Francesco Piemontesi, Queen Elizabeth Hall, review With some young pianists, native brilliance and joy in sheer digital dexterity sometimes runs ahead of musical intelligence. That's never the case with Italian pianist Francesco Piemontesi. At the age of 29 he's already a superbly self-possessed artist. He has technique to burn, but the striking moments in this recital - and there were plenty of them - owed nothing to the "wow" factor. That musical intelligence was already evident in the programme, which was cunningly shaped to create a sense of burgeoning amplitude. The sonatas by Mozart and Schubert that came before the interval were both seldom-played products of their composer's youth, and though fascinating were not absolutely top-drawer works - a smart move, as it threw the focus onto Piemontesi's artistry. The first thing one noticed was how well matched Piemontesi's small perfectly-formed sound was to the essentially classical frame of the music. And yet there was never any sense of deliberate "holding back." The operatic quality in the slow movement of Mozart's sonata was beautifully caught. You could almost hear sultry clarinets answering the curling, graceful phrases of the "voice." In Schubert's slow movement, Piemontesi gave the dry bass a touch of pedal, just enough to lend its martial outline a mysterious quality (Piemontese is as much a poet of the pedals as he is of the keyboard). After the interval came music by Chopin and Debussy, and a sudden blooming of the piano sound. Even so, Piemontesi's performance of Chopin's Barcarolle was restrained by many pianist's standards, and probably too much so for some tastes. But I relished the unusual clarity of the inner parts, and the sense of release brought in the final pages, where Piemontesi seemed to finally let himself go. Finally came the crowning glory of this recital, a complete performance of the 2nd book of Debussy's piano Preludes. It's often said of Debussy that he dissolved musical line into sheer colour, but as Piemontesi's performance showed the truth is more complicated. The first piece Brouillards (Fog) is often rendered as pure mistiness, but Piemontesi gave us a sense of something solid glimpsed through the mist, which was much more interesting. Every one of the 12 pieces came up fresh, even the modest ones like Canope (Canopy) which nestled tenderly inside its opening and closing frame. Finally came Feux d'artifices (Fireworks), which whirred and crackled and finally erupted with a frenzied energy, in a way I've never heard equalled. Piemontesi's next UK appearance is with the BBC Symphony Orchestra at the Barbican on Dec 1.