Wigmore Hall, 5 January 2009)

The Times, 6 January 2009
Hilary Finch

Llŷr Williams proved himself the champion par excellence. He took the music at face value, neither embarrassed by nor archly self-conscious of its drawing-room warmth and sentiment. His intuitive pacing and robust articulation of the Hunting Song created an irresistible vignette; and his Venetian Gondala Song, dark and stark, looked ahead to the Venice of Liszt.
(Mendelssohn Songs Without Words at the Wigmore Hall, 5 January 2009)

Borletti-Buitoni Trust European tour – November 2008
The Guardian, 10 November 2008
Andrew Clements

Pianist Llŷr Williams is part of this select touring group, too, and before the Messiaen he partnered Kim and Fröst in a brilliantly incisive account of Bartók's Contrasts, which more than made up in spiky precision what it occasionally lacked in rustic abandon. Williams had preceded that with the two versions of Liszt's extraordinary La Lugubre Gondola, perfectly focusing their raw-edged intensity, and maintaining seamless continuity even when the music collapsed into a bare, haunted melody.

The Independent, 11 November 2008
Michael Church

Llŷr Williams played Liszt’s La Lugubre Gondola in its first and second versions. The title reflects the circumstances of its composition, as Liszt contemplated Wagner’s death in Venice while brooding on his own. Williams’s touch was firm in the rocking undertow of the first version; in the second, he emerged as a fastidious painter in sound.

East Neuk Festival, Scotland, 3-5 July 2008
The Telegraph, 10 July 2008
Ivan Hewitt

One high point came in the small, white, sturdily beautiful Crail church, perched right above a rocky beach. Here pianist Llŷr Williams, violinist Alexander Janiczek and cellist David Watkin gave a performance of Mendelssohn's D minor Trio that was almost ideal in its lightness and lyric grace. Williams was the festival's "pianist in residence", and over five days we discovered just how capaciously musical this shy and somewhat awkward young Welshman is. In the same church, he made the nostalgically sad piano miniatures of Janácek's On an Overgrown Path seem especially heart-breaking, smiling to himself as he moulded each stammering phrase as if it contained a special message for him alone.

The Times, 9 July 2008
Neil Fisher

For many, this will have been the year of the Welsh pianist with wizardry at his fingertips, Llŷr Williams. Solo, his Janácek (On an Overgrown Path) brimmed with tears and anguish, while his Schubert (the terrifying Sonata in A Minor, D784) was ferociously compelling. But he was as affecting with Alexander Janiczek and David Watkin for a warmly vigorous rendition of Mendelssohn’s Piano Trio in D Minor.

The Scotsman, 5 July 2008
Kenneth Walton
*****

In this tough coupling of Debussy’s three Estampes and Chopin’s Four Ballades – part of the festival’s Romantic Dream series – there was nothing surprising about his technical accomplishment, elemental in its steely precision. More noticeable, though, was a new-found warmth, a fresh dimension to the previously intense and introverted Williams. The intensity was still there – the crunching extremes of mood and pace in the Chopin, the tonal dexterity in drawing out the mercurial textures of the Debussy. But what of those smiles sweeping across Williams’ usually clenched jaw, translating into repeated moments of ravishing passion and insight?

The Herald, 7 July 2008
Rowena Smith

…though I missed pianist Llŷr Williams playing Chopin Ballades and Schubert's A minor Sonata (a programme that many singled out as their highlight of the festival), it was still possible to hear him later in the weekend. In a real curiosity programme - the sort of thing that can only happen in a festival - Williams had collaborated with Richard Holloway on a programme of words and music: seascapes from Virginia Woolf's novel, The Sea, interspersed with Debussy Preludes. The seascapes trace the passing of the hours of the day, and with them perhaps life; around them Williams wove his own atmospheric journey through the Preludes, from the grandeur of La Cathedrale Engloutie to the mischievous La danse de Puck and the mysterious Ondine.
The result was something of an extended meditation, low key but imbued with a dream-like quality through the combination of Williams's delicately precise playing and Holloway's distinctive, charismatic voice.

Borletti-Buitoni Trust US tour – May 2008
Kalamazoo Gazette, 14 May 2008
C.J. Gianakaris

Williams opened with a solo rendition of Liszt’s late work ‘La Lugubre Gondola’, S.200. By this point in his career, Liszt was writing less key-oriented compositions and more pieces that sounded atonal, and Williams emphasized that directionless quality. Williams moved from pianissimos to grand fortes with ease – along with ornate gestures of the hand and fingers.

The Philadelphia Inquirer, 17 May 2008
Lesley Valdes

Williams opened with the somber piano solo Liszt began in 1882, the year before he died. La Lugubre Gondola is atypical, spare, with harmonic and melodic dislocations. Some joked that La Lugubre was lugubrious, but young Williams – tall, lean and jacketless with 1950s specs – played with a bright, earnest, penetrating tone. As he played, one could imagine the composer dissolving the boundaries between sharps and flats, and maybe between life and what comes after.

The New York Sun, 19 May 2008
Fred Kirshnit

Mr Williams produced a stately performance, holding individual notes poetically and grandiosely, allowing time for the thoughtful and the cathartic. Even the spaces between the notes breathed the air of profundity.

The Herald, 8 February 2008
Rowena Smith

Williams … is a thoroughly mercurial pianist; an original who has the ability to present familiar works in a new yet convincing light. …The opening movement of the D major Piano Sonata, Op.10 No.3, was another study in exuberance. Here, though, the slow movement carries most weight, and Williams held the attention with playing of the utmost simplicity.
(‘Beethoven before he was 30’ at Perth Concert Hall, 4 February 2008)

The Herald, 5 December 2007
Michael Tumelty

One of the zaniest-titled concert series in Scotland might just prove one of the most illuminating. Featuring violinist Alexander Janiczek and pianist Llŷr Williams, the series is
founded on an intriguing hypothesis: if Beethoven had died by his 30th birthday, in 1800, what would his legacy have been? … Janiczek and Williams played two of the violin sonatas, the A major op12 no2 and the A minor op23, underlining as they did so the phenomenal originality and variety of Beethoven’s invention, even at an early stage of his career… Wit, playfulness, extroversion, introspection, energy, attack, exuberance, vital drama and streams of melodious lyricism paraded across Perth’s fine auditorium. …In between the violin sonatas, the extraordinary Williams played the Op10 C minor Piano Sonata, a warhorse for capable students who like to flex muscle and strut their athleticism. The super-intelligent Williams went the other way in a statesman-like interpretation with a second movement that, one realised, was years ahead of its time. Fascinating.

The Herald, 2 October 2007
Rowena Smith

The first concert of the "Beethoven before he was 30" series included the first and third piano and violin sonatas of the composer's opus 12, works in which the violinist has the opportunity to display considerable brilliance even if it is the pianist that leads. Williams and [Alexander] Janiczek make an excellent pairing in this repertoire, the former providing the support while at the same time weaving silvery, mercurial lines around the latter's muscular, solidly Viennese playing. … Between the two Op 12 sonatas, Williams played Beethoven's early piano Op 10, No 2 in F major, written to showcase the composer's talents, and here showcasing Williams's in a joyous combination of virtuosity and delicacy.
(‘Beethoven before he was 30’ at Perth Concert Hall, 1 October 2007)

The Herald, 2 August 2007
Rowena Smith

Technical brilliance was there in abundance in Williams’s performance, as you would expect from such an accomplished young pianist, but more impressive still was the sheer range of expression and the individuality of the performance, particularly visible in the hymn-like tranquility of the slow movement.
(Brahms Piano Sonata No3, St Mary’s Haddington)

The Times, 4 April 2007
Hilary Finch

…one of the truly great musicians of our time. … Those with ears to hear will have followed Williams’s playing as it has grown ever more secure and expansive. The hallmark of his Schumann Fantasy was its rare ability to take us deep into a very private world of dream, while at the same time creating a generously projected and truly virtuoso performance.
(Wigmore Hall recital, Schumann-Schubert)

The Spectator, September 2006
Michael Tanner

He has a beguilingly casual, almost conspiratorial approach to giving a recital, but from the moment he delivered the stunning opening chord of this supreme sonata he commanded the most serious and strenuous attention. The slow movement, delivered with great breadth and flexibility, had that hypnotic quality which only Gilels, Richter, Pollini have previously given me in live performances. The Fugue was demonic to the point of lunacy, as it should be. This was Beethoven at the end of his tether.
(Usher Hall, Edinburgh, 1 September 2006, Beethoven Hammerklavier Sonata)

The Herald, 4 September 2006
Michael Tumelty

From the magisterial opening, Williams was off on his own course. It was more poetic than rhetorical, more persuasive than assertive, more reasoned than polemical. And everywhere there was Schubert, in the clarity of line, in the lightness of rhythm and in the colouristic sensitivity to harmonic changes. … In his vast performance of the slow movement, and the racking-up of tension, there was remorseless focus.
(Hammerklavier Sonata, Usher Hall)

The Times, 28 August 2006
Hilary Finch

…pianist Llŷr Williams … gave a thrillingly life-enhancing performance of Beethoven’s Third Piano Concerto. With the [Minnesota] orchestra halfway through recording all the Beethoven symphonies, they were in fine fettle to respond to Williams’s characteristically beautifully shaped and articulated playing.