And just like his ancestors, the Vikings, Ólafsson says, he travels the world, carrying with him his interpretations of composers such as Bach and Beethoven. But for the pianist, it is not only about entering the world of Bach or Beethoven as a guest—through his interpretation, the composers also become part of his own musical cosmos. And with Ólafsson, that cosmos always sounds refreshingly new and diverse: his piano playing is fresh and clear, sometimes so vivid that one almost seems to hear in three dimensions. He once said in an interview that he is searching for the “impossible sound.”
This search begins early. Even as a toddler—before he can even speak—he explores sounds on his parents’ grand piano. His mother, a pianist, and his father, a composer, bought the instrument on credit while they were still students and placed it in the middle of their very small apartment. But Víkingur Ólafsson’s musical spark was ignited even earlier: when his mother was pregnant with him, she was practicing for her solo piano exam. And the baby in her womb—just a few centimeters away from the keys—was already immersed in piano sounds before taking its first breath.
Bathing in sounds, immersing himself in them—this is something Víkingur Ólafsson continues to do to this day. Last season, he played nothing but Bach’s Goldberg Variations. He had planned to give 88 concerts—one for each key on a grand piano. In the end, he played even more, simply because Ólafsson’s Goldberg Variations were too good to stop! He never grew tired of them; on the contrary, he kept discovering new dimensions in Bach’s legendary cycle of variations. Now that this Bach project is complete, it is Beethoven’s turn: Víkingur Ólafsson is embarking on a tour through the USA and Europe, performing Beethoven’s last three piano sonatas. Even while playing the Goldberg Variations, Ólafsson noticed connections to Beethoven’s late sonatas. “Almost like a love letter from Beethoven,” he said in an interview, describing the way Beethoven alludes to Bach’s Goldberg Variations.
Ólafsson is particularly fond of the second movement of Beethoven’s very last sonata, Op. 111—the Arietta with its five variations. He considers it Beethoven’s most brilliant movement and believes it is the only set of variations that can truly rival Bach’s. In Ólafsson’s view, they are not of this world: just like Bach, Beethoven here moves in entirely different spheres. The Arietta’s theme unfolds as pure poetry, while Beethoven, with sharp accents, grooving dotted rhythms, and seemingly endless, shimmering trill chains, throws open the door to the future.
Photo: Ari Magg