When we were in Athens a few weeks ago, we attended a concert by the Piandaemonium Ensemble. This is actually a group of pianists, performing on 6 pianos. It's essentially a piano orchestra. I was wondering about how the sound would be like, so we decided to check this out.
This concert was a fascinating beast. Given my taste for the "heavy hitters" of the 20th and 21st centuries — Xenakis, Ginastera, and Reich — this program offers a percussive, high-octane environment that usually aligns with my preferences. However, since I have a low tolerance for "music for the masses", there are a few moments where the program leaned into accessible virtuosity that felt a bit "light" for my palate.
They started with In C Lines 6×2 (2023) by Savvas Tsiligkiridis. This is a contemporary work specifically designed for the 12-hand format. It utilizes the massive resonance of six pianos to create shifting rhythmic phases and overlapping textures. But what perhaps disturbed me was the use of the electronics, and the fact that the speakers were on one side of the auditorium while the pianos were on the other side made it slightly spatially disturbing.
Then they played Old Jazz Memories (2017) by Nikolas Anadolis. This was rather rhythmic. Anadolis is a virtuoso who bridges the gap between third-stream jazz and contemporary classical. This piece uses the 6-piano engine to create a "super-piano" jazz ensemble, featuring complex syncopation and thick, post-bop harmonies. Now, while I enjoy Gershwin and Bernstein, I sometimes find "sentimental" or nostalgic works less engaging. Thankfully, this piece doesn't lean too hard into such, and it didn't lose me. After all, the sheer technical complexity of 12 hands playing jazz provided the "edge" I appreciate.
Then there was the 4 Miniatures (Maronidis, Oikonomou, Sammoutis, Trypani) (2013), which is a "tasting menu" of contemporary Greek and Cypriot voices. These composers range from those interested in spectral textures to those who use the piano as a purely percussive tool. I absolutely enjoyed this one. There was even a piece that I wondered what the heck happened there? All pianists at some point left the stage, but the pianos kept sounding something, something strange that I didn't know what exactly happened. And then the pianists came back, and the piece ended.
The last piece before the intermission was The Musical Suite (2017) by Christos Papageorgiou. Papageorgiou often writes with a highly communicative, somewhat eclectic style that can border on the cinematic or the neo-romantic. This felt closer to the "accessible" side of the spectrum, resembling Tan Dun’s more melodic works or even the "cleaner" parts of Arvo Pärt, which I generally dislike. This was the danger zone of the overall concert for me, as it felt rather pedestrian.
After the intermission, they played the world premiere of Pianoscuro (2025) by George Tsontakis. Tsontakis often deals with "chiaroscuro" (light and shadow) in sound, using complex harmonies that are modern but grounded in a sense of drama. I definitely liked this piece.
And finally, the last piece they played was the Romeo and Juliet Suite originally by Sergei Prokofiev, but arranged for 6 pianos. By removing the lush strings and leaving only the percussive hammers of the pianos, the music becomes much more aggressive and modern. In this percussive form, it sounds less like a "romantic ballet" and more like Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring or Revueltas’s Sensemayá, which are two pieces I enjoy. The Piandaemonium arrangement strips away the "masses" sentimentality and leaves the "bone and muscle" of the rhythm.
Overall, I liked the concert. While some pieces tended to sound like a crowd pleaser, and sure enough, the crowd was pleased, nevertheless, overall it was a fantastic percussive concert that illustrates how pianos in a different setting could sound like.
