Hee-Youn Choue in Review

Hee-Youn Choue, piano 
Merkin Concert Hall, New York, N.Y.
May 21, 2013

 

As a seven-year music reviewer in New York, I’ve become so spoiled by the bounty of pianistic offerings in the various concert halls that occasionally it is an interesting test to ask myself, “what will I remember of this evening ten years from now?” Occasionally one may remember just the bad weather or the difficult cab ride, but there is no chance of that happening with a recent concert of pianist Hee-Youn Choue, whose final work, Concert Suite from “The Nutcracker” Op.71a  (Tchaikovsky, transcribed by Mikhail Pletnev) was not to be forgotten. The pianist displayed in this work some of the most delightful pianism I’ve heard in recent live recital. I’ll especially remember her hummingbird-fast repeated notes in the March, the wonderfully zesty Trepak, and the witty and all too brief Chinese Dance – pieces I’ve heard often enough to want never to hear them again, though here they refreshed, as if new. I’ll remember with a measure of perplexity the sight of the less than full hall – this pianist deserves so much more. Then, with a bit of annoyance I’ll remember a nearby audience member, who apparently did not know about clapping, but saved all her expressions of appreciation for a bus stop cellphone call afterwards – about what an amazing performance her friend had missed! Amazing it was. We can at least hope that if everyone who was there gabs equally, the next recital will be jam-packed.

Ms. Choue has just about everything – technical brilliance, intelligence, poetry, poise, artful programming, and a beautiful stage presence. In addition, she has caught the attention of New York Concert Artists and Associates, under whose auspices she has performed several times. She is gaining momentum and deserves to go far.

Her opening work, Haydn’s Piano Sonata in C Major, Hob.XVI: 50, impressed with its beautifully differentiated articulations. It was delicate and crisp in touch, though thankfully never becoming too precious. The robust spirit of Haydn emerged especially in some of the bolder bass parts (also well suited to this hall’s piano). The last movement pointed up Haydn’s humorous surprises well, and Ms. Choue seemed quite at home stylistically. Minutest reservations arose in the second movement, where improvisatory adornments seemed a bit too glossy and pedaled to feel truly Haydnesque – to me their almost impressionistic sweep obscured the vocal relationship to the main melodies, but of course that is a matter of personal taste.

Schumann’s Fantasiestucke Op.12 followed. All was well thought through and polished, with special highlights being the hearty “Grillen,” and dazzling “Traumes Wirren.” The opening “Des Abends” was beautiful in tone and phrasing, but for my taste started to show too much of the Romantic tendency of left hand-preceding-right hand. That style is one way of wringing the tenderness from the harmonies, but Ms. Choue’s translucent sound, sensitive dynamic gradations, and pedaling (which was at times very generous) could probably achieve the desired effect without such stretching, which occasionally risks sounding mannered.

After Intermission, Chopin’s Nocturne in B Major, Op. 32, No.1, and Scherzo No. 4 in E Major were a beautiful pairing. Clearly Ms. Choue savored the tonal relationship between the two and, by projecting the connection physically, she successfully prevented applause from separating them. The Scherzo was another highlight of the evening, filled with silken streaming passagework and beautifully fluid melodic lines. The Nocturne I enjoyed less, simply wanting more attention to tonal continuity (or was there a voicing inconsistency issue with the piano?) – an anomaly in an otherwise stellar evening.

The Tchaikovsky which followed – I’ll just repeat myself here – was worth the trip all by itself.  It should become a signature piece by Ms. Choue, though undoubtedly she will find many of those.

An encore of Domenico Scarlatti’s Sonata in A Major (K. 113, L. 345) brought more of the precise delicacy one heard earlier in the Haydn, capping off the evening perfectly. Brava!

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Sergei Kvitko in Review

 Sergei Kvitko, piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, N.Y.
May 23, 2013
 Sergei Kvitko, pianist
Sergei Kvitko, pianist
 

The solo piano debut of Sergei Kvitko at Weill Hall was a heartwarming occasion – even a love-fest – for many reasons that became clear throughout the evening. As a bit of background, the Russian-born resident of Lansing, Michigan is no average pianist. Having come to the U.S. to pursue a Doctor of Musical Arts degree at Michigan State University under the tutelage of Ralph Votapek, he has become a highly successful recording engineer and producer, with accolades for his work from numerous musical reviewers and a loyal following of musicians whom he has helped in their career paths. Beyond this, he is a composer and transcriber, as evidenced by several remarkable contributions on the evening’s program. He gives one hundred percent when he performs, and his energy is inspiring. In addition, he has an engaging personality, full of humor, something that showed in his commentary throughout the evening.

Mr. Kvitko opened with his own original transcription of Bach’s Prelude in C Major (from the Well-Tempered Clavier Book I). The title was listed on the program as “Prelude in C Major with a Few Added Notes.” A few, indeed! Roughly as Charles Gounod had been inspired by this Bach work to add melody above, Mr. Kvitko took things farther, using the Prelude as a bass (entirely played by his left hand) and adding a florid quasi-improvisatory right hand part which built virtuosically to a large climax. I always appreciate new inspirations coming from this beloved piece, and this was a fresh one.

