Signor Luca Fialdini penned a wonderful review of Mr Bartoli’s recital in Palazzo Blu last March 9th. It can be read here (in Italian): https://www.operaclick.com/recensioni/teatrale/pisa-palazzo-blu-recital-del-pianista-sandro-ivo-bartoli
Here the English version:
OPERACLICK – March 16th, 2025.

Pisa – Palazzo Blu: Sandro Ivo Bartoli’s recital.
By Luca Fialdini.

The 2025 edition of Domenica in Musica, the festival organized by the Fondazione AREA and under the artistic direction of Vincenzo Maxia, is approaching its conclusion. The penultimate concert of the program features Sandro Ivo Bartoli, for the second time this year a “propheta in patria,” as he returns to the auditorium of Palazzo Blu with a three-part recital dedicated to Schubert, Scarlatti, and Liszt. These three composers represent entirely different sound worlds, just as the eras they evoke and their approaches to keyboard writing differ (not to mention styles and performance practices). This journey finds its unity precisely in its diverse destinations: from chamber music to the stage, from public music to more intimate compositions.
There is probably no composer better than Franz Schubert to embody the ideal of “intimate music”: intended for a very small audience, characterized by delicate sonorities and an expression of emotions that, in the broadest sense, can truly be defined as “private.” The famous 4 Impromptus Op. 90 impeccably follow this concept. Consider, for example, No. 1 in C minor, Beethovenian in both thematic conception and development, which was composed spontaneously as a posthumous tribute to his friend Ferdinand Walcher.
The first element that captures the ear (and remains a constant throughout the recital) is Bartoli’s expressive use of tone, which also demonstrates remarkable control of sound and articulation. Each note carries its own weight, producing a highly effective interplay of inner voices and treating the instrument in a way that creates orchestral-like colors and perspective. But it is not just a matter of sound and color shading; his management of dynamic density, from the fullest textures to silence, is also noteworthy. Impromptu No. 1 is particularly rich in these contrasts. Bartoli’s approach to this precarious balance—constantly wavering between a romanticism that never fully blooms and a classicism that has faded but not yet disappeared—is striking. Beethoven’s shadow is ever-present, yet there is no excess sentimentality or tragic allure. Even in the seductive B minor region of No. 2 (which might benefit from a slightly slower tempo), he favors Schubert’s characteristic tone—at once dreamlike and punctuated by abrupt awakenings, an eternal wandering from Heimat to the unknown, with no certainty of return.
The lyrical qualities, often associated with Schubert’s lieder tradition, are also well rendered. No. 3 offers a straightforward cantabile style, alternately imitating the human voice and string instruments, while No. 1 molds its fragile march theme into ever-evolving forms, beginning with an unharmonized melodic line and culminating in the sublime cello-like song of the left hand in No. 4. Bartoli’s reading of this Allegretto in A-flat major intriguingly links Schubert and Scarlatti, particularly through its rhythmic drive of sixteenth-note quartets and a modulating sequence performed with a crystalline, well-articulated touch reminiscent of 18th-century keyboard writing.
The second part of the program is undoubtedly the most anticipated, featuring Bartoli’s signature Scarlatti. This well-established pairing has resulted in a monumental video recording of all 556 keyboard sonatas and the publication of “Domenico Scarlatti. ‘Vivi felice.’ Vita e opere di Scarlattino, Cavaliero di San Giacomo,” published by Zecchini. The shift is sudden and complete—not just due to Bartoli’s deeper familiarity with Scarlatti compared to Schubert, but also due to his total internalization of the Neapolitan composer’s work. Ten sonatas are presented, each a strikingly diverse microcosm, interpreted with dazzling imagination. His deeply personal approach, whether one agrees with it or not, is a refreshing counterpoint to the often standardized interpretative readings in today’s piano scene.
While playing Scarlatti, Bartoli is entirely at ease (as he puts it, “like a mushroom in the damp”). Everything is vibrant and luminous, the musical discourse elegant and executed with striking clarity of sound—a result of the technical control and beautiful articulation previously mentioned. Each of these ten sonatas, each of these ten stunning miniatures, has been given its ideal character, a feat possible only through an inventive spirit that harmonizes with that of the composer.
In this historically informed performance (to use the fashionable term), there is no place for sterile, stiff baroque mannerisms or gimmicky surprises. Instead, the focus is direct and clear: the desire to deliver Domenico Scarlatti’s music exactly as it appears on the score—nothing more, nothing less. Surely, the “man of a thousand devils” would be pleased.
The intense matinée concludes with the Fantasia and Fugue on the Theme B-A-C-H, originally composed for symphonic organ and transcribed for piano by the composer himself, Franz Liszt. A true virtuoso showpiece aligned with Bartoli’s fiery expressivity, this work is a formidable challenge both in terms of technical bravura and structural complexity. The performer must navigate an expansive architectural framework where thematic elements are first presented individually, then reappear in variation and superimposition, forming a tightly woven musical mechanism that demands great effort.
Bartoli masterfully captures the spectacular performative aspect so characteristic of Liszt, with its dazzling figures and gestures integral to this phase of his compositional output. However, beyond the virtuosity, he also delves deeply into the complex musical text, which extends far beyond its flamboyant flourishes. He highlights the B-A-C-H motif, which, rather than serving as a mere symbol for Liszt, acts as a source of thematic and harmonic material. Indeed, the seemingly endless development of this piece appears intent on extracting every possible nuance from the four-note figure—first introduced as an ostinato, then transformed into a fully-fledged melodic element.
More than ever, Bartoli’s tendency to treat the piano as a one-man orchestra pays off, weaving Liszt’s dense textures to evoke orchestral instrumentation. He also maintains a strong underlying tension, lending weight even to the most ethereal and mysterious moments (such as the pianissimo entry of the fugue’s subject). The result is a performance that is vigorous, at times pyrotechnic, yet always deeply insightful.
As a final farewell to the enthusiastic audience, Bartoli offers one last tribute to Domenico Scarlatti: the Sonata in F minor, K. 519.

Luca Fialdini
(This review refers to the concert of March 9, 2025).