It features an all Bach program for multiple pianos accompanied by a string ensemble of members from the College of Charleston Chamber Orchestra and the Charleston Symphony Orchestra conducted by Lorenzo Muti. And all of the soloists are College of Charleston graduates.

This is not music that you typically hear on the radio or even on CD, partly because it is such an unusual combination of instruments.

The evening promises to be a spectacular finish to this season’s very successful series of concerts (thank you, Enrique).

TUESDAY • April 27 • $20/students free
J.S. Bach concertos for 2, 3, and 4 hands
8 PM • Sottile Theater • 44 George St

During his years in Leipzig, Johann Sebastian Bach had far more than just church music to attend to. As director of the Leipzig Collegium Musicum, he was also his city’s leading exponent of secular instrumental music. Bach, assisted by his two oldest sons, Wilhelm Friedemann and Carl Philip Emanuel, was responsible for providing fresh chamber and orchestral music for the Collegium’s weekly meetings.

Bach met these duties in various ways. First, he recycled many suitable instrumental works that he had composed during his periods in Weimar and (especially) Cöthen, often rearranging them for different solo instruments. Next, he simply adapted the music of other composers to his requirements—then an accepted practice. Finally, he wrote new works from scratch. All three of these schemes gave rise to Bach’s concertos for multiple harpsichords, four of which will be performed as piano concertos.

Concerto in C Major for Two Pianos, BWV 1061
Like all the other concertos on the program, this piece follows the usual Baroque concerto model: scored for strings and continuo, with fast-slow-fast movement sequences. Written around 1730, it was almost certainly conceived as a work for two solo harpsichords; the comparatively sparse orchestral parts seem almost to have been added as an afterthought. The opening Allegro is an effervescent affair, with the two soloists blithely tossing their themes back and forth. The gentle central adagio is played by the soloists alone. Likewise, the ebullient closing fugue begins with the unaccompanied soloists who develop their contrapuntal motifs for quite awhile before the strings finally join them.

Concerto in D Minor for Three Pianos, BWV 1063
Some music historians believe that this is a transcription of unknown work(s) by other composers. But most believe that the piece’s freshness and contrapuntal vitality could only be the work of Bach, and that he probably wrote it for his own performance (along with his two sons) at his Leipzig Collegium concerts. This stands to reason as the first harpsichord part (the one that Papa Bach would’ve certainly played) dominates with its greater technical challenge and pair of solo cadenzas in the first movement. In any case, the substance and power of its outer movements, plus the central movement’s subdued pathos, make this one of Bach’s finest of the genre.

Concerto in C Major for Three Pianos, BWV 1064
Some have criticized Bach’s keyboard concertos—with their overlapping contrapuntal complexities—as being forbiddingly dense and “overwritten.” But this concerto would seem an exception. The solo keyboard parts tend to stand out more clearly, as they are comparatively independent, and because of the orchestra’s often “solistic” roles. Believed to be a transcription of a (now lost) concerto for three violins, it remains a favorite of its kind. The first two movements are among Bach’s deepest and most wide-ranging. Keyboard players love it, too, as all three soloists get their own virtuosic cadenzas in the jaunty finale.

Concerto in A Minor for Four Pianos, BWV 1065
This is the only work in this group that can be firmly attributed to another composer. Bach arranged it from Italian master Antonio Vivaldi’s Concerto for Four Violins in B minor, Op. 10/3, during his Weimar period. Musicologists generally agree that he improved on the original by refining and extending Vivaldi’s counterpoint while enriching and clarifying his harmonic structure. Bach did likewise for the four solo parts, giving the keyboard players ample opportunities to shine.

(Lindsay Koob writes his regular blog Eargasms for the Charleston City Paper.)

Enrique Graf, Artist in Residence at the College of Charleston, is Director of the International Piano Series.

Click here to get ticket information.

Enrique Graf 2007 © Steve J. Sherman

AS PROMISED, below is part 2 of our interview with Enrique Graf, Artist in Residence at the College of Charleston, who will be performing next Tuesday night at the Sottile Theatre. The interview speaks for itself, but here are a few more interesting things you might want to know about Enrique’s background.