My first reaction to seeing that Kvitko had also programmed his own transcription of Ysaÿe’s Third Sonata for Violin (also known as “Ballade”) was to ask “why?” – because in my opinion the Ysaÿe still could stand a few more decades of hearings as written before it becomes the foundation for a “fresh perspective” transcription. Well, that question was quickly negated by what emerged as a captivating expansion upon the original. Starting off with a note-for-note statement taken from the violin work, Kvitko continued the original but with fleshed-out and reinforced harmonizations, octave doublings, and in general heightened drama via his own elaborations. Rather than obscuring Ysaÿe’s work, the transcription became an elucidation of it. I must confess to understanding the original better than I had before – and how great it was to hear it without any intonation problems! Just as each of the Ysaÿe Sonatas was dedicated to a great violinist (this one originally to Enescu) Mr. Kvitko dedicated this transcription to “the most important violinist” in his life, his mother. It was a special moment.

Another question “why?” might be elicited by the engagement of dancers for the Escenas Románticas by Granados, because those of us spoiled by the suave elegance of, say, Alicia De Larrocha’s renditions of these solo pieces may feel that the music says more than enough without visual distraction; Mr. Kvitko, however, clearly thinks outside such boxes. It also may even be silly to ask “why” when creative spirits such as he simply DO – a quality for which we may usually be thankful!

Kvitko’s interpretation was an expansive one, even if not as nuanced as I’d like. His playing maximized the drama, as the whole ballet concept encouraged it to do. The dancers, Lucas Segovia and Kara Zimmerman of the Joffrey Ballet of Chicago, offered what amounted to a half-ballet and half-pantomime creation of various scenes of love, including the first glance, the rebuff, the seduction, the celebration, and finally the settling of passions into lasting love. Some of the earlier pantomiming (including props of newspaper, chairs, and flowers), while charming, seemed to undermine the intimacy that I treasure in this musical set, but the last movement, the heartfelt and Chopinesque Epilogo, was quite moving. It was also interesting to behold dancers at Weill Hall, something I’ve not experienced before.

The second half opened with the pianist’s own transcription of Trepak from Mussorgsky’s “Songs and Dances of Death” (dedicated to the composer Ricky Ian Gordon, who was present). It was another miniature one would hear nowhere else, to me an asset to any recital. In the story behind the music, the protagonist dies, so the music was that of tragedy – or as Kvitko wryly introduced it, “it’s Russian.” It was well transcribed and performed, and a good introduction to the rest of the program.

The substance of the second half was Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition (the pictures being a nice parallel to the “Escenas” aspect of the first half). It is a work that Mr. Kvitko has recorded, to very favorable critical response. This evening’s performance was an “over the top” one, with almost unremitting massive and prolonged fortes, a test to the pianist’s staying power. Even the Ballet of the Unhatched Chicks was larger than life, raising concerns about how the Hut on Hen’s Legs (Baba-Yaga) would top it – but as it turned out, Mr. Kvitko had more than enough stamina to follow the genetically modified chicks with steroidal hens! Where some wonderful piano dynamics did impress was in the end of “Bydlo” where one could imagine cattle carts disappearing into the distance: the fadeout was so well paced in fine gradations that one guessed that such a conception might have been helped by Mr. Kvitko’s experience with the wonders of audio technology. To hear that effect transferred to a perfect extended diminuendo on the piano was a treat. One can be confident that Mr. Kvitko has more of such treats in store, in whatever pursuits he undertakes, whether in producing, composing, or performing.

The end of the Great Gate of Kiev was met with rousing applause, bravos, and a standing ovation. Encores included another ballet performance (to a Piazzollaesque piano work) and a lightning-fast Doctor Gradus ad Parnassum by Debussy.

Piano Transcription of Solo Violin Sonata No. 3 “Ballade”

http://youtu.be/L5cumr1a32Q

Pianist Sergei Kvitko with Lucas Segovia & Kara Zimmerman of Joffrey Ballet of Chicago perform last movement of Enrique Granados’ Escenas Románticas – Epílogo.
Filmed live at Cook Recital Hall of College of Music, Michigan State University.

 http://youtu.be/GJ64-aaqQRU

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

New York Concert Artists & Associates in Review

New York Concert Artists & Associates: Evenings of Piano Concerti, Season V
Good Shepherd-Faith Presbyterian Church, New York, N.Y.
May 17, 2013

 

To attend one of NYCA’s Evenings of Piano Concerti is to feel part of something quite special, and the concerts are clearly on the upswing if one can judge by full halls. A recent evening was typical in some ways, in its abundance of exciting virtuoso repertoire and passionate soloists (and orchestra), including some at beginnings of their careers plus those farther along in forging worldwide reputations. The more widely known name on this evening’s program was Alessio Bax, scheduled to perform the Piano Concerto, Op. 38 of Samuel Barber – an exciting prospect indeed – though in a last minute decision that was not explained, the Barber was replaced by Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2. This substitution may have had something to do with another change, the replacement of scheduled conductor Matthew Oberstein by guest conductor Miriam Burns, but it’s anyone’s guess. In a way, such changes make for an even more edge-of-the-seat intensity than usual (which is saying a lot), but emotions were certainly running high.

You know it will be a high voltage evening when the “starter” work is Liszt’s E-flat Piano Concerto, often reserved for the final splash. In the hands of Jeanette Aufiero it was full of high drama, setting the tone for an evening of virtuosity. Ms. Aufiero produces warm lyrical lines and an enormous sound for raging octaves and arpeggios, just as this piece requires. It must have been a joy for this NYCA Orchestra’s exuberant brass section to be able to let loose without having to play “tiptoe around the soloist.” It was a performance of contagious energy, ablaze with passion that threw caution to the winds. There are those who deplore this piece as a muscle-flexing vehicle, but even the most diehard Lisztophobes would have found the infectious spirit hard to resist. The program included no soloist biographies, but did list that Ms. Aufiero won the 2012 NYCA Rising Artists Concerto Presentation.

