Back in the 1990s, I began collecting CDs of J.S. Bach’s keyboard works, played by young Canadian pianist Angela Hewitt, The winner of 1985’s Toronto International Bach Competition, her playing was worlds away from the True North’s previous Bach-on-piano champion, the willfully eccentric Glenn Gould; dancing rhythmic vitality, crystal-clear delineation of melody and counterpoint, and a constantly spinning, singing line have always been Hewitt’s hallmarks. Even before she brought her Bach series to a culmination with an utterly dazzling take on the Goldberg Variations, I was long past fandom into near-adoration.

Since then, Hewitt has re-recorded key Bach works (including an even more impressive 2nd take on the Goldbergs), while moving on to Beethoven’s complete piano sonatas, selected Mozart sonatas and concertos, and a wide sweep of the keyboard and piano repertoire spanning centuries and continents, from Domenico Scarlatti to Olivier Messiaen. With more than 50 consistently superb albums and 40 years of international concerts to her credit, I’d argue that Angela Hewitt is the equal or better of any concert pianist active today (and I’m confident I’d win that argument). So hearing her in concert for the third time as part of our current Canadian odyssey was an absolute must.

This past Sunday, under the auspices of Stratford Summer Music, Hewitt filled the austerely midmod Avondale United Church with both an uncommonly focused audience and a involving, joyous program of serious fun. Playing her calling card right at the start, Hewitt hit the keyboard running with Bach’s Partita No. 6 in E Minor; its elevated Toccata and Fugue, poignant Sarabande, remarkable Corrente, genial Air, lilting Gavotte and surprisingly angular Gigue all unfurled with grace, clarity and strength. But the profound Sarabande — which Hewitt has referred to as Bach “alone in communion with his maker in a dialogue that is at once sorrowful, hopeful, passionate and at times exalted” — was the hushed essence of the work; you could hear a pin drop and feel the listeners breathing with Hewitt as she delved deeply into that movement’s grave, elegant mystery and wonder.

Ludwig van Beethoven’s “Moonlight” Sonata proved both a logical follow-up to the Bach and a welcome change of pace; as Hewitt brought delicacy and sympathetic spirit to the famous opening movement, you could hear both the musical DNA Beethoven inherited from Bach and how he developed it in his own dramatic fashion. And in Hewitt’s hands, the wistful Allegretto and the wildly spiraling climax of the Presto agitato were logical extensions of the opening, but also vivid declarations of Beethoven’s determination to “seize Fate by the throat”. From the prolonged blast of applause that followed, you would have thought that there was nothing more than Hewitt could show an audience already under her spell.

Which is why the sonatas by Domenico Scarlatti that opened the second half of Hewitt’s program were such a refreshing breather. The simple charm of Scarlatti’s D Major Sonata K. 430, the K. 380’s courtly E Major trumpetings and the gyrating tarantella of K. 159 in C Major turned out to be consummate palette-cleansers — substantive yet easily digested appetizers before the daunting final course of Johannes Brahms’ Variations and Fugue on a Theme of Handel.

My 2nd Brahms variation set in 24 hours, the Handels are not for the faint of heart, whether you’re hearing or performing them — in her brief pre-concert introduction, Hewitt mentioned how she had been discouraged from learning the piece when younger because “women can’t play it.” The next half-hour proved how totally wrong such a stupid comment could be: working from memory as she had throughout the recital, Hewitt dealt out Brahms’ 25-plus takes on the theme from Handel’s Keyboard Suite No. 1 with utter commitment and total command. Such lucid structural thinking, such immediately evident dedication to the work, such finely graded touch, and tone, and rubato, and dynamics! What a powerful musician Hewitt is, and how completely she inhabited the moment! It was a performance to revel in, even while looking forward to hearing her promised recording of the piece (scheduled this fall for a future release).

This time, when the music ended, the crowd leapt immediately to their feet, and the applause simply didn’t stop — at least until Hewitt provided a brief, lyrical encore from Mendelssohn’s Songs Without Words. In all probability, this concert will be firmly lodged in the “all-time Top Ten” I keep in my head; it’s hard to beat two hours of total connection between a thrillingly communicative artist & a raptly attentive audience. Brava!

— Rick Krueger