The 30th season of the Music at Amherst Concert Series opened with a bang with an inspired and animated performance from world-renowned pianist Richard Goode. The only thing more spectacular than Goode's masterful playing was his heartfelt investment in the music, manifested physically by his bouncing, singing and dancing along to the beautiful sounds that he was creating.

Goode's lengthy program was designed to take the audience on a journey through the history of Western classical music, sampling works of the piano greats. The excursion began with J.S. Bach's "Prelude and Fugue in G minor." Unpretentiously, Goode entered the stage, sat down at the piano and matter-of-factly began to play. As the piece progressed, I became increasingly aware of a sound besides that of Bach: the low rumblings of Goode's voice. He shamelessly sang and bounced along to the melody as he played. In fact, it appeared as though Goode was devoting more energy to these expressive antics than his playing itself. My seat on the side balcony offered a unique perspective on the situation. I had a clear view of Goode's face, while his hands remained obscured by the piano lid. This made for a bizarre visual-auditory experience-it appeared as though these exquisite sounds were coming out of Goode's mouth. This illusion testified to the ease and comfort of his piano playing.

The opening piece was followed by five of Bach's "Sinfonias." With closed eyes, Goode continued to sing and dance as he calmly executed waterfall-like runs of overlapping sixteenth notes. His facial expression never failed to reveal his opinion of the music. Thus, a smirk spread across his face during the E minor, obviously tickled by the contrast of the out-of-phase quarter notes layered on top of the sixteenth runs. Goode's performance of "Prelude and Fugue in B major" was a display of absolute technical virtuosity, though he took several breaks from the complexly-woven passages to conduct himself. Knowing better than to try anything fancy, Goode relished in the Bach pieces by letting the pure harmonic simplicity of the music speak for itself.

Joseph Haydn's "Sonata in D major" was next in the chronological progression of the program. The piece was representative of the highly embellished melodies of the Baroque period. Goode seemed to enjoy Haydn's drama, especially the suspenseful, deceptive cadence at the end of the piece. He closed the first half of the concert with the angsty and contemplative "Seven Fantasien" by Johannes Brahms.

After intermission, Goode opened with a stunning performance of Claude Debussy's "Three Preludes." The three movements of this piece recount various legendary myths. Goode's depiction of "The Sunken Cathedral" was gentle, yet insistent, and the shimmering runs took on a mystical, other-worldly quality. The alluring second movement of Scandinavian sea nymphs starkly contrasted the energetic, chromatic motives of the last movement, which told of a famous American acrobat named Levine. Judging by after-concert chatter, Goode's vivid rendition of this programmatic piece was a favorite amongst students in the audience.

The concert concluded with a number of works by Frédérick Chopin. Goode played his "Impromptu in F# major" with the ease and confidence of improvisation, and "Three Mazurkas (Polish Dances)" with simultaneous nationalistic liveliness and melancholy. These works were followed by "Nocturne in B major," "Polonaise in F# minor" and, for an encore, "Nocturne in Eb major."

My only criticism of Goode's performance is the number of consecutive Chopin pieces, between which he did not even break to receive applause. For a concert that had previously covered such a wide range of composers and styles, I was overwhelmed by the concluding deluge of Chopin. However, besides this one programmatic flaw, Goode's performance was spectacular. His beautiful playing, singing and movement enthralled the audience with the deepest sense of musical inspiration.