Conductor Miriam Burns was simply amazing throughout in her responses to the work’s quicksilver changes, while drawing empathetic collaboration from the orchestra – especially in view of the short notice! A quadruple-concerto evening is something of a herculean feat  – ask any conductor about the extra dimensions and concerns brought in by a soloist, and multiply by four! Maestra Burns nonetheless brought tireless and balletic energy to it all.

The excellent young soloist in the Rachmaninoff First Concerto was Saskia Giorgioni, who sailed through the piece’s technical challenges while bringing genuine tenderness to its yearning phrases. One of the wonderful aspects of these multi-soloist evenings is that they are like multiple debuts, each pianist in the spotlight geared to the highest degree of polish and living each note as if it were the last. Ms. Giorgioni clearly knew each note of this demanding piece inside and out and invested herself in each one. She was able to handle nearly all the ensemble surprises that came her way (an inevitable challenge in this work) and to bend accordingly. At the same time she showed an assured solo presence that should guarantee her similar engagements in the future. She was listed as having also won the 2012 NYCA Rising Artists Concerto Presentation.

If one had to make a suggestion on the format of these evenings, it might be that the number of concerti be reduced to, say, three (depending on length) with perhaps a short orchestra work thrown in. While it is an amazing feast to hear four fine soloists in a row, there is an inevitable disservice done to one or two of them. After two or more “no holds barred” performances, the edge of one’s musical appetite is somewhat dulled, and the ears need a break not quite provided by intermission. Presumably the Beethoven Concerto No. 2 after intermission provided the sonic palate cleanser, but one doesn’t usually like to think of Beethoven as such.

It may have been the intense awareness of what preceded (Liszt and Rachmaninoff) that lent an extra edge to the performance of the Beethoven by Jingyi Zhang. She is an outstanding young player of considerable achievement and polish; somehow, though, for this piece I wanted a slightly more settled classical restraint. Her playing was admirable in its brilliant pearly passagework, but it occasionally seemed to press ahead too restlessly for this listener, approaching breathlessness at times.  The bright sound from the hall’s piano and live acoustics also helped bring the piece into the realm of slightly later Romantic works, and one couldn’t help imagining how wonderful this pianist would sound playing Mendelssohn or Grieg here. It seems highly likely that we will hear more from this pianist, so I look forward to hearing her again in a variety of repertoire. Ms. Zhang is listed as Winner of 2012 NYCA’s International Concerto Competition for Pianists.

Alessio Bax, the featured headliner of the evening, is enjoying a burgeoning career helped along by First Prize at the Leeds and the Hamamatsu International Piano Competitions and an Avery Fisher Career Grant. Having never heard him live, I was looking forward to this, as he is widely considered an artist to watch. The experience did not disappoint. While I would have preferred hearing him in the less-frequently performed Barber Concerto, he has much to bring to Rachmaninoff’s Second Piano Concerto, which says a lot given this piece’s enormous popularity. One could argue with some points, including his rather straitlaced interpretation of the second movement’s octave lines – but such decisions are easily justifiable, if not universally embraced. All in all, it was a performance of considerable poetry and brilliance, which one would never guess was “last minute” – except possibly in a few last movement ensemble hiccups. Though his restrained interpretation may have been somewhat undercut by the high decibel levels of the evening’s earlier performances, he emerged as a sincere and individual player with a formidable technique, just as one would expect.

Kudos go to all the performers and to Klara Min, the founder and Artistic Director. These evenings are a gargantuan achievement.

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Adamant Music School: 72nd Anniversary in Review

Adamant Music School: 72nd Anniversary
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, N.Y.
March 10, 2013
 
Tadeusz Domanowski

Tadeusz Domanowski

 
 

 

Each year in Vermont’s historic quarry village of Adamant, pianists of all stripes converge for practicing, lessons, master classes, and relaxation at the Adamant Music School. For 72 years the school has demonstrated the strength of their local granite in continuing its summer program, as well as its tradition of annual New York recitals, not an easy feat in this difficult economy. This season Adamant presented eight pianists in Weill Recital Hall, including faculty and student participants. There was music of Schumann, Liszt, Debussy, Howard Bashaw (b.1957), and Marc-André Hamelin (the Etude No. 5), but I was there only for the last two works of Prokofiev and Chopin. Pianists Joni Chan and Tadeusz Domanowski represented their school well in what was a proud occasion for all involved.

Joni Chan

Joni Chan

Joni Chan performed the first movement (Allegro moderato) from Prokofiev’s Piano Sonata No. 6 in A Major, Op. 82. She gave a measured and well-considered performance, which showed her to be a player of intelligence and integrity. Ms. Chan earned her BM, MM, and DMA at Indiana University’s Jacobs School of Music and is currently teaching at Vincennes University in Indiana. As her biography states, she was recipient of a performer’s certificate for “outstanding graduate performance” from the piano faculty of the IU in 2006 and first prize in IU’s Mozart Concerto Competition in 2004, among other distinctions. She has performed widely throughout the US, Canada, and Hong Kong as soloist and collaborator. At the risk of overdoing the references to granite, Ms. Chan struck one as an extremely solid performer, one who has left no stone unturned in her study of the score (not to be confused with the violinists who famously leave “no tone un-Sterned”). All punning aside, nary a tone was even smudged, and one could probably take dictation from her scrupulously honest reading. Ms. Chan also showed plenty of strength in the fuller percussive dynamics, though my favorite performances of this work (the first of the three War Sonatas) have still greater projection of its dark irony. I also prefer to hear the Sonata in its totality, though one understands the time constraints in a group recital. Perhaps a stand-alone ten-minute work might fare better program-wise next time, but in any event Ms. Chan did a commendable job. Her thoroughness will be an asset to her students, and her steely reliability in performance bodes well for busy concert life.

