A Rare Bird With a Funny Bone

Both of the piano sonatas Adam Neiman performed on Sunday at the Walter Reade Theater are the number three in their composer's catalogues, but while the Beethoven is number three of 32, the Chopin is number three of — three. Each of these essays pays homage to their writer's favorite composers, but in very different ways.

Mr. Neiman is that rare bird, a musician who can actually speak in a cogent manner about what he is about to play. He pointed out the structural relationship between the Beethoven C Major Op. 2, No. 3 and the late symphonies of Mozart. The complex structure of this groundbreaking sonata becomes apparent soon after it begins, with development happening almost from the very first measure. It takes a steady hand to erect this edifice without mishap.

Mr. Neiman offered a good performance, solid in technique and all-encompassing in scope. He has the ability to capture all of the building blocks of a fine pianist. This is not the first time he has realized this particular piece on this stage, as he previously parsed it for an evening with virtuoso explicator Rob Kapilow. That initial rendition was very tight from beginning to end. This, however, which was not the case this day, as several of Mr. Neiman's entrances were tentative, and some rather odd pauses caused some breaks in the music's fluidity.

What was very good was Mr. Neiman's enunciation of the sonata's humor; his accentuation was sometimes a bit exaggerated, but with the best comic effect as its goal. This young pianist is certainly not afraid to be assertive.

The Adagio of this early sonata is very special indeed. It is the first great, ruminative slow movement of the entire sonata form era. Haydn and Mozart wrote profound slow music, but it was always there within the form to fulfill a contrasting, idyllic purpose, more of a Greek Classical balance than a standalone contemplation. Beethoven changed music significantly when he included this thoughtful movement, described quite aptly by Mr. Neiman as "zen-like." Here the keyboardist was in his element; this was the finest performance of the afternoon.

The B Minor Sonata of Chopin is most famous for what it is not. This is the large sonata without the funeral march (that's the B Flat Minor). Dramatic, operatic, theatrical, it is the polar opposite of the Beethoven, and requires a very different approach. Especially in the Largo, Chopin evokes the current popular love for the music of Vincenzo Bellini.

Technically, Mr. Neiman did a superb job. My quarrel with him is strictly a stylistic one. The opening measures should be an earth-shattering cascade, but his more balanced approach seemed much less exciting. Although he navigated the torrents of notes with apparent ease, he lacked spiritual tension throughout.

That Largo is incredibly beautiful and so it was in this accurate and evenly paced version, but Mr. Neiman never really developed the proper singing line. He might take solace in the fact that those of us who frequent the opera house know that many of our most acclaimed singers never achieve it either. Still, he intoned the middle section — essentially all accompaniment and no melody — quite lyrically.

The Finale got away from him ever so slightly, but it was dramatic. Perhaps Mr. Neiman's concentration should be on the single word "more." He has all of the raw material, technical competence and cerebral equipment. Now he needs to put it all together.

One suggestion: Loosen up a bit. Better a wrong note here or there if it leads to a freer interpretive style.