Personal Demons: Lowell Liebermann, pianist, in music of Liszt, Schubert, Busoni, Miloslav Kabeláč, and Lowell Liebermann, Steinway & Sons 30172

Turning in Time: Kinga Augustyn, violinist, in music of Elliott Carter, Luciano Berio, Krzysztof Penderecki, Grażyna Bacewicz, Isang Yun, and Debra Kaye, Centaur Records CRC3836

American Violin Sonatas: Ting-Lan Chen, violin; Nathan Buckner, piano, in music of Rubin Goldmark and Alexander Reinagle, Albany Records TROY1840

News of quarantines and lockdowns may accentuate what musicians have not been doing, but what some have been doing is quite exciting, and three recordings that landed in my mailbox are good examples. Two are of new or unfamiliar violin music (solo and with piano) released within the past few months, and one is a two-CD set of all solo piano music to be released February 5.

Though the three recordings are quite different, they all share the qualities of exploration – exploration of deferred personal repertoire dreams (or “personal demons” in the case of Lowell Liebermann’s CD), exploration of expanding roles as performer and composer (in Personal Demons as well as American Violin Sonatas), and the exploration of how our music connects us to other periods in history (in all three, but overtly in Kinga Augustyn’s Turning in Time).

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Starting with the upcoming release, it is an honor to recommend the double-CD set on the Steinway & Sons label entitled Personal Demons, featuring world-renowned composer Lowell Liebermann (lowellliebermann.com), one I’ve admired for several decades. Here he is heard in the role of pianist. Though there is nothing new about Lowell Liebermann’s pianistic strengths (as the idiomatic keyboard writing in his compositions will attest), Personal Demons marks his first solo CD in which he is the pianist, and he is outstanding.

In addition to playing his own Gargoyles, Apparitions, and Nocturne, No. 10, Op. 99 – an education for those who have played these – he offers a selection of formidable works by other composers. As Mr. Liebermann writes, “Personal Demons consists of music that I have been personally haunted by – pieces written by other composers that have preoccupied me and inspired me for most of my compositional career, ones that ‘I wish I wrote.’ Framing these are three of my own pieces that have special significance for me.”

Least known on the two discs may be the Preludes, Op. 30 of Czech composer Miloslav Kabeláč (1908-1979), which bear some kinship to the music of Kabeláč’s countryman Janáček. Kabeláč has a highly sympathetic interpreter in Lowell Liebermann, and these miniatures emerge as treasures. Some musicians may be inspired to purchase the set for these gems alone, but Mr. Liebermann closes the first disc with the hair-raising Totentanz of Franz Liszt, which he plays with ferocity – and then there’s disc two.

On the set’s second disc, after his own marvelous Apparitions, Mr. Liebermann plays the Variations on a Theme of Hüttenbrenner, D. 576, by Franz Schubert, a composer whose music he cherishes, as he reveals in his personal and informative program notes. The D. 576 Variations are striking for their harmonic twists and turns, and though some pianists (the relatively few who play them) tend to smooth things over as if to disguise what may be perceived as quirks, they are all consciously laid out here in what is a faithful and insightful performance.

As if these works were not already enough unusual fare to draw pianophiles, Mr. Liebermann includes the monstrous Fantasia Contrappuntistica (solo piano version) by Ferrucio Busoni. The latter is a notoriously massive undertaking, musically and pianistically – Herculean striving with Bachian inspiration at its core. To be frank, I’ve never taken to this piece and would probably only enjoy it upon consumption of some mind-expanding drug, but Mr. Liebermann’s version will undoubtedly take an important place alongside the not too numerous versions available. Bravo for taking it on – and with mastery!

For this listener, a high point was hearing the closing work, Mr. Liebermann’s own Nocturne No. 10, Op. 99, written in memory of the composer Gian Carlo Menotti. Between the potent lyricism of the composition itself and the expressive performance, it is extremely moving, making a fitting closing statement to follow so many pianistic adventures.

Speaking of adventures, one reads in the credits that Mr. Liebermann recorded these two discs in August and November of 2020, mid-pandemic, at the studio of recording wizard Sergei Kvitko in Lansing, Michigan; this was at a time when many were reluctant to step outside, let alone travel from the East coast. Congratulations are in order to all involved in this meaningful achievement.