To conclude the Adamant program, Tadeusz Domanowski played Chopin’s Scherzo No. 2 in B-flat minor (Op. 31). His was a fluent and confident reading that concluded the program with sweep and polish. Mr. Domanowski hails from Gliwice, Poland and is a graduate of the Frédéric Chopin Academy of Music in Warsaw.  His performances as soloist with orchestra, chamber musician, and recitalist, have taken him to an impressive array of festivals in France, China, Greece, Germany, the Czech Republic, and Sweden, as well as the US, where he currently continues his studies at NYU. He has excellent technical facility at his disposal, combined with a good stylistic sense and strong stage presence. Brilliant and refined, Mr. Domanowski’s interpretation of the Chopin could also be described as suave. There was, in fact such a pervasive sense of ease that at times some passagework seemed almost too silken for this listener, leaving one wanting more of a sense of traction; this is a highly personal preference, however, as were some differences of opinion on rhythm and rubato in the more meditative A Major sections. I would have loved more sense of exploration at times, including the quiet end of the spectrum in leggiero passagework. A secure player such as Mr. Domanowski has all the groundwork in place for such musical journeys. Though it is hard to add to the performance history of a piece like this, with Rubinstein, Argerich, and countless other greats (followed by Kissin, Yundi Li, and more), Mr Domanowski undoubtedly has the potential to add his own special stamp. I look forward to hearing him again and heartily congratulate the Adamant Music School on both fine performers.

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Fourth Olympic Challenge Competition in Review

Fourth Olympic Challenge Competition
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, N.Y.
February 10, 2013
 

The title “Olympic Challenge Competition” may seem to suggest athletics rather than the more subjective field of music, but the name does suit the heroic efforts showcased recently in a concert of its young winners, ages 5-18, presented by the “You Need Music” Educational and Performing Enterprise. Offering a great incentive to practice and a much-needed chance to perform, “You Need Music” has been growing, according to the director, to draw students from all over the country. As the presenter’s website itself states, ”’You Need Music’ offers the unique opportunity to play at Carnegie Hall for children who put their effort in learning music without a goal to become professionals, but for the sheer love of performing.” Whether or not on a professional track, the twenty-five soloists on violin, cello, and piano (selected from DVD screening and live audition) had clearly invested tremendous energy and discipline to reach levels that were in some instances of a professional quality. Several players, as one would expect for the age range, experienced struggles with technique, focus, intonation, and other matters, but the level was generally high and in all cases was promising. Their concert at Weill Hall, as well as being a “victory lap” of sorts, was to further select three top winners to continue to a February 24th recital at Merkin Hall, with monetary prizes. As it turned out there were two Special Mentions (without monetary prizes) as well. I would have added several more, or exchanged one or two, but such is the nature of competitions. Having adjudicated for four hours for a different organization on the same day, I came to this event with many contest-related issues already in mind.

First of all, this audience at Weill Hall was not told the individual ages of performers, though one could hazard some guesses (and there were no college students allowed). It was also not clear whether the three judges were privy to age information, and one was uncertain whether awards were being made based on current development or potential for later success. Knowing numeric ages can be prejudicial – as in the psychologically misleading single-digit 9 versus double-digit 10 (with perhaps a birthdate difference of only a few months), making one child seem comparatively precocious; there can be equal misjudgments, though, on a visual premise, for instance assumptions based on height. The ideal solution may be a single artistic standard, but how is that really possible within a 13-year age range? One hopes for true discernment, but the cited Olympian “criteria” from the contest’s website, comparing musical qualities to attributes of Zeus, Poseidon, and Athena, seemed not to be terribly relevant or helpful in this case. It may add to the administrative work, but I would recommend a few separate age categories. It would also make possible eliminations more palatable for the older players.

Among these more mature players, William Hume, pianist, would have been one of my choices as a winner. He delivered Kapustin’s very difficult Concert Etude Op. 40, No. 1, with the fluency and ease of a veteran performer. He could certainly have a musical profession in his future, so I was disappointed that he was not chosen for something. Also among the teenagers, Mika Lin, violinist, gave an account of Bach’s Sonata No. 1 (Adagio and Presto) that was commendable for a pre-college-aged student. Pianist Orcin Akman handled the challenges of Liszt’s “Gnomenreigen” with such spirit and clarity that I had her in mind for the top winner, while pianist Deniz Akman savored and explored every ounce of drama in his rendition of Rachmaninoff’s Prelude in C# minor.

Several players were outstanding among the (seemingly) much younger set, including pianist William Chen, performing Liszt’s La Leggierezza, and violinist Matthew Ho, taking on the challenging Praeludium and Allegro of Kreisler. Also impressive were very young pianists Joy Xu (the first I’ve ever beheld playing Debussy’s Dr. Gradus ad Parnassum with the aid of a pedal extender meant for the tiniest players), Annie Gu, who opened fearlessly with Chopin’s Polonaise in G minor, and Dylan Wang, highly self-assured for one so young in Bach’s Concerto in A Major, BWV 1055. Amid the concert’s torrent of notes, young pianist Darina Korneeva played a relatively simple Sarabande (by a composer listed as “Lak”) with genuine tenderness of feeling. One has years to learn octaves and scales, but this little one saw that no note was wasted.