He was born in Montevideo, Uruguay where he started studying piano at the age of four. After winning all of the national competitions in Uruguay, he attended the Peabody Conservatory of Johns Hopkins University to study with Leon Fleisher on a full scholarship.

In 1977, he and Katherine Jacobson won First Prize in the National Ensemble Two Piano Competition. The following year, Enrique was the First Prize winner in the William Kapell International Piano Competition. And in 1981 he won the East and West International Competition in New York City.

Enrique’s all Francis Poulenc CD with the Charleston Symphony was a pick of the month by the Sunday London Times and was awarded five stars in Classic CD. And Paul Hume of the Washington Post said of his debut recording (Enrique Graf plays Bach) that it was “an end to the discussion of whether of not Bach should be played on the piano.”

Just in case you missed it, you can see part 1 of the interview here.

In the next few days, we will post part 2 of the video interview where Enrique talks about his students, his teaching methods, and his approach to music. In the meantime, get ready for what will surely be a spectacular concert at the Sottile.

TUESDAY • March 16
Works by Haydn, Rachmaninoff, Tosar, and Liszt
8 PM • Sottile Theater • 44 George St

Piano Sonata No. 62 (Hob. XVI/52) in E-flat Major • Joseph Haydn
This sonata is considered by many to be Haydn’s greatest (and trickiest) work in the genre. Like his Sonata No. 60 (see Mr. Berrocal’s program notes), it was written for London virtuoso, Therese Jansen, during his second visit to that city in 1794/95. As “Papa Haydn’s” sonatas go, it’s a rare tour de force of virtuosity.

The opening Allegro moderato movement treats an abundance of ideas, all based upon the material heard in the first eight bars. The secondary theme comes at the end of the exposition, launching an extended flurry of development. The following Adagio’s dotted rhythms and thematic materials bear strong kinship to the previous movement. The ebullient finale strays from the usual rondo form, again presenting a wealth of varied motifs in sonata form.

Morceaux de Fantaisie, Op. 3 • Sergei Rachmaninoff
Here’s a rare chance to hear Rachmaninoff’s five early Morceaux de Fantaisie as a complete set (they’re usually heard separately). They’re considered an important barometer of the composer’s early development. They are all in three-part (ABA) form, save for the final Sérénade—a straightforward waltz with Spanish inflections. The best-known of them by far is the second work of the cycle: the justly famous Prélude in C-sharp minor that the composer came to hate because his concert audiences always demanded it as an encore.

Aside from those, you’ll hear the lovely opening Elégie, a melancholic gem with epic melodies and a grand climax. Mélodie—the third number—combines drama with lyric beauty, with an ending that recalls Chopin. The following Polichinelle is a pyrotechnic blockbuster that comes at you like a fast and devilish march.

Danza Criolla • Hector Tosar
Pianist, conductor, and composer Hector Tosar (with whom Mr. Graf shares a birthday) was one of his native Uruguay’s most important musical figures. His early Danza Criolla is a fairly short (six minutes) and energetic piece that recalls the “Malamba”—a Gaucho folk-dance from the Pampas of Argentina. It begins and ends with a headlong pattern of running eighth-notes, in the driven manner of a toccata—with more lyrical moments in between. It features rather strange harmonics, with one hand playing in C Major (white keys) while the other plays only black keys. Its lively South American flavors are reminiscent of Alberto Ginastera, Argentina’s greatest composer.

Sonata in B minor • Franz Liszt
Liszt’s magnificent single-movement sonata—among his thousand-plus piano works—remains the only one written in strict sonata form. It comes across as a free-flowing, spontaneous fantasia—but it’s in fact very tightly organized around the materials heard in the work’s opening passages. It dates from 1854, after one of his high-born mistresses convinced him to retire from concertizing to concentrate on composition.

Single movement or not, the piece has all the trappings of a conventional sonata. Liszt managed to draw three complete themes from the opening bars—plus a chorale-like central passage. All of them are revisited in the later Prestissimo section, and (in part) in the concluding Andante. And there are sections of the work that even correspond to the usual opening movement-slow movement-scherzo-finale format. But even if you can’t catch them all, the work’s spectacular pyrotechnics and unbridled passion will simply bowl you over. •

(Lindsay Koob writes his regular blog Eargasms for the Charleston City Paper.)