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Switching gears to violin it is a pleasure to recommend the new CD Turning in Time (released by Centaur Records in 2021), featuring all solo works played by young violinist Kinga Augustyn, whose career I’ve followed for about a decade now (kingaaugustyn.com). Ms. Augustyn has the natural musicality, keen intellect, and highly developed technique to turn the thorniest of compositions into child’s play, and so it is hard to imagine a better advocate than she is for a program of such challenging violin works of the 20th and 21st centuries.

According to the author of the program notes, Ted Mirecki, the term “modern” in music is often used in a pejorative sense to denote “a radical departure from the past”, and in his words “this collection refutes that conception – it demonstrates that musical ideas, turning in time, represent a continuum over the past several centuries. Specifically, the spirit of J. S. Bach pervades many of the works.” (The latter is a worthy connection to strive to hear, though of course the listener hoping for something resembling Bach tonally may be surprised.)

Starting off with Four Lauds of Elliott Carter, (dedicated to musicians Aaron Copland, Goffredo Petrassi, Robert Mann, and Roger Sessions), Ms. Augustyn opens with a beautiful sound right from the start. One is reminded of yet another reason “modern” is sometimes used pejoratively, and the reason is that not every violinist is Kinga Augustyn! The screeching and scratching that some associate with the music of our time may often be due not to the compositions but to the players; Ms. Augustyn, though, has intonation so true and a tone so singing that one can imagine a listener actually humming a few bars of Four Lauds after hearing her. One is not told whether Elliott Carter (who passed away in 2012) ever heard Ms. Augustyn play these, but one can imagine that he would have been delighted to know and work with her.

Fortunately, two composers heard on this disc did meet this violinist, and two World Premieres of their works are presented here, the Capriccio (2008) by Krzysztof Penderecki (1933-2020) and the title work, Turning in Time (2018) by Debra Kaye (b. 1956).

The Penderecki Capriccio is highly virtuosic in what is described in the booklet notes as a “neo-Romantic” (imagine a Paganini work updated with wider range, playing behind the bridge, etc.). This piece seems absolutely tailor-made for Ms. Augustyn, who has recorded all the Paganini Caprices and could probably toss them off while catching a train. A 2013 photo in the CD booklet of a smiling Penderecki with Ms. Augustyn seems to foretell of this impressive premiere, though the notes don’t mention the details of whether he heard it or not before he passed away in 2020 (the recording sessions were in 2017, 2018, and 2019 at Martin Patrych Studios in New York, engineered by the much sought-after Joseph Patrych).

Turning in Time, the final track and title work for the CD, was written expressly for Ms. Augustyn, who requested from composer Debra Kaye that it make reference to Bach’s Chaconne from the Partita No. 2 in D minor, and it is a tour de force. It is (in the composer’s words), “21st century music periodically interspersed with Bach-like phrases, motifs returning in new variations, juxtaposing past and present, reflecting on things that have changed and what remains the same, in a conversation between the ‘then’ and the ‘now’.” Ms. Augustyn conveys all of this, and the highly expressive ending phrase from the Bach Chaconne itself leaves one with chills after so much dissonance. One can’t help thinking how interesting it would be to pair this in a concert with the entire Bach Partita No. 2 – what better way to illustrate the proposed continuum than to integrate eras and styles?

Other works on the CD are Luciano Berio’s Sequenza VIII (1976), an exhaustive exploration of an adjacent-note motif, Grazyna Bacewicz’s Sonata No. 2 (1958), given a lucid and cohesive rendition here, and Isang Yun’s compelling Bachian work, Königliches Thema (1976). As well-conceived as the CD is, each work on it deserves to be heard in its own space, which is another good reason for the serious listener to own the CD and spread out the listening. Brava!

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We’ve now recommended a piano CD followed by a violin CD, and we’ll close by recommending a disc of music for piano and violin, entitled American Violin Sonatas (Albany Records). It features World Premiere recordings of two works that are quite late in achieving this distinction, the Sonata in B minor, Op. 4 of Rubin Goldmark (1872-1936), and the Sonata in F Major (c. 1790) of Alexander Reinagle (1756-1809), composed around a century apart. The artists are violinist Ting-Lan Chen and pianist Nathan Buckner, who have performed worldwide, working with many of the greatest musicians of our day, and who are currently Professors of Violin and Piano respectively at the University of Nebraska-Kearney.