In the end, the First Prize went to William Chen and the Second to Orcin Akman, both mentioned above. Third Prize went to Eugenia Zhang, a violinist who had bravely tackled Lalo’s Symphonie Espagnole (first movement). Special mention went to Deniz Akman and Joseph Maldjian, the latter who had played Shostakovich’s “Hurdy-Gurdy” from “Dances of the Dolls.”

Judges were Ilya Kazanstev (piano), Aisha Dossumova (violin), and Slava Znatchenii (oboe). It was a refreshing touch to have them precede the children’s recital with performances of their own, setting a high bar. Opening was the Solo de Concert for oboe of Émile Paladilhe, followed by Kupkovic’s Souvenir for violin (think Vaudeville meets Paganini). Both works were admirably accompanied by Dmitri Korneev at the piano. Closing the jurors’ performances was Mr. Kazantsev (whom I reviewed favorably about five years ago), tossing off the Kreisler-Rachmaninoff Liebesfreud beautifully.

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Jean Muller in Review

Jean Muller, piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, N.Y.
January 18, 2013
 
Jean Muller, pianist

Jean Muller

Following the 2012 release of a well-received all-Chopin recording on the Fondamenta label, Luxembourgian pianist Jean Muller kicked off a world tour with largely the same repertoire in a fine recital at New York’s Weill Hall. It is not easy to offer fresh perspectives on the pillars of the Chopin piano literature, particularly after the composer’s bicentennial blitz of 2010, but Mr. Muller appears oblivious to any need to be different (or the same, for that matter); it is enough to be oneself, as Mr. Muller appears to know. These days, the slow burn of being a sincere, dedicated musician is almost revolutionary in its own right.

His program’s first half was made up of the complete Ballades. His were nuanced, at times understated, renditions of these musical treasures. With so many cranked up performances going around of what one could almost call “McBallades” at this point, this listener was relieved to discover that there was nothing formulaic or facile about Muller’s interpretations. Starting the G Minor Ballade (Op. 23) with a more pensive, deliberate first theme than one usually hears, Muller brought it a searching quality, as if encountering its mysteries for the first time. It was highly individual, without being distorted or eccentric. He played with a fluent, natural sense of rubato. Occasionally there were tonal balance issues exacerbated by a somewhat thin treble sound, but in each case one sensed that decisions had been made to favor overall dynamic pacing over individual cantabile lines. Indeed, the pacing toward climaxes was achieved skillfully, with refreshing attention to the work’s inherent logic and integrity. Technical hurdles were handled neatly without virtuoso excess – though perhaps with a bit too much caution for this listener.

The second Ballade (Op. 38) was similar in its strengths. Thoughtfully paced and with no exaggeration or bombast, it reflected the refined poetry of the work. Because the piece alternates quiet lyricism with tempests, this listener wished in turbulent sections for greater unleashing of this pianist’s full resources (as heard later on the program), but it seemed that Muller was holding his energies in reserve. Perhaps when performing all four Ballades, this is inevitable. The brilliant and dramatic coda was negotiated neatly, but with a bit more abandon it could have truly caught fire.

The third Ballade (Op. 47) was a highlight, not surprisingly, as it benefited from this pianist’s thoughtful, civilized approach. The famous rocking theme (or some say “cantering”) was especially winsome, and Muller built the ensuing drama well. Similarly the final Ballade (Op. 52), arguably the most challenging of the group to hold together, was unified with mastery. The chorale-like lull just before the ferocious coda was done perhaps more beautifully than I’ve ever heard – it’s prayerfulness stemming not merely from the perils ahead, as with some performances!

The second half included shorter works, framed by two Polonaises, the F-sharp minor, Op. 44 and the A-flat, Op. 53. Highlights were the poignant Mazurka in A minor Op. 17, No. 4 and the Waltz in A-flat Major, Op. 69, No. 1, both expertly phrased, the latter with especially golden-toned melodic beauty. The old chestnut Waltz in D-flat (Op. 64, No. 1, the “Minute Waltz”) had just the right élan, and the Posthumous Largo in E-flat Major added novelty to the otherwise widely known offerings. Also heard were the Mazurkas in A minor, op. 67, No. 4, and in C Major, Op. 68, No. 1, both handled with polish and sensitivity. Happily the final “Heroic” Polonaise found the pianist letting go more, though still with expert control as he released torrents of left-hand octaves with riveting evenness. It was worth the wait.  Rousing ovations elicited encores of Chopin’s B-flat minor Nocturne and Fantaisie-Impromptu.

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Rutgers’ Mason Gross School of the Arts: Claude Debussy 150th Anniversary Year in Review

Rutgers’ Mason Gross School of the Arts: Claude Debussy 150th Anniversary Year
Complete Piano Preludes
Min Kwon, Director
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, N.Y.
December 19, 2012
 
Min Kwon, Director; Photo Credit : Doug Boyd

Min Kwon, Director; Photo Credit : Doug Boyd

 

Marking the 150th anniversary of the birth of Debussy (1862-1918), the year 2012 has seen many concerts with various tributes to Debussy’s music and a smaller number that were all-Debussy programs. The latter type of concert has been a dicey proposition in general, with the monomania leaving this music lover with intense cravings for Beethoven, Shostakovich, and others. It was therefore an exhilarating surprise to discover that a recital of both books of Debussy Preludes (24 in all) turned out to be one of my favorite concert experiences in memory, thanks to Rutgers’ Mason Gross School of the Arts and the inspired direction of Ms. Min Kwon. Their all-Debussy concert at Weill Hall was – dare we use this word? – perfection.