It ended with a series of rousing standing ovations. As soon as Micah sounded the last note of a Rachmaninoff sonata, the audience was onto its feet. He smiled widely. Then came the Liszt encore, followed by more standing, clapping, whooping fans as Micah smiled again before disappearing off stage.

Right after the first piece—J.S. Bach’s French Suite No. 5—began, you could see audience members looking at each other, nodding, and shaking their heads. They were impressed. And they were proud to see such a virtuosic display by one of their own; in this case, a 15-year-old Charleston native who has been dubbed a piano prodigy.

Micah chose a broad and technically demanding program that he presented with great clarity, efficiency, and strength. His poise at the keyboard is impressive, and he plays with a quiet demeanor that lets his playing do the talking. No physical antics, no strained facial expressions. Just the steely concentration of fabulous fingers finding their way effortlessly up and down and across the keys. His pristine, almost crystalline technique seems to reflect a focused intent and genuine purity. (And in all these things you can see the influence of his teacher, Enrique Graf.)

Of course, unique talent, high praise, and heightened anticipation always bring out the deriders; those just looking for weaknesses, mishaps, and an opportunity to have their critical say. One gentleman I spoke to at intermission stated authoritatively that Micah’s rendition of Bach “did not touch me tonight,” that Micah needs a lesson in Chopin from someone who really understands the composer, and that it was unfortunate such high expectations should accompany such a young and still maturing pianist.

I could relate to all of these comments; they all contain some truth. I was only disappointed to see that the gentleman had nothing else to say; that he had missed all the wonderful things about this special evening—or else was unable to see and appreciate them.

I asked several other people the same question: what stands out for you about Micah’s performance tonight? They mentioned things like: “fabulous chops” (his large hands). “He is definitely a prodigy.” “I notice that his left hand is unusually strong.” “He plays with great clarity and uses very little pedal, particularly when playing Chopin—unlike so many pianists.” In general, there was a pulse of appreciation and a tone of acknowledgment.

I am far from a musical expert, but I can endorse two of the points just mentioned. First, that Micah plays with great clarity. He articulates each note in a way that makes him very easy to listen to. The sound is enjoyable and the phrases comprehensible. Nothing is muddy. Secondly, that his left hand is so strong. Typically, you hear the melody in the right hand, supported—very much secondarily—by the left hand. But with Micah, never have I had such a good time listening to the left hand, too. Especially when he had to manage two voices, one in each hand, as you have to do with Bach and Haydn, for example. Micah simply brought the left hand alive in a way that I have not heard nor been able to appreciate before.

Congratulations to this fine young man and superb talent, and to Enrique Graf for putting him on the solo stage. Equal congratulations to the Charleston audience for turning out in large numbers to see and support Micah’s debut. It clearly meant a lot to him, and we will be lucky to see him for awhile—until he gets swooped away by larger musical circles, as he surely will. •

I’ve been bearing such wondering witness to Micah’s music-making (and writing about it) ever since he first walked through the door of my sorely missed classical room at Charleston’s now-closed Millennium Music store, back when he was only eleven. Many of you will recall the lovely grand piano I had there—and the popular “Sunday Spotlight” concert series that I built around it. Ever the talent scout, I asked Micah to play something for me, after learning that he was an advanced piano student.

I expected—at best—the usual mechanical and mono-dimensional playing that you routinely get from kids, even the supposedly talented ones. But I wish I had been able to see my own thunderstruck facial expression as this shy, serious, towheaded slip of a boy launched into the Mozart sonata he was working on at the time. Not only was he hitting all the notes, but—right from the opening bars—he was also realizing almost everything else that the music had to offer behind mere notes. Not only were Mozart’s hallmark grace and charm there to be savored, but also the composer’s sunny sweetness—and even his occasional pangs of melancholy or sharp emotion. And it got even better, as Micah delivered further selections from other composers.

