THE DYNAMIC DUO
Víkingur Ólafsson and Yuja Wang’s Disney Hall duo recital on February 26 wasn’t just a concert—it was a spectacle of sheer pianistic brilliance, a conversation between two of the most electrifying musicians of our time. This highly anticipated concert, part of their collaborative tour, showcased a program that spanned a diverse range of composers and styles, all crafted for four-hands. This wasn’t your standard recital; this was a high-voltage fusion of intellect, fire, and a touch of mischief, all played out on two keyboards and on one for the encores.
The night opened with Luciano Berio’s Wasserklavier, a hushed, dreamlike ripple of sound that felt like dipping a toe into an otherworldly lake. The pair barely seemed to touch the keys, yet every note glowed. They segued immediately into Schubert’s Fantasia in F minor, which the duo played like an impassioned dialogue—melancholic, dramatic, endlessly lyrical. As if finishing each other’s sentences, they weaved through the piece’s aching beauty with a telepathic connection. Occasionally, Ólafsson would glance to his left at Wang, but she stayed in her own world. Perhaps that’s why they played this piece with equal force, whether soft or forte. While his style is more buttery and hers more zestful, the pair sat side by side at grand Steinways with the lids removed.
Throughout the concert, the Icelandic Ólafsson would display more joviality than she did, but except for touching her heart after her signature bow—more like a snap up and down, really—the Chinese-Canadian Wang is a difficult personality to read in person. But who cares when you consider her mastery and her presence? With a stunningly voluptuous physique, she wears amazing gowns that show off her assets—wearing six-inch spiked heels at that. The duo made a handsome couple, he in an elegant business suit, and she in a sparkly cocktail gown. Known for her astounding wardrobe, Wang came out post-intermission in a fanciful outfit I can only describe as the human embodiment of the goldfish in Fantasia‘s Nutcracker Suite (perfect given we’re in Disney Hall).
Things took a turn for the surreal with John Cage’s Experiences No. 1, It’s a short three-minute piece where space and silence became instruments of their own. The duo embraced its sparse, weightless atmosphere with total conviction—making every rest feel as deliberate as every note. Still, I barely remember it. I can’t imagine why this was in the program, along with Berio’s Wasserklavier and Arvo Pärt’s 3-minute Hymn to a Great City. Perhaps they were meant to be felt like an exhale, all gentle resonance and meditative stillness, but it just didn’t gibe with a RECITAL from two of the world’s greatest pianists. You can tell it distanced the audience because this is where more dropped phones and coughs could be heard. Or perhaps the duo wished to display their versatility more than astound. Or they needed to take a rest between more arduous works.
Then came the rhythmic labyrinth of Conlon Nancarrow’s Study No. 6, arranged by the great Thomas Adès, an electrifying burst of mechanical precision and off-kilter syncopation. Their fingers blurred, their coordination was flawless, and somehow, they made it all groove. Plus, the four-minute miniature was fun.
This is when John Adams’ Hallelujah Junction hit like a jolt of caffeine. I had never heard the astounding work before. With jaunty, jumping, wild-and-crazy fractured rhythms—occasionally reminiscent of the first part of Andriessen’s De Materie—this pulsing, ecstatic piece is a test of rhythmic prowess, and the duo met it head-on—urgent, kinetic, impossibly tight. I believe this piece should have opened the concert.
After intermission—and a pause and applause for the guy who set up the music to retrieve his cell phone that he forgot on a piano—came Pärt’s Hymn to a Great City, which felt like an exhale, all gentle resonance and meditative stillness, even though it was a tribute to pulsating New York.
And then, the grand finale: Rachmaninoff’s Symphonic Dances. This wasn’t just music; it was an event. The sheer sweep, the drama, the fireworks—Ólafsson and Wang dug into Rachmaninoff’s lush harmonies and sweeping phrases with breathtaking agility. They knew exactly when to push forward, when to hold back, when to let the music breathe, and when to unleash its full power. By the final cascading notes, the audience was on its feet.
But they weren’t done yet. The three encores? All romance. Dvorak’s Slavonic Dance, Op. 72, No. 2, a Brahms Waltz—number 15 in A-flat Major from Op. 39—and Brahms’ Hungarian Dance No. 1A were positively exquisite and charming.
A night of contrasts, of conversation, of sheer musical chemistry—this wasn’t just twenty digits. This was magic.
photos of Yuja Wang and Víkingur Ólafsson performing at Walt Disney Concert Hall
on February 26, 2025 in Los Angeles, California, by Timothy Norris