Keys to the concert’s success were several. While a single-player recital can risk becoming too much of one musical personality, Mason Gross presented seventeen young artists of different ages and backgrounds, all from the Rutgers piano program, each player miraculously matched to his particular Prelude(s). One wonders how the assignment of music to each player was accomplished, but there seems to have been a musical equivalent to Central Casting involved; all that variety, however, was in service to Debussy’s art. All players were well taught, well prepared, and completely immersed in the elements of Debussy that they represented.

Another inspiration was the avoidance of fanfare and applause; what could have become a noisy marathon, with entries and exits of 17 players, became seamless and unified. Though the diverse performers’ biographies were those of opera coach, competition firebrand, and Music Education student, the players followed one another quietly and as equal participants in the masterpiece. The element of ego or comparison was entirely missing, and a listener could focus, undistracted, on the multi-faceted marvel that is Debussy. In lieu of applause, host and raconteur Jerome Lowenthal offered elegant and informative introductions to each work, complete with a sprinkling of humor and verse. Weill Hall became an intimate French gallery, with Mr. Lowenthal as docent and the musical art streaming on and off the stage.

All players deserve mention, so what follows is necessarily a hasty blur, and not always sequential. Zin Bang brought restrained sensuality to the Danseuses de Delphe and appropriate delicacy to Voiles. Robert Grohman conjured the mystery of Le vent dans la plaine admirably, and in Les sons et les parfums tournent dans l’air du soir he brought his listeners into the realm of synesthesia. Soo Yeon Cho followed with a sprightly account of Les collines d’Anacapri, highlighting an aspect of Debussy worlds away from the heavier Baudelairian fragrances. The beautiful hush of snow was created next by Marilia Caputo in Des pas sur la neige, setting up contrast perfectly for Diyi Tang, who projected great drama in Ce qu’a vu le vent d’ouest. Mr. Tang also closed the program with Feux d’artifice, another tour de force well suited to his brilliant style.

On the lighter, gentler side were La fille aux cheveux de lin played with perfect innocence by Sohee Kwon, La sérénade interrompue, given humor and color by Salvatore Mallimo, and La danse de Puck both dreaming and impish in Rebecca Choi’s hands (which later in the evening brought life to the siren Ondine). Minstrels was as quixotic as could be in the reading of Dae Hyung Ahn, who also gave a fine performance of Les fées sont d’exquises danseuses on the second half. Bringing gravity to the first half was the formidable musical imagery of La cathédrale engloutie, conveyed beautifully by Erikson Rojas through his own sonic world.

The second half seemed to fly by, even with some of the dreamier, more cryptic Préludes. Azusa Hokugo’s readings of Brouillards and Feuilles Mortes were polished and sensitive, as were Junko Ichikawa’s La Terrasse des audiences du clair de lune, Hyewon Kate Lim’s Bruyères, and Grace Shin’s Canope, with its evocations of an ancient world. Erikson Rojas again shone in La puerta del vino, as did Kelly Yu-Chieh Lin in Les tierces alternées, less evocative due to its focus on a single interval, but brilliant nonetheless.  Some levity broke up the dreaming with General Lavine -eccentric played jauntily by Sojung Lee and Hommage à S. Pickwick, Esq., P.P.M.P.C., well realized by Eunsil Kim.  

All in all, it was an extraordinary musical project, unique, in fact. Such an evening might be imitated on the basis of the abovementioned format, but without Mr. Lowenthal and this particular chemistry of performers, it simply will not be replicated. If you missed it, all I can say is, “c’est dommage!”

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Ivan Ženatý, violin, and James Vaughan, piano in Review

Ivan Ženatý, violin, and James Vaughan, piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall
December 3, 2012
 
Ivan Ženatý, violin Photo: Tomáš Lébr

Ivan Ženatý, violin; Photo: Tomáš Lébr

When excellent Czech violinist Ivan Ženatý strides onstage with his pianist James Vaughan, one is in for an evening of artistry, probably whatever the program; presented by Mid-America Productions in an all-Czech program in Weill Hall, the duo brought their audience twofold pleasure. Underappreciated works by Antonin Dvořák, Leoš Janáček, and Bedřich Smetana are rarely combined as an entire recital here in the U.S., but if they were, it is unlikely that they would be performed as well. Mr. Ženatý, veteran performer claiming a large array of prizes, recordings, and collaborations, was recently appointed to the faculty of the Cleveland Institute of Music, having taught also at the Hochschule für Musik Carl Maria von Weber in Dresden. He is a performer who clearly endows each note with a world of experience, though with apparent ease, and it is heartening to know that a performer of such musical integrity will be transmitting some of his artistry to the next generation.