Micah McLaurin

Needless to say, I was absolutely floored—and lost no time in scheduling a semi-formal recital for him there at Millennium. A few weeks later, he appeared—resplendent in his rented mini-tux—to offer a 45-minute program of advanced classics (from memory!) to a standing-room-only crowd of stunned music lovers. Somehow, here—from a mere child—was real music-making-complete with technical confidence, interpretive maturity, and emotional depth… while remaining stylistically true to the composers at hand. As I’ve written before, many young virtuosos can play all the notes, but very few can put their whole hearts and souls behind them like Micah could, even then.

That was more than four years ago. Meanwhile, Micah has moved on to a world-class teacher: the College of Charleston’s Artist-in-Residence, Enrique Graf, who runs one of the country’s finest piano pedagogy programs. And Micah just keeps getting better and better. You can peruse Micah’s list of awards and competition wins in this earlier article. Graf calls him the most talented piano student he has ever had the privilege of teaching. And this week and next—over a span of four days—Micah will get his chances to prove it. His local orchestral debut will happen at this Saturday’s Charleston Symphony Masterworks concert, where he’ll be performing the slow movement from Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 23. The following Tuesday, he’ll be the youngest performer to ever get his own full-length, formal piano recital as part of Graf’s vaunted International Piano Series: a concert series that has showcased many of the world’s truly great piano masters over the years. And his ambitious program (see my program notes) is one that would intimidate many adult pianists. Trust me.

Let’s dig a little deeper into the “prodigy” matter. It’s almost impossible to define clearly, especially when you’re talking about music: the most subjective and intuitive of the arts. This is where the “wonder” part comes to bear—even for a seasoned musician and critic like me. I’ve already touched on matters like Micah’s uncanny interpretive depth and emotional vitality. So how, you may ask, has a home-schooled ninth-grader (also a boy scout and competitive swimmer) managed to accumulate enough of life’s inevitable ups and downs to enable him to express the kinds of heart-on-sleeve emotion and dramatic intensity that you hear in his playing? What can a barely adolescent boy possibly know of adult-level romance, humor, triumph, drama, grief, desolation, or any of the other human feelings and impulses that music speaks of? Yet, with your eyes closed, you’d swear that it was a fully grown, finished artist at work before you.

May I suggest that Micah’s preternatural musical maturity—since it can hardly be the result of actual life experience—flows perhaps from a deep and mystical sensitivity to the music at hand; he has somehow come to understand such intangible qualities from the music itself. Micah, still a shy and soft-spoken young man, is nevertheless a confident, even fearless performer who would rather do his talking with his flying fingers. He and I have communicated at length via email and Facebook, and he’s dropped some interesting hints along the way. He has spoken of “dreaming” spells inspired by the music of composers like Chopin, Rachmaninoff, and Wagner.

But most telling, perhaps, was his answer to one of my questions a few months back about how he seeks to engage his listeners. His simple response was, “I want to make my audience cry.” And I can testify, from personal experience, that Micah has the power to do just that. His performing muse is driven by his desire to share with others the beauty and emotional intensity of music that has ignited a joyful fire in his soul; music that is simply too precious to keep to himself.

So, especially if you’ve never heard a real “Wunderkind” in person before, just be there at the Gaillard this Saturday—or at the Sottile Theatre next Tuesday—to share my own endless sense of wonder as this young wizard plays his way into our hearts. And don’t forget your hanky: you’ll probably need one before Micah is finished with you. •

(See Lindsay’s program notes for the Sottile performance: click here.)

Roberto has been a soloist with major orchestras in South Carolina, including the Greater Spartanburg Philharmonic, the Greenville Symphony, the Charleston Symphony, and the South Carolina Philharmonic. And he was twice a finalist in the Princess Cristina National Competition in Spain, as well as a semifinalist at the Hilton Head International Competition.

Roberto has performed in Europe and North and South America, and is currently pianist and coach for the Florida Grand Opera, as well as the Music Director at Saint Hugh Catholic Church in Coconut Grove. He also teaches at the New World School of the Arts in Miami.

