Dreams of love, one after another.
Mostly introverted, detached from, indeed at times entirely lost to this world. Only occasionally does the frenzy break through; the full rage demands release. The virtuous becomes suddenly fervid, the quiet to and fro swaying of the soul transforms itself into a genuine hellfire. So are the 21 Nocturnes by Frédéric Chopin (which is to say, including those published posthumously), and in many moments they are so beautiful that one wants to do nothing else but take up residence in them for the span of one’s life. Especially when played so sensitively (yes: sensitively; there is no other word, no better one, none more fitting) as when by the Israeli pianist Amir Katz, sadly still not known to very many in this country. This should change overnight with this recording. This man possesses such a refinement of tone, such sense of touch, such finesse in his hands, his head and his heart that one can only kneel before so much delicacy, so much suppleness.
