Strange as it may seem, but hearing Peter Moore open his recital with an adaptation of Beethoven’s ‘Horn Sonata in F major Op 17’ reminded me to re-read Neville Cardus writing about a test match innings by Donald Bradman at Leeds in 1934.

“He (Bradman) once again entered his own domain, conquered himself as well as the enemy, and conveyed his pleasures in spacious plenty. His genius was his good slave... the vitality of brain, blood and nerve; every part of it throbbed with a consciousness that was of the spirit.”

Stand alone

The Australian was 26 at the time - Moore is just 20: However, both are linked by their ability to stand alone from their peers in the application of their trade. 

What the future holds for a musician of Moore’s limitless talent is mind boggling: What we got to hear at the RNCM Theatre was a Bradmanesque masterclass. Cardus (also a noted music critic of The Guardian newspaper) would have been equally astounded.

Meaningful beauty

The technique on display was startling enough - as if hewn out of Carrara marble - but it was the artistry; the subtle changes of style, the nuanced phrasing, the tonal malleability and above all, the sheer certainty about the application of his musical intellect that left you breathless in admiration: He crafted every phrase into meaningful beauty.  

The ‘Sonata’ - played with such a perfectly focussed sound and soft-edged articulation was followed by the romantic lyricism of Stojowski’s ‘Fantasy in E major Op 27’ - flowing with unblemished liquidity.  The opening four notes of Mahler’s ‘Urlicht’ from ‘Das Knaben Wunderhorn’ were the closest we came to perfection all weekend - the rest of it not far behind; Duparc’s ‘Phidyle’ a stunning contrast of tempered, fragile emotion.

Capricious elan

Simon Dobson’s ‘On Solitude and Longing’ was darkly melancholic - a memory ‘shift’ as the composer described it to happier times, whilst the interpretation of Arthur Pryor’s sweet, ‘Le Petite Suzanne’ was a stunning display of capricious elan.  His simple encore brokered no argument.  

Good Days

This was as memorable an hour of solo artistry we have heard here: Even the appreciation of the acoustic and the way the projection of sound rather than volume lay at the heart of his delivery, was in a different sphere of musicality - aided throughout by the beautifully rendered piano accompaniment of Robert Thompson that was a joy to hear in itself. 

If you have the chance, seek out ‘Good Days’ by Neville Cardus at your local library - because those lucky enough to be here enjoyed nothing better themselves.

Iwan Fox