His concert at the Berlin Philharmonic was comparatively tame. At the end of March, the French cross-border commuter reached for the keys in delicate plinker-plonker mode. Only his hands, clad in diamond gloves, radiated the glamor that was often shown.
Occasionally he rose from his maestro stool and contorted his body in full elation like Prince once did. After the compact set ended, a long line of autograph hunters stretched through the foyer of the Philharmonic. In his home country he plays in the huge “Stade de France” – and you can currently see thousands of posters for his new album “Movie” in the Paris metro.
Undoubtedly a superstar of neo-classical music who is also breaking all records on social media. After Berlin and Munich, the 36-year-old up-and-comer from a migrant suburban background is playing this evening (April 30th) in the – of course sold out – Elbphilharmonie in Hamburg.
Chopin, Liszt, Schumann – and still no Clayderman
In an interview with the online service of “Klassik Radio” he explains his artistic attitude. His performances do not follow a fixed plan: “I play every concert differently,” he says. “I don’t want people to experience the same show over and over again.”
He locates his musical roots in Romanticism and Impressionism: the “melancholy and intimacy” of Frédéric Chopin, the virtuosity of Franz Liszt and the “incredible imagination” of Robert Schumann characterize him, as do the sound worlds of Maurice Ravel and Claude Debussy. Sometimes his successful colleague Richard Clayderman (73) isn’t that far away – if it weren’t for the connection to hip hop and other playing fields.
Like his own genius CV, he sees his current album “Movie” as a “love story”.
To do this, he radically expands his spectrum and brings together musicians such as Celeste, Wyclef Jean, J Balvin, Sia and Rema. “I have to be in the same room with them to feel the emotions.” With Christine and the Queens, a quarter of an hour of improvisation was enough. “We knew: the song was in the can.”
For him, the piano functions not only as an instrument, but as a “medium of understanding”. When asked what he would say to his younger self, he simply replies: “Stay exactly the way you are.” In the end, his artistic mission is distilled into a noble claim: “My greatest dream is to bring joy and hope and to help people better understand their feelings.” Music, according to Pamart, begins where genre boundaries end – and where people really listen to each other.
Through the universe in 88 keys
His previous albums “Planet”, “Letter” and “Noche” were each seen as their own emotional landscapes. They were journeys inward and outward at the same time, borne out of the idea that a single instrument is enough to convey the entire spectrum of human feeling. Through the universe in 88 keys.
With “Movie” Pamart opens a door into the – for him – unfamiliar orchestral world. “I wanted to hear what my melodies would become if they could breathe,” he says. A sentence that reveals a lot about the core of this album.
Pamart describes writing for orchestra as learning a new language. While the piano allows him complete control – over touch, dynamics, time – the orchestra forces him to surrender. Suddenly there are trumpets and trombones that add color and power, percussion that shifts emotions, and a multitude of voices that have to relate to each other. Composition becomes a social practice: listening, reacting, leaving space. “The orchestra demands humility,” he says, not without pathos.
48 microphones in the Rudolfinum
The album was recorded in the Rudolfinum in Prague, a hall from the late 19th century whose acoustics are almost mythically charged. Wood, gold, a ceiling like a cathedral – and a sound that doesn’t simulate warmth, but carries it. 48 microphones were installed to capture the orchestra in all its dimensions: 48 perspectives on a single work, with enough space for each group of instruments to exist without overwhelming the others.
The moment Pamart first heard his compositions played by the orchestra marked a turning point. “Something has shifted,” he describes. The melodies that were previously thought of alone suddenly take on a magnitude that goes beyond the individual. Strings breathe, woodwinds sing, brass open spaces. The piano becomes part of a larger whole – not repressed, but reinforced and carried through the context.
Fashion as a musical statement
He is a picture-perfect stylist: someone who sees fashion as an extension of his musical identity. His collaborations with renowned Parisian couture houses cannot be counted on two hands. His performances are visual statements, composed like his pieces. He recently caused a stir in Berlin when he appeared in the hall wearing diamond-studded gloves – an image somewhere between luxury and conscious exaggeration that certainly distracted some viewers. Lost in Bling Bling.
It is this combination of radical aesthetics and artistic control that sets him apart from the classical pianist tradition and brings him closer to the codes of pop and couture.
His performance today at the Elbphilharmonie will bring new O-La-La moments alongside the buttery tracks. The spectacular Elphi Auditorium, itself an “instrument” made of fine materials, becomes the soundboard of an artist who has learned to act on a grand scale. At least on his new album, he has reached a point where virtuosity alone is no longer enough: it’s no longer about what he can play – he shows what happens when he allows other voices. During his performance on the Elbe, however, he once again plays the shrill soloist in pointed ankle boots.