On top of offering the pleasure of musical discovery, this CD is important historically for filling in gaps in the discography of American music. If one wants to learn about American violin-piano concert music before 1900 (aside from a couple of other composers such as Beach and Foote), a key figure to know is Reinagle. He was central in Philadelphia musical life from his arrival to the US in 1786, and though some may know of his four largescale works dubbed the “Philadelphia” Sonatas, the Sonata in F recorded here has remained unknown in what is believed to be its intended form, due to a missing violin part, either lost or not notated (though there is a recording of it as a piano piece – and in comparing recorded versions, one will notice that the addition of a sustaining instrument affords a much more spacious feel, encouraging a slower tempo in the last movement and naturally adding variety of line and texture).

Enter pianist Nathan Buckner, who with some creative scholarship, imagination, and the musicological equivalent of time travel, created a violin part for it in 2015. One could almost miss from the liner notes that he was the one behind this completion, though his work qualifies as a kind of composing; many pianists might be announcing the upcoming publication of their “signature edition” but not here (though by the way, where and when will that printed edition be available?). Mr. Buckner describes the violin part as filling “the modest English role for the violin typical of Clementi’s work rather than Mozart’s more elaborate use.” In any case, a recital-worthy sonata has been reborn, and it received its recorded premiere just a few months ago in October of 2020.

All that background would be chiefly of theoretical interest without musical quality, but Mr. Buckner and Ms. Chen join in a seamless collaboration of polish and grace. They place the music front and center at all times, and it is a joy to hear. They enhance what the music has to offer, its thematic interest, thoughtful development, drama, and lyricism. The third movement has an infectious energy that brings Haydn and other Classical greats to mind.

In addition to the Reinagle, the CD features the premiere of Rubin Goldmark’s Sonata in B minor, Op. 4. For those unfamiliar with Goldmark, he was a pupil of Dvorak and a teacher in New York whose many illustrious students included Gershwin and Copland. He was Chair of Composition for the newly created Juilliard School starting in 1924 but sometimes is lost in history’s shuffle next to his musical uncle, Karl Goldmark. His Sonata in B minor is yet another great discovery, this time in a late Romantic vein, with some noticeable influence of Brahms and Dvorak for obvious reasons. It is a sprawling work, overflowing with impassioned phrases and harmonies and quite demanding for both instruments, but, thanks to the ample technique, sensitivity, and cohesion in the duo of Chen and Buckner, the performance invites the listener in to love it. One wants to hear it repeatedly (and really should in order to assimilate it fully) – especially that sumptuous second movement – so it will be one to own.

Both Reinagle and Goldmark were recorded in July of 2018, at the Foellinger Great Hall at Krannert Center for the Performing Arts, University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign, with excellent recording/engineering by Graham Duncan and Richard Scholwin. Collectors and music lovers may find the recording here and other major music CD vendors:

American Violin Sonatas.

Vladimir Tiagunov, pianist

Released by Record Union, May 6, 2020

Catalog Number: RU 233600

UPC: 7321170125946

It is a brave new world for this classical music reviewer to receive a Spotify link to review an album, but that was the case with a new recording released on the Record Union platform by pianist Vladimir Tiagunov (vladimirtiagunov.com), a young pianist with considerable passion and drive.

Not a “cookie-cutter” pianist, Mr. Tiagunov is a pianist of bold gestures, projecting a large spirit but sometimes a nonchalance about details. Those “details” here include the instrumental sound and editing, so this recording is neither for the faint of heart nor for lovers of the pristine; it promises, however, not to be dull.

Mr. Tiagunov’s programming is also largescale. Here he plays a generous and demanding recital of Beethoven’s Sonata in F minor Op. 57 (Appassionata), Schubert’s Fantasy, Op. 15 (Wanderer), the second (A-flat major) of the Moments Musicaux D. 780, six Chopin Études from Op. 10, and Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition. Though no details of recording are given (where it all was recorded, by whom and when, and whether in several days or in one continuous recital), one surmises from his selections that he is a pianist of considerable stamina and dauntless courage.

Mr. Tiagunov starts his program with Beethoven’s Op. 57. Playing a questionably serviced piano of rough sound, with what seems to have been minimal editing, he still conveys enough of the work’s inherent drama to distract the listener’s ears from the rawness of both most of the time. The first movement has a good deal of excitement. Having heard the many highly edited performances of this work that are available today, one fares best if not listening microscopically but with a certain aural “squint” to imagine it as a live performance.