TUESDAY • NOVEMBER 10
Works by Haydn, Rachmaninoff, Liszt, and de Falla
8 PM • Sottile Theater • 44 George St

Josef Haydn: Sonata No. 60 in C Major (H. XVI/50)

Haydn—unlike his successor, Beethoven—was hardly a virtuoso pianist, but he understood the instrument very well. His many piano sonatas vary considerably in their levels of sophistication and difficulty, depending on whom they were intended for.

Joseph Haydn

While many of them were written for his assorted students, the Sonata No. 60 in C Major (H. XVI/50) was composed for leading English virtuoso, Therese Jansen, during his mid-1790s visit to London—and are thus among the most technically advanced of them all.

The sprightly opening Allegro movement is one of Haydn’s most effective—especially where he restates the initial theme in double notes while adding rising left-hand scales. The development section is particularly imaginative and varied. In the highly expressive and demanding Adagio movement, the tender opening motif stands in stark contrast to the second section’s octave passages. The brief and witty concluding rondo movement teases the listener with its unexpected pauses between fragmentary reprises of the main theme.

Sergei Rachmaninoff: Moments Musicaux, Op. 16

Rachmaninoff’s six Moments Musicaux, Op. 16, make up a highly appealing cycle that begs to be performed complete. In their scope and technical difficulty, they presage the composer’s later Etudes-Tableaux.

The first piece, in B minor, is a fairly lengthy composition that begins with a lovely and sorrowful melody over restless undercurrents. Then it shifts into a more optimistic connecting passage that leads to tense and rapid elaborations on the opening theme, before ending as it began. The second is an ecstatic fantasia built on a syncopated melody in octaves, bathing the listener in a sense of excited reverie. Number three begins as a slow and tragic march, cunningly developed with staccato left-hand octaves. The fourth item is an especially intense and hard-driving bruiser, with a rising theme over descending figurations in the left hand before working its way to a massive climax.

The cycle’s only moments of emotional relaxation come with the fifth piece: a tender and flowing barcarolle (listen above). The final number is a work of massive sweep and power, with complex figurations in both hands that seem to surge and recede with tidal effect.

Franz Liszt: Spanish Rhapsody

Liszt’s formidable Spanish Rhapsody is a feast of piano pyrotechnics. The first section is a romantic treatment of the well-known “la folia” theme that inspired endless sets of instrumental variations since the early Baroque era. After stupendously virtuosic, Spanish-flavored treatments of that theme, the familiar “Jota Aragonesa” motif appears. A more pensive secondary theme surfaces before combining with the opening folia theme and driving to a spectacular finish. This jaw-dropping showpiece (listen at left) will be a partial re-arrangement by Mr. Berrocal—according to suggestions made by master Cuban pianist Jorge Luis Prats (who is well-known to this series’ audiences).

Manuel de Falla: Fantasia Baetica

Manuel de Falla’s wonderfully colorful Fantasia Baetica, written in 1919 and dedicated to piano legend Artur Rubinstein, takes its title from the ancient Roman name for southern Spain: the region now known as Andalusia, where Flamenco was born. Its brilliant and rhythmically vital outer sections frame a brief central interlude. Ever the impressionist, Falla deftly serves up a rich feast of Flamenco style and spirit, complete with characteristic guitar textures—plus vivid keyboard evocations of all the associated stomping, clapping, and singing. •

Read Lindsay’s introductory article to this series.

Hartmut Sauer, however, is a fascinating exception with his detached style of playing. He has an assured, elegant touch that yields a wonderfully intricate, delicate, and dynamic sound that is very polished—an almost crystalline command.

But most interesting to me is how his hands play on top of the keyboard—almost directly above it—as he sits relaxed, seemingly removed from the complex task that his fingers are carrying out. Meanwhile, a richness of feeling pours into his fingers, onto the keyboard, and through the piano. Rather than merging with the instrument, he serenely imparts sound to it through fingers that impartially manipulate the keys.

When Hartmut first walked onto the Sottile stage, his gait gave the impression of someone strolling to a restaurant for dinner. And he left the same way—after taking us and himself on a demanding roller coaster ride through Schubert, Hoiby, and Chopin.

