Taboo breaker

Pianist Gabriela Montero challenges classical music tradition by improvising during her performances. (Big Life Management)

At a masked soiree in the film Amadeus, Tom Hulce’s Mozart memorably improvises in the styles of his peers, mocking them playfully on a harpsichord. This party trick demonstrated the composer’s genius and musical agility. Improvising at the keyboard was once a fairly common skill among classical musicians — Mozart and Beethoven were both legendary improvisers. Today, it’s mostly gone from the classical ethos, along with other attractive accoutrements like swords and powdered hairpieces. Technology and fashion are to blame for the passing of rapiers and wigs — but why did improvisation disappear?

“Beethoven was a revolutionary, and if he saw how narrow and categorical the classical world is today, he would have probably thought it’s ridiculous,” says Venezuelan pianist Gabriela Montero.

Indeed, there used to be more chaos and inspiration when the industry was full of mavericks. But in the 20th century, the classical world became less swashbuckling and more bureaucratic. It was swamped with historians who charted how exactly Mozart’s pieces should be played differently from Bach’s. Authenticity became a craze that meant distinct playing methods for nearly every famous composer. Performances were supposed to reflect the composer’s epoch, rather than the performer’s.

Montero’s three discs for the EMI Classics label — Piano Recital (2005), Bach and Beyond (2006) and this year’s Baroque — emphasize a different idea. She improvises over the themes of Bach and other baroque masters. No classical niche exists for this approach.

Montero, 37, was born in Caracas. She and her family moved to Miami when she was 11. At 19, she won a scholarship to study in London, and began slugging it out on the concert stage when she was 21. Back then, she didn’t improvise publicly, because it simply wasn’t done. As Julliard piano instructor David Dubal told the Associated Press, “You can’t waste your time screwing around on the piano and having fun. The two things that you need [are] discipline and concentration. It can take 15 years to play one piece well, and then it will crumble.”

(EMI Music Canada)

Montero was “announced” as a major player in 2002, when Marta Argerich — classical music’s Audrey Hepburn — labeled Montero a “unique artist” after hearing the younger pianist improvise. “Before Marta talked about my playing,” says Montero during a recent interview, “I always kept my improv side locked away, as if there was a sign on the door that led to the improvising side inside me, saying ‘Keep out.’”

Perhaps the buzz was slow to start because Montero challenged classical music’s professional infrastructure. Classical musicians today have to be quite specific in their artistic identity to be recognized within the market, where improvisation is a non-starter; audiences usually go to classical shows to hear specific compositions performed a specific way.

Classical musicians mostly play the canonic mainstays, from Mozart to Mahler, from the late-18th to the early-20th century. Early music specialists try to perform the pre-Mozart material better, though these specialists (or “period” musicians) are often not as good as the mainstream players. They generally get paid less. The same is true for the 20th century’s avant-garde scene. Luckily, great period ensembles and soloists still exist, at both ends of the spectrum.

Montero’s touch is an assuring legato, smooth and effortless, and when she starts improvising over a Bach theme, even professional critics can be fooled into thinking they’re hearing an actual score. Most of her extemporizations seem mapped out instead of made up on the spot. Her ability to emulate the idiom of Bach, Haydn, Schubert, Chopin and others is chameleon-like and eerily effective. The result is a sly beauty.

To appreciate Montero’s artistry, simply listen to her recordings — after an hour or two, her improv style becomes evident. Her rendition of the famous Toccata in D minor begins note-for-note, and then veers off in uncharted directions; the music becomes non-Bach, and festively South American, before the listener even notices the change. In Beyond Bach, Montero riffs prettily over a Bach-sounding theme she accompanies with a baroque-ish, arpeggiating keyboard texture. It would require an archival knowledge of Bach’s music to know Montero’s performance is only inspired by the great master rather than actually penned by him.

“If I have a message as an artist,” says Montero, “it’s that we need the freedom to not be punished for experimentation.” Her disposition is youthful and festive, but she bears traces of a struggle she’d rather not dwell upon. Former teachers have been omitted from her biography.

Improvisation is subversive in an industry that is delicate; just as orchestras and opera houses are finally beginning to live up to their own business ends and generate their own revenue, improvisation tosses a fundamental rethink in among their marching orders.

“The classical world is now obsessed with what’s right and what’s wrong,” says Montero, “and yet it’s an artist’s duty is to challenge preconceptions. This is a contradiction."

“It’s impossible to please everybody, and that wouldn’t be desirable anyway,” she adds. “I’m not eccentric or self-destructive, but if you do what everyone expects, it just doesn’t work, because the excitement goes flat.”

Gabriela Montero plays Toronto’s Glenn Gould Studio on Nov. 16.

John Keillor is a writer based in Toronto.

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