Polished and elegant from music to stage presence, the duo filled their first half of the program with all Dvořák (1841-1904).  The composer’s Romantic Pieces for violin and piano, Op. 75, B. 150 (1886-87), first composed for two violins and viola (with movements originally entitled Cavatina, Capriccio, Romance, and Elegy), were heard in the composer’s own violin-piano arrangement. Mr. Ženatý projected his phrases with a mellow, cantabile violin sound on a 1740 Giuseppe Guarneri del Jesu violin (courtesy of the Harmony Foundation of New York). A feeling of gemütlichkeit permeated the intimate Weill Hall – somewhat in keeping with Dvorak’s own home readings of these pieces. At first the balance seemed an issue, and the piano (with the lid on the full stick) seemed a bit overwhelming, but in a very brief time the duo melded perfectly, and this listener was glad for the clarity in each detail of what was a true collaboration. Mr. Vaughan particularly impressed with his flexibility in adjusting his feather-light repeated notes  – in this piano’s rich middle register, no less – to each nuance of the violin.  He was outstanding in the most difficult dovetailing. Ženatý ramped up the energy for the quixotic second movement, and the third, wonderfully Schubertian with its gentle lyricism, was a dream. The duo conveyed the mournful spirit of the fourth movement with haunting beauty, and one could feel the audience sighing collectively afterwards.

Dvořák’s Sonata in F Major for violin and piano, Op. 57, moved the recital into more involved and weighty writing. It brought more challenges of all kinds, and they were handled well, with only occasional glitches in intonation. Mr. Ženatý and Mr. Vaughan brought out the Brahmsian breadth and nobility of this work, challenging the program notes’ assertion that, unlike Beethoven, Brahms, and others, this Sonata “has neither architectural grandeur nor higher unity in its contrasting ideas.” On a side note, one wonders whether such a comment is the best way to maximize the listeners’ experience as good program notes can do! The performers, on the other hand, advocated for the piece with each lovingly shaped phrase, and this listener would enjoy hearing them do it again.

After intermission came the Sonata for violin and piano JW VII/7 by Leoš Janáček (1854-1928), a work using folk elements in a dark, at times violent way. Just as the programming reflected a broad range of Czech musical style, this duo’s expressive range was explored to the fullest. While neither performer resorted to demonstrative excess, there was plenty of drama in the sound itself. The first movement captured the wrestling intensity of the jagged, even spasmodic motives. It was an impassioned performance, as this piece demands, reflecting the troubled times of Europe in 1914. The second movement, Ballada, found the duo by contrast on a journey at times nostalgic and at times desperately longing. Long, melodic lines were soulfully shaped, to heartbreaking effect in Ženatý’s hands. In the third movement, the sounds of war were evoked in brutal and strident accented blows, which Ženatý and Vaughan played to the hilt; as Janacek himself wrote, “I could just about hear sound of the steel clashing in my troubled head.” The final quiet utterances of the fourth movement left the audience again suspended in silence.

A comforting close came with Bedřich Smetana’s “Z domoviny” (“From My Homeland”) benefiting from more of Ženatý’s golden-toned phrases and Vaughan’s expert support. It built to a brilliant and spirited close capping off a richly satisfying evening. Prolonged applause was rewarded with Dvořák ‘s Mazurek in E minor as an encore.

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Kyung-Hye Baek in Review

 Kyung-Hye Baek, piano
Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York
October 15, 2012 
 
Kyung-Hye Baek

Kyung-Hye Baek

 

If musical career-building were analogous to cooking, Kyung-Hye Baek might be said to have “the recipe.” Among the sought-after ingredients these days – conservatory studies (a doctorate from Peabody), the requisite recital and orchestral performances (various appearances in Korea, the U.S., and Europe), a sprinkling of competition prizes (the Daegu Music Association and others), and the cherry on top of a Weill Hall New York debut – all of these are now counted among her credits. Throw in an elegant stage presence, and the table might seem to be set; what remains to be seen, however, is the extent of her musical passion and where it will take her and her audiences.

The musical menu on Ms. Baek’s recent Weill Hall recital, while varied, consisted of mainstays of the piano repertoire: two Scarlatti Sonatas (the perennially popular B Minor K. 27 and D minor, K. 141), Haydn’s buoyant Sonata in G Major, Hob. XVI: 40, Beethoven’s stormy Sonata Op. 57 (the “Appassionata”), a set of lyrical Schubert-Liszt songs, and Prokofiev’s thorny Sonata No. 6. On paper, this seemed a program of huge range, as one is accustomed to large differences of sound and approach from one style to the next, but the end result in Ms. Baek’s hands was somewhat more homogeneous than one expected, with all works characterized by a similar glossy polish. Each piece was played with secure memory, reliable fingers, and a sound that was never strident. At climaxes, Ms. Baek did use the bass resonance of the hall’s Steinway to good advantage (if sometimes overwhelming the treble in the Scarlatti and Beethoven), but one could have enjoyed a larger dynamic range.

Among some high points were some excellent repeated notes, as heard in the Scarlatti D Minor Sonata, aka the “Toccata,” and also in the Haydn. Ms. Baek never overdid the Haydn’s inherent humor, but let the structural “punch lines” speak for themselves.  One wanted more contrast at times, but the Presto was full of drive and momentum, if occasionally a bit too hectic for this listener.

Beethoven’s Appassionata Sonata was performed rather conservatively, missing some of its usual fire, but in terms of neatness and care, it lacked for little. One sometimes wonders whether proliferating doctoral piano programs might not be prolonging the sort of “defensive playing” that stems from extra years of jury exams and evaluations, shielding young players from the excitement of “going for broke” before live audiences. At any rate, if one is offering chiefly mainstream repertoire, there is additional reason to try to bring it a new dimension interpretively. These new dimensions may come with time and freedom from academic boundaries. Meanwhile, the pianist has a more than solid grounding and tremendous untapped potential.

