IMAGE AND REALITY : Marc-André Hamelin

Image...

...and reality. The authentic Hamelin walked onto Meany's black stage Thursday night, tux misplaced. He was clad in simple gray slacks and a casual shirt that might have been pulled from a country-western watering hole in Texas. Great green embroidered ribbons of foliage and threaded red roses graced Hamelin's shoulders. "Cool," Essie offered. Mr. Hamelin received my wife's good tidings and the audience's applause modestly.

Like every other performer I've seen at the "President's Piano" series at the University of Washington, Hamelin can play with the world's best. His first piece of the evening, Bach's "Chaconne from the Violin Partita in D minor" was affecting, but maybe that's just the insinuations of all the Hofstader I've been reading lately. Bach's piano stuff is very hard to play well, so I'm told.

Hamelin reminds me of Stephen Hough, who played like a god as the headliner of the President's Piano series two years ago. Like Hough, Hamelin's technique is immaculate. Also like Hough, Hamelin has a big bright creative mind hanging over those terrific hands. Both men performed some of their own compositions in the course of their performances. Hamelin's haunting "Music Box" evoked the quieting bells of rusting wind-up toys, the last dances of faded and tired things. Hamelin finished the piece with a long sigh, and Meany's full house spontaneously mumured its approval.