on 14 October 2023

It was another delightful evening at Breinton. As the temperature dropped drastically from the strangely warm October weather we enjoyed until the day before, Breinton filled up with an enthusiastic audience and full-blown music performed by Welsh pianist Llŷr Williams.

Llŷr’s programme was diverse, showcasing various styles and genres, throwing in less-performed pieces alongside very well-known composers such as Chopin, Grieg and Liszt. From the beginning it was clear that Llŷr’s keyboard work was frighteningly precise, while his interpretation was profound and his expression had a communicative nature. This was a huge advantage for the listeners’ ears, as we enjoyed every note, chord and nuances that those exotic harmonies created throughout Bartok’s Romanian Dances. Llŷr portraited the heroic nationalism of Chopin’s Polonaise with a tremendous sweep and energy, in his own unapologetic interpretation, while retaining the poetry. Bartok’s Sonata turned into “a gigantic percussion” (as Llŷr described it); the thrill of the brutally uncompromising work was somewhat satisfying; this is the type of ‘rush’ you get only in a live environment!

Erotikon from Grieg’s Lyric Pieces, the first piece in the second half, was pure joy. It was a sparkling gem which Llŷr played with breathtakingly beautiful phrasing. It made a total contrast to the previously performed Bartok - it was heavenly. I was not familiar with Peter Warlock at all, but what beauty his Folk Song Preludes were. The serene yet idiosyncratic melodies and harmonies brought nostalgic and longing feeling. A complete change of mood came with two compositions by Albeniz, before the concert concluded with a hugely captivating performance of the fiendishly virtuosic Liszt Hungarian Rhapsody No 12, which drew in the audience completely.

It turns out Llŷr had no stage fright – he had this amazing ability to walk up on stage and perform confidently what he intended to convey to us, with an immense joy. And if he was articulate with his playing, so were his verbal comments. In between the pieces he inserted short introductions about the composers and works he was performing, in a typical non-nonsense Llŷr style, but very humorous and highly helpful for us to warm to the pieces. He is a hidden showman – perhaps born to be on stage.