During the intermission, I asked a pianist what she thought of the concert thus far and she hesitatingly replied, “I wish he would play more for me and less for himself.” I took her comment with me as a filter for listening to the rest of the program, but I could not endorse it. Whereas Hartmut may have seemed self-indulgent to some listeners, I had the vivid impression that he was uniquely immersed in the depths of the music, striving to explore and deliver as much of it as he could. There was something zen-like in his approach: focused, yet yielding; passionate, yet uninvolved. He himself remained a mystery to the audience, but not to himself it seemed.

This quality is clearly his own, but I also had the impression that his understated manner of playing is something characteristic of most if not all of Enrique Graf’s students who consistently display remarkable focus, clean interpretation, and a composure that could serve as a standard for stage performers in any of the arts.

Yes, this International Piano Series at the College is something special. •

Read Lindsay Koob’s review of this performance.

Hartmut has been featured in concerts throughout Europe, Russia, and the United States. His competition prizes include the Jugend Musiziert Competition in Germany, the Anton G. Rubinstein International Piano Competition, and the Johannes Brahms International Piano Competition in Austria. He has alsoappeared in the Im Agricoli Festival in Poland, the Schubertiaden and Dreiklang festivals in Germany, and Piccolo Spoleto in Charleston.

Hartmut received his Artist Certificate from the College of Charleston where he studied with Enrique Graf. He is currently a faculty member at the Conservatory of Music in Dresden, Germany.

MONDAY • OCTOBER 26
Works by Schubert, Hoiby, and Chopin
8 PM • Sottile Theater • 44 George St

Franz Schubert: Moments Musicaux

Franz Schubert’s six Moments Musicaux remain among the most beloved of his many piano miniatures. Written mostly during the final two years of his tragically short life, they are full of the composer’s hallmark melodic charm and harmonic beauty. Some have characterized them as “songs without words.”

The opening piece (listen at left) is a kind of stylized minuet—one that was never meant to be danced to. Its upbeat outer sections stand in stark contrast to the wistful and lovely central section. The second is a gentle, five-section rondo of sorts, with tuneful, yet tragic interludes—and even a moment of helpless, “why-me?” outrage (he knew he didn’t have much longer to live). Next comes a delicate little eastern-flavored gem that sparkles, delights, and makes you want to dance.

The highly original fourth piece sounds almost like Bach, with staccato bass figures underlying its mesmerizing legato melodic flow—until the middle section’s placid, “rowing” theme appears. Marked contrast arrives with the fifth number: a robust, galloping piece with moments of subdued mystery. The final item—the longest of the lot—returns to the quasi-minuet form and mood of the opening number; offering soft, other-worldly appeal shot through with a desolate sense of emotional resignation.

Lee Hoiby: Toccata · Schubert’s Variations

Franz Schubert

American master Lee Hoiby has been called the “other Samuel Barber.” His Toccata, Op. 1 was written in 1951, while he was still a student—before he had found his mature voice. Its virtuosic nature reflects his ambition to become a concert pianist.

This experimental work is reminiscent of Debussy, and especially Prokofiev. It bounces back and forth between conventional harmony and atonality. Save for a chorale-like central passage, it’s a kinetic and hard-driving piece, with a tense and worried feel to it. Hartmut described it as “kind of crazy.”

Hoiby’s Schubert Variations, dating from 1979, are based on one of Franz Schubert’s many short waltzes for piano—specifically a “Ländler,” a kind of Austrian folk-dance. The piece, in somewhat altered form, also exists in a chamber version for nine strings and woodwinds. The music seems to progress ever-farther from the dark, minor-key theme, while retaining Schubert’s original bittersweet aura. The prevailing mood is subdued and lyrical, though there are some rapid and rhythmically vital passages. A gentle restatement of the opening theme brings the work to a pensive and lovely close.

Frederic Chopin: Sonata No. 3 in B minor

While the vast majority of Frederic Chopin’s output consists of shorter pieces, his final Sonata No. 3 in B minor, Op. 58 is a shining example of his skill and assurance in handling the more substantial sonata form.

