Sheep squirrel hill farmer artist me the boulder – our place in the sun I make

Sheep, squirrel, hill farmer, artist, me, the boulder – our place in the sun I make calculations as to who’ll be here longest. The answer is clear.In the meantime there are plenty more sheep-folds to explore further along the lane. I make a move.Andy Goldsworthy, ‘Sheepfolds’: map and information from Cumbrian County Council, Heritage Services Department (01228 607306).’Personal Delivery’, Duncan McLaren’s book on contemporary art, is out now from Quartet (pounds 12).. True genius exists beyond affection. You don’t have to like it: you just fall down on your knees and thank God it exists – which is roughly how I feel about the genius (no other word will do) of Evgeny Kissin’s recital at Wigmore Hall on Monday.

It was utterly extraordinary; not always likeable, but heavy with the sense – as Kissin’s concerts are – of being history as it happens. I could see myself boring imaginary grandchildren with old man’s memories of being there in ‘98. And meanwhile, I’ve spent the past few days carrying the imprint of his playing like a germ in my ear: a constant presence, ineradicable, worrying, uncomfortable. The discomfort was mostly because this was a small-hall recital given with a big-hall mentality. It’s not that Kissin is flamboyant on the platform – quite the opposite.

At 27, he still has the manner of a cruelly introverted child. But the intensity and fierceness of attack is startling; and, at the Wigmore, the result was like a lion let loose in someone’s sitting-room. It was a touch unnerving in a Chopin programme.
What we had were the 24 Preludes, the F-sharp major Barcarolle, and the B-flat minor Funeral March Sonata: all well-known, pop-repertory pieces. But Kissin’s readings challenge you to know them differently; and I’m not sure I was up to it in the Preludes, which encompassed rare extremeties of tempo and dynamic. There were times – in nos 3, 8 and 16 – where the pace was so fast that rhythm dissolved into texture, movement into semi-stasis.

Then there was the question of weight – which came by the kilo whenever he encountered a pesante marking. It contributed to the almost childlike quality with which he separated the voices in, say, no 9, to let you know (at volume) which had the tune.But having listed my complaints, I have to say that this was still among the most impressive live performances I’ve heard all year. Kissin plays so fast because he can, and with a brilliantly articulated elegance which takes your breath away His command of colour is dazzling. And for all the heaviness, he finds a true, spare pathos where it’s needed.