Live Review: Joep Beving

A former advertising executive from the Netherlands, classical pianist and composer Joep Beving pitches his music to Melbourne Recital Centre as "simple music for complex emotions". A family man in his 40s who formerly thought of his piano playing as little more than a hobby, Beving originally released his debut album Solipsism in 2015 as a gift to his young children. Hoping to impress his kids with a vinyl record of their father's original neoclassical compositions, Beving also uploaded the album to Spotify where it has now been streamed in excess of 85 million times.

With his dense, unravelling compositions often lasting around four or five minutes, Beving's music feels like the critically acclaimed soundtrack to a film that is yet to be made. Despite being a self-proclaimed amateur, Beving plays with both impressive virtuosity and considerable restraint. Often melancholy and haunting, Beving's compositions possess a subdued majesty that bewitches the crowd before him. Playing without the front of his upright piano, the rise and fall of the instrument's hammers resemble the creation of some tiny wooden world brought to life by Beving's magic.

On first impression, you'd be forgiven for thinking he's just as morose as his music suggests. Standing at a mighty six foot ten and brandishing a full beard to complement his mane of blonde hair, Beving sits silently at his instrument with his back to the audience like some kind of mistreated fairytale giant. In a venue well known for its brilliant acoustics, the silence that Beving often utilises to dramatic effect feels like a second unseen instrument. After one particular coughing fit from the crowd, Beving turns to the audience with a nod and a smile without missing a beat, which sends the crowd into fits of laughter.

After a few pieces, Beving grabs a microphone and introduces himself with warmth, wit and great humour. Politely asking the audience not to clap between songs as it "is a bit of a time-waster", Beving's interactions with the crowd feel memorable and genuine as he only ever stops the show to explain the meaning behind certain pieces. Recounting his previous gig at Sydney Opera House, Beving's deep voice quivers for a moment as he sorts through the emotions behind his life's unexpected turn. "I keep sending photos to my friends back home, of where I am playing. I just can't believe I am here. But I am so glad." And so are we.