Its opening movement presents a brief and stormy first theme, followed by a more extended second subject. The music alternates between stunning virtuosity and quieter lyrical passages, with deft use of counterpoint in its central development section. The following scherzo movement is a delightful and fleeting romp, temporarily interrupted by a serene and poignant trio section.

The soft and songful largo movement—the sonata’s heart (listen at left)—could well have been one of Chopin’s enchanting nocturnes. It begins with an exquisite aria, leading into a quietly rhapsodic central section. The swelling chords that begin the finale quickly give way to a headlong, often violent rondo that skillfully blends elements of its opening and middle sections as it drives to a blazing finish. •

Read Lindsay’s introductory article to this series.

As a sometime pianist and piano music devotee myself, I’ve been attending and writing about IPS for nearly a decade. I can attest that even most major metropolitan areas don’t offer as star-studded, diverse, or well-supported a piano series as this.

Previous series have brought us legendary keyboard greats like Leon Fleisher, Earl Wild, Abbey Simon, Ann Schein, and Jorge Luis Prats—plus notables like Anne-Marie McDermott, Andrew von Oeyen, Stephen Prutsman, Awadagin Pratt, and Sergey Schepkin, among others. Enrique, as one of the piano world’s most respected pedagogues, and a frequent judge at leading international competitions, has also seen to it that we have heard the cream of the world’s emerging young artists over the years, including a few of his own prize-winning students like Eunjoo Yun, William Villaverde, and Sean Kennard.

In the past, appearances by Enrique’s students were sprinkled among the established artists. But the upcoming season will, for the first time, be devoted entirely to his top protégés past and present. Young German keyboard wizard, Hartmut Sauer, studied with Enrique as recently as last year, and emerging Spanish virtuoso, Roberto Berrocal, was his star student nearly a decade ago. Perhaps the most remarkable recital you’ll hear this season will be from a bona fide prodigy: fourteen-year-old Charlestonian, Micah McLaurin. Micah has been studying with Enrique for nearly two years now, and this amazing young man has international superstar potential.

The 2009–2010 series will also include a choice program from Enrique himself, plus an extravaganza of Bach concertos for multiple pianos, performed by a bunch of Enrique’s finest students. We at CharlestonToday hope that the five sets of program notes which we will present here one week prior to each performance (and which will be published in the IPS season brochure) will enable regular attendees to learn about the music beforehand, thereby enhancing their understanding and enjoyment of the performances. Hopefully the notes will also inspire readers who are not among the series’ regular supporters to come see—and hear—for themselves what all the fuss is about.

Monday • OCTOBER 26
Hartmur Sauer plays Schubert, Hoiby, and Chopin

Tuesday • NOVEMBER 10
Roberto Berrocal plays Haydn, Rachmaninoff, Liszt, and de Falla

Tuesday • FEBRUARY 9
Micah McLaurin plays Bach, Chopin, Haydn, Rachmaninoff, and Prokofiev

Tuesday • MARCH 16
Enrique Graf plays Haydn, Rachmaninoff, Tosar, and Liszt

Tuesday • APRIL 27
Bach concertos for two, three, and four pianos and orchestra

All concerts • 8 PM • Sottile Theatre • 44 George St.

Five concerts for $80. Individually for $20. C of C students and those under 18 attend for free. Reservations and information at (843) 953-6575 or www.internationalpianoseries.org.

Enrique Graf is College of Charleston Artist-in-Residence. After winning all the national competitions in his native Uruguay, he attended the Peabody Conservatory to study with Leon Fleisher. He won first prize in the William Kapell International Competition, the National Ensemble Competition, and the East and West International Competition. And he has given recitals and has been a soloist with orchestras all over the world.
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Enrique’s all Poulenc CD with the Charleston Symphony was a pick of the month by the Sunday London Times. He has also made recognized recordings of Bach Suites, Mozart Sonatas, the Liszt Sonata, works by Mendelssohn and Mussorgsky, the Grieg Concerto, Edward Hart’s Tidal Concerto, Gershwin’s Concerto in F, and two Beethoven Concertos, which have been called “ideal performances” by Fanfare.