In a live performance, one imagines the pacing would be more natural also. Perhaps it is the way Spotify streams from track to track, but there seems to be much too much haste between the Beethoven’s first and second movements, ruining any preparation for the meditative music ahead. (One hopes that this rapid segue is not where the attention-deficit modern listening experience is headed!) Then, in the second movement, the piano (which elsewhere one would describe as serviceable at best) becomes hard to bear. There is a twangy quality to the bass that grows more and more disturbing, especially for those low offbeats, which also sound unduly poked out. One wonders at this point why a pianist of such dedication has not held out for a better recording situation. If someone with the means is reading this review: please buy or lend this young pianist a better instrument and perhaps more leisurely recording session!

Not all of this reviewer’s reservations are related to equipment. Two diminished chords at the end of the central movement are further examples of haste – and it is not just a matter of the fermata of the first one being undetectable, but that its half-note value is actually shortchanged. One wonders where the fire is. Possibly such haste stems from an awareness that there is still the Wanderer, more Schubert, six Chopin Etudes, and Mussorgsky’s Pictures yet to come, but if so, then a “less is more” approach to programming may help future albums. I personally prefer hearing a single piece with ample time for full note values to speak, rather than feeling I am on a high-speed train with quick stops for major masterworks.

The finale of the Beethoven fares best of the three movements. Here, the same urgency that detracts from other movements creates an edge-of-seat excitement. I enjoyed it overall, a few raced measures notwithstanding.

Moving on to the Chopin Études, Op. 10, there is much to admire. The first in C major has a live brilliance to it. This brilliance at times verges on the breathlessness of an athletic contest (with the occasional smudged notes that beset live performance and usually get tidied up in the studio), but all in all it is effective. The second Étude in A minor goes at quite a clip as well. Though one misses some details underlying the prominent tops, the outlines and continuity are always there.

The third Étude in E major communicates a heartfelt involvement that I appreciate greatly, occasional eccentricities and all. There are extremes of speed beyond the usual range and some very personal liberties, plus more of the tonal issues already mentioned, and yet the individuality brings it a freshness that is much needed after hearing the sameness of so many recordings. Similar sincere lyricism is heard as well in the Étude No. 6 in E-flat minor, emerging as quite soulful despite the heaviness of the instrument.

For lovers of sheer speed, No. 4 in C-sharp minor is wildly fast, and No. 12 in C minor (the “Revolutionary” Etude) enjoys plenty of surging and roiling energy from Mr. Tiagunov’s left hand.

Moving on to Schubert, we hear the second (A-flat) of the Six Moments Musicaux, Andantino. Here the music is treated with a welcome spaciousness, and it creates an effective stylistic transition to the world of Schubert for the Wanderer Fantasy. Anyone who has played the Wanderer knows it is a beast (even Schubert who composed it was known to have said “let the devil play it”), but Mr. Tiagunov seems to take special pleasure in tackling such beasts. He fares well, with masses of leaping chords and arpeggios well in hand and not too many bruises. Mr. Tiagunov lets the heavenly Adagio section speak eloquently from its opening phrases and expansively rolled chords through to the build-up to the next movement – with again, much to admire.

In a surfeit of riches, more virtuosity follows with Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition. There are few surprises here except more speed in several spots than one has generally heard. This pianist moves especially briskly through the opening Promenade. It holds together well, but it can also hold together with more relaxed pacing.

High marks go to Gnomus, with its trills having just the right snarly, menacing quality, plus the appropriately childlike Tuileries, the fittingly lumbering Bydlo, and the atmospheric Old Castle. Mr. Tiagunov fares especially well in the muscular and clearly contrasting sections. The characters in Goldenberg and Schmuyle emerge as just the right foils for each other, and the Baba-Yaga movement shows brilliance and power.

Promenade No. 3 is quite fast – again begging the question of where the fire is – but there is surely some reason behind it. The Ballet of the Unhatched Chicks I’ve heard played more lightly, but again, little about this entire recording emphasizes delicacy. Cum mortuis in lingua mortua could also be softer to gain more mystery.

The final Great Gate of Kiev finds Mr. Tiagunov closing the recital in his element, and many will undoubtedly enjoy hearing him play it in live concert when the pandemic is over. For those who cannot wait, this recording can serve as a fair substitute.

The album contains 30 tracks and is distributed to all top digital music services: AppleMusic, Spotify, YouTubeMusic, Pandora, Tidal, Deezer, and others.

