With infectious charm and energy, Pianoforte invites viewers into one of the most prestigious piano competitions in the world. The tension and passion is palpable; before and after the credits roll, you can’t help but feel inspired.
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“It’s like the Olympics of piano,” says Leonora Armellini, one of the select few competing in the 18th International Chopin Competition.
Once every five years, some of the most skilled pianists from all over the globe, aged 18 to 30, arrive in Warsaw to showcase their hard-earned repertoire of preludes and etudes, nocturnes and scherzos, concertos, ballades, sonatas, and more. The competition, which takes place over a demanding three-week period—and requires not only refined technical skill but the ability to dazzle and perform—is not for the faint of heart. Sometimes even the best decide to walk away.
Established in 1927, the competition was created to honor Frédéric Chopin, the Polish-born pianist who died at just 39. You’ve almost surely heard some of his most famous pieces, like Nocturne in C-Sharp Minor, a languorous piece that feels tailor made for inducing a gentle night of sleep. Other of his works are fast-tempoed, virtuoso compositions that leave the heart racing.
Directed by Jakub Piatek, Pianoforte does a stellar job at taking a subject which might not initially appeal to a broad audience and turning it into something truly magnetic. The film achieves a nice balancing act between scenes inside the National Philharmonic Hall—where the elite pianists strut their stuff—and those in which we see the talented cast of characters away from the piano. It’s a window into a world many of us might otherwise not encounter.
The documentary begins with some of the piano wunderkinds experimenting on stage with various pianos—Yamaha, Kawai, Steinway—as they ponder which one to use for the competition. From the auditorium, a smattering of interested parents and piano teachers look on. At times, commands ring out: “More restricted, Eva. Otherwise, you can’t keep it up. Thank you. Try the 16th bar. Fine. Now play the same on the Yamaha.”
Among the many competitors we met in the film is Hao Rao of China, a mere teenager, whose teacher has been with him since the beginning of his piano playing life. His parents, too, have been integral to fostering his music development, and in a short but touching scene we see his mother flipping through a binder filled with all the travel tickets accrued over the years—tangible reminders of just how much time, energy, and money Rao’s parents have sacrificed.
There’s Eva Gevorgyan, a blond and long-haired seventeen-year old from Moscow. Despite her age, she’s already won dozens of competitions across the globe. Not a bad start for someone who might not even have a driver’s license.
Through the course of the film, we become acquainted with many other competitors, including the aforementioned Leonora Armellini, an Italian with an admirable combination of focus, conviviality, and wit. At a social gathering, she remarks to someone who isn’t in the competition and doesn’t know much about it, “If you win the forty thousand [in prize money] you might be using it to go to therapy.”
She’s not the only one to harbor such complex feelings. In fact, many of the competitors seem almost relieved to confess just how grueling the experience can be. And for some, the experience isn’t just physically and mentally taxing but also ambivalent. “How can you compete in music?” asks Alexander Gadjiev, one of the older competitors. It’s a fair question to ask.
It’s also a catalyst for viewers of the film to reflect on the passions in their own lives. What is it that drives our creative and artistic impulses, especially when we could simply forgo them and thereby rid ourselves of a thousand frustrations and disappointments? What is it that propels us to return to the piano bench, the tennis court, the easel, the blinking cursor on the screen, when the previous day yielded nothing but heartache and frustration? In an age in which technology offers increasingly easy and convenient ways in which to “express” oneself, such questions feel as pertinent as ever.
Pianoforte is a joy to watch. As the stages of the competition progress and the number of competitors dwindle, the drama becomes ever more intense. In the end, there’s only one ultimate winner. But most viewers of this thoughtful film will surely not view that as the only metric that matters.
Spectatio 
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