Ms. Baek showed fine discipline in the voicing of her Schubert-Liszt, playing Ständchen, Gretchen am Spinnrade, Aufenthalt, and Auf dem Wasser zu singen, and these were also highlights.  She showed a good deal of patience and maturity in her weaving of melodic lines and created a lovely silken sound. One wonders whether there might be Schubert Sonatas and chamber music in Ms. Baek’s future, judging by the lyricism in which she seems so at home.

The evening closed with the first of Prokofiev’s “War Sonatas” -given a refined performance – too refined, in fact, for this listener’s taste. An angry and craggy piece, it usually evokes more in the way of outbursts, but Ms. Baek stressed its cerebral aspects. Though this listener wanted more, the work did close with strength. Warm applause elicited an encore of “October” from “The Seasons” by Tchaikovsky.

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

New York Concert Artists Associates: Rising Artists Evening II in Review

New York Concert Artists Associates: Rising Artists Evening II
Jayoung Hong, piano; Jiaxin Tian, piano; Mariko Miyazaki, piano; Kazuo Kanemaki, conductor
Good Shepherd-Faith Presbyterian Church
June 2, 2012

What could be a better way to spend an evening than to hear – after Tchaikovsky’s Serenade for Strings (Waltz) – four accomplished pianists playing four favorites of the piano concerto literature? Two concerti by Mozart (K. 466 and K. 503, followed by Schumann’s A Minor Concerto and Mendelssohn’s G Minor Concerto, made for a jam-packed evening. One couldn’t help thinking that such an evening should be required listening for young New York music students. Here are four pieces (K503 perhaps less so) that young players frequently attempt, though the playing requires the mastery of veterans, and the venue offers good vantage points from which to compare and study the different pianists’ approaches. It is also not every day that one hears so many piano concerti in a row played with such considerable polish.

The programming was a dream, starting with pianist Jayoung Hong playing Mozart’s glorious Piano Concerto No. 25 in C Major, K.503. A relatively large work from an extremely fertile period in Mozart’s composing, it requires a grasp of large structure as well as sensitivity to its wealth of surprises – along with complete technical control, of course. Jayoung Hong played it with seeming ease and, except for one minor mishap attributable to ensemble distractions, delivered a fine performance. If one could sum up in a word one of the loveliest qualities in her performance it might be seamlessness. She demonstrated a fluidity that carried her effortlessly from section to section, harmony to harmony, without a note of hesitancy or roughness. On the other hand it was this very quality that left me wanting more delineation. One sometimes wanted more rhythmic differentiation (for example between triplet-eighths and sixteenths, even in the opening main theme) and later, in the flurry of third movement passagework one wanted more demarcation at points of melodic return. There are several schools of thought on this, but all in all, Ms. Hong played with a grace that suits Mozart’s style. She seemed truly to enjoy the music most by the third movement. Occasionally there was some sketchiness in the strings, and the winds were sometimes overpowering (especially where marked pianissimo at the Andante’s close), but conductor Kazuo Kanemaki held things together well.

Going in reverse chronology, Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 20 in D Minor K.466, came next, with Jiaxin Tian as soloist. While I am not a fan of “listening with one’s eyes” it was hard not to notice this pianist’s musical responses transporting her even during the opening tutti, before she played a note. This oneness with the orchestra and the music is a gift and pervaded her playing. Certainly she had all the technical nuts and bolts in order, but what brought her playing to a higher level was her unwavering passion and commitment to the work. Yet again, though, at times an asset can be a drawback, and I occasionally thought the piano should be less “one” with the orchestra and more soloistic. Particularly in the first movement’s opening theme, which could stand being more full-bodied, the melody was a bit wan at the peaks. The consistently receding tops of melodies had me wondering whether perhaps there might have been a pinky injury – but this pianist seemed quite purposeful in her performance. She lacked for nothing in the dramatic crescendo passages, and that “oneness” came in handy in some beautifully Beethovenian sweeps where she meshed perfectly with the orchestra. This concerto is often thought of as one of the most Beethovenian of Mozart’s works, and it is not surprising that Beethoven left cadenzas for it (one which she performed in the first movement). Her nicely ornamented Romanza led to an extremely fast final movement, which brought the audience to its feet.

In a change from the printed program Jin Kyung Park played Schumann’s Piano Concerto in A Minor right after intermission, instead of last, as programmed, but this reviewer is not assigned to review that performance. The program closed with Mariko Miyazaki playing Mendelssohn’s Piano Concerto No. 1 in G Minor. If some imagined this work to be too lightweight to conclude a concerto program (especially after Schumann’s A Minor masterpiece), a surprise was in store. Ms. Miyazaki played this oft-maligned work with fresh intensity and extreme brilliance. Bold and assured, she took the reins, leading the orchestra with ultra-clear downbeats and clean and precise pianism. Curmudgeons have often criticized this work for lacking depth or substance (a viewpoint I don’t happen to share), but Ms. Miyazaki treated it as a great work, and it repaid her. Even naysayers would have to concede that the sheer beauty of the piano writing, when perfectly executed, is a thrill akin to looking at a multitude of glistening chandeliers – call that a guilty pleasure, pianistically speaking. Ms. Miyazaki’s nearly flawless rendition was a pleasure indeed. She stormed and sparkled, and with equal poise and artistry projected the piece’s soulful slow movement. The final movement was a romp that concluded the program on a definite high, and again the audience was brought to its feet.

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY