Philadelphia Chamber Music Society presents pianist Leif Ove Andsnes

Andsnes devoted the first half of the program to the music of Norway, his home country. Edvard Grieg’s Piano Sonata in E Minor emerged with rich, Romantic phrasing in the outer movements, contrasted elegantly with refined playing in the Andante. Andsnes brought sparkling energy to the third-movement minuet, with each repeat sounding new and distinct. Grieg composed this sonata at 21, and it would be easy to dismiss it as a work of youthful frivolity, easily influenced by the fashions of the period. Andsnes skillfully made the case for its importance.

Virtuosic Tveitt

Although Grieg holds a vaunted place in the classical music canon, the music of Geirr Tveitt is less well known outside of Scandinavia. The composer’s Piano Sonata No. 29, “Sonata Etere” occupied the central slot on the program, and Andsnes performed the long, tricky work with a level of polish and commitment that spoke directly to its advocacy. It’s hard to imagine the Tveitt sonata becoming a concert staple—in part because there are likely few pianists who could match its level of virtuosity—but in Andsnes’s hands, it was an experience not soon forgotten.

Although there is no consensus on how many piano sonatas Tveitt actually wrote—much of his music was lost in a devastating house fire—there is a belief that the title Sonata No. 29, his only surviving work in the genre, might be something of an inside joke. The piece bears the same number as Beethoven’s massive Hammerklavier sonata, and the two works are similarly grand and challenging. But the style of Tveitt’s sonata bears influences that don’t necessarily call the great master to mind. Jazzy rhythms and playful dissonance suggest French orchestral music of the early 20th century—Tveitt studied in Paris and wrote the sonata in 1950—while the prominence of Indigenous folk tunes seem in the vein of Bartók and Ives.

After the impassioned opening movement, Andsnes dispatched an eerie set of variations in the second, setting forth spindly staccato notes and sustaining a haunted tone in the piano’s lower register. The final movement, titled Tempo di pulzazione (Pulsation time), hurtled inexorably toward a resolution that seemed slightly off-kilter. The Tveitt sonata is a work of big ideas, many of which don’t harmoniously adhere. Andsnes turned the piece into a musical monodrama, with constantly shifting moods.

Brilliant artistry and craft

Chopin’s 24 Preludes occupied the second half of the evening. When performed in sequence, these miniatures can appear wildly incongruous, requiring the pianist to alternate styles at breakneck speed. Andsnes excelled in both the quiet and ecstatic moments. The well-known pieces sounded fresh and invigorated: the E-Minor prelude carried more weight than usual, the long D-Flat Major section maintained a stringent narrative focus. Andsnes was perhaps best in muscular movements, like the C-Major and D-Minor preludes that open and close the series. Taken in total, it was a brilliant display of artistry and craft.

After several rounds of appreciative applause, Andsnes returned with one more prelude as his encore: a lilting account of Debussy’s La cathédrale engloutie, from the composer’s first book of preludes.