Seong-Jin Cho Dazzles With Two Hours of Ravel
Cho’s performance of Ravel’s solo piano repertoire leaves no doubt of his technical and musical prowess
Photo courtesy of Deutsche Grammophon
Maurice Ravel—Claude Debussy’s arguably less famous musical cousin—is a master of swirling harmonies that mimic the fluid, capricious nature of water; almost-melodies that pass between different voices and never seem to resolve; and grand, virtuosic sweeps that challenge even the most skilled pianists of our generation. Yet Seong-Jin Cho brilliantly glides through arpeggios, glissandos, and never-ending runs like second nature, drawing out overlapping textures and turning clusters of notes into stories. Cho, who performed at Boston’s Symphony Hall as part of the Celebrity Series on February 2, 2025, played the complete set of solo piano works written by Ravel, a live rendition of an over two-hour-long album he released in January 2025 to commemorate the 150th anniversary of Ravel’s birth.
Cho begins with the Sérénade grotesque, immediately demonstrating his command over the variety of textures prominent in Ravel’s work. This piece is a patchwork of various sounds, with fast transitions from sharp, fortissimo staccatos to gentle, heavily-pedaled pianissimo. In the middle of the piece, Cho immediately channels bursts of energy from loud chords into soft, alternating notes, which then explode back into the chords. His powerful control over dynamic contrast appears to stem from the flexibility of his fingers. Throughout the entire performance, Cho plays softer passages with a soft, flattened hand, gently stroking the keys of the piano, and for the louder sections, he leans forward and channels his body weight into his more rigid hands. The genius of Cho’s Ravel performance lies not only in his interpretation of overarching melodic and harmonic stories but also in his clear knowledge and deliberate application of the mechanics of piano technique.
This skill is further demonstrated in Cho’s performance of Jeux d’eau, a piece meant to evoke the playful character of sparkling streams of water arching over a fountain. And indeed, Cho’s fingers sparkle. Most of the piece is composed of fast clusters of notes, whether in the form of short arpeggios, long runs, or something else entirely. While Cho plays the notes with great speed and precision, creating a sweeping effect reminiscent of flowing water, each and every note is somehow still perfectly distinct, portraying the smooth jets of water and clear sparkles that emit when light is shone upon the fountain.
Alborada del gracioso is the first clear departure from Ravel’s penchant for flowy, water-like pieces in the program. It begins immediately with a rhythmic staccato background, reminiscent of beating drums. Ravel’s versatility in composition perfectly complements Cho’s versatility of playing style, as the audience gets to witness the performer paint a different kind of picture. Cho performs the lively sections of this piece like a virtuosic dance. The textural contrasts that he applies so well come as Cho uses the pedal to alternate between crisp staccatos and smooth lines—which sometimes even appear within the same measure. In this piece, his feet move almost as fast as his fingers, as he varies not only the length of pedals, but also the depth, expanding his range of textures. The sparkling quality seen in Jeux d’eau also extends to the repeated notes that pepper the last half of the piece—they are played so fast they almost blur into a singular sound, but each note remains distinct and accurate.
Arguably the climax of Cho’s entire performance, Scarbo from Gaspard de la nuit is a demonstration of not only Cho’s strengths—textural contrast, voicing, tone—but also a display of pure virtuosity. Fast runs, rapid repeated notes, runs spanning nearly the entirety of the keyboard, sharp changes in texture and dynamics, a resounding storyline—Scarbo has it all. And, evidently, so does Cho. He effortlessly passes voices between hands, bringing out clear, interconnected melodies even from within a cesspool of dissonance, and, as expected, his runs are essentially flawless without sounding robotic, creating a distinct feeling of increasing suspense. Scarbo ends surprisingly quietly—an understatement compared to its roaring technicality—but the applause that follows is far from quiet. A resounding standing ovation, and the program hasn’t even ended yet.
The rest of Cho’s program is similarly impressive. Highlights include the collection of waltzes that blend into each other, leaving only their distinct styles to indicate starts and finishes to the listener, and Le tombeau de couperin, a suite similar in organization to a Bach Partita, echoing more traditional forms while adding Ravel’s unique touch. In the Prelude of Le tombeau de couperin, Cho does a masterful job of changing the color of the music—by modifying dynamics and his touch on the keys—even as the tempo and rhythm of the notes remain constant.
Overall, Cho’s performance of Ravel’s entire solo piano repertoire proved to be both technically impressive and musically alluring. After multiple rounds of standing ovations by audience members who were no doubt waiting for an encore, Cho came back out and shut the piano lid—a sign that there would be no encore—to laughter from the audience. And after two hours straight of brilliant, virtuosic musical performance, who can blame him?