Liana Paniyeva, pianist

Mechanics Hall Summer Music Festival

Mechanics Hall, Worcester, Massachusetts

August 14, 2018

As much of the world uses the enforced pandemic “pause” to catch up on life, it is a pleasure to note that many musicians are taking this time to unearth pre-pandemic live performances to share over the internet. One such performance is by Ukrainian pianist Liana Paniyeva, who performed at the Mechanics Hall Summer Music Festival in 2018 and has shared her recital via YouTube. Click the following links to listen:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ENTExyRi_h4&t=239s

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y0oGi_hPKFA&t=1242s

First, for a bit of background, Ms. Paniyeva has won prizes in numerous competitions internationally and has performed at festivals in Norway, Hungary, Syria, Canada, England, Italy, South Africa, and Israel. Her recitals have taken her to Carnegie Hall and the Myra Hess Concert Series in Chicago, to note highlights. A graduate of the Donetsk Music Academy in Ukraine, she earned her Professional Studies Diploma from the Manhattan School of Music and an Artist Diploma from The Hartt School of the University of Hartford.

Ms. Paniyeva impresses this listener right away as a sensitive player, opening her recital with the much-loved Gluck-Sgambati Melody (“Dance of the Blessed Spirits” from Orfeo and Euridice). Her earnest rendering sets a pensive tone for this rather weighty program, which continues in a similar spirit (and key) with the Rachmaninoff-Corelli Variations, Op. 42. Here again she reveals herself to be a musician of intense commitment. Her attention to detail through the entire performance is impressive, showing fine control and transparency in the complex textures and thoughtful delineation of phrases in slow lyrical sections.

There is an orderly, meticulous quality to all that Ms. Paniyeva plays, and this is accentuated visually by her preparation and cut-off gestures, which we can see thanks to the large screen with keyboard view that Mechanics Hall has onstage. The idea of an onstage close-up screen (prompted one guesses by the size of this imposing hall) is a wonderful feature in general for this increasingly video-oriented world, and though this concert is from 2018, pre-Covid, one can’t help thinking that with current social distancing we may be seeing a similar feature at venues that can manage it.

If there is anything missing in Ms. Paniyeva’s Op. 42, it is that one occasionally expects more of the sense of impassioned abandon in some of the faster, more driving variations, though her interpretation is quite persuasive as it stands. Speaking of things missing, one is also sad not to hear the craggy Variation XIX, which can build to hair-raising effect towards Variation XX. Now, Rachmaninoff did specify about Variation XIX, that “this variation may be omitted” (for, as the story goes, when he sensed that his audience was restless in his own performances, he would spontaneously drop a variation); this listener, though, at home during the pandemic and with no train to catch, would love to hear each note of the piece. (As an aside, it is interesting to speculate how these Covid days may change listeners’ expectations and wishes.) Thankfully, Ms. Paniyeva does play the other “optional” Variations, XI and XII, and they are compelling in their rhythmic energy.

Following this work comes more Rachmaninoff, two of the Moments Musicaux, Op. 16. The first in B-flat minor is fittingly brooding in Ms. Paniyeva’s rendition, mournful from the beginning through winding elaborations and back. Polish and accuracy are commendable here, with barely a flaw – a tall order with such an intricate piece. This listener is accustomed to a bit more contrast of dynamics and mood in the central section, but again, vive la difference! Ms. Paniyeva follows with the second piece of the same set (F minor), and she projects its surges and sweeps well.

Medtner’s Sonata Tragica (Op. 39, No. 5) is simply a gift to hear, as it is still underplayed, and Ms. Paniyeva gives it a marvelous performance. She lavishes care and attention on each nuance and storms through its virtuosic fistfuls with fire and command. Her special commitment to this repertoire is clear, and she is more than up to all of its substantial challenges. Brava!

The final work (and Part II of the program) is Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition, played with mastery of its many contrasting techniques and moods. What strikes this listener perhaps most about Ms. Paniyeva’s conception is her pacing and ability to hold power in reserve. Never does she turn the stage into a pool of sweat and pile of missed notes, as sometimes one sees and hears. She sustains intense focus and leads the trusting listener on her long journey with no histrionics.

Highlights include her “Tuileries” movement where she displays nearly Horowitzian staccato notes at high speed and the ” Ballet of the Unhatched Chicks” – fittingly chirpy and whimsical. The “Bydlo” (Cattle/Oxen) movement is not quite as heavily lumbering in her hands as one often hears – refreshing in a way, and yet leaving some questions. Though Ms. Paniyeva favors tapered phrases and a rounded sound – qualities often falling under the heading “musicality” – perhaps more of the thundering bovine is justified here. Again, it is a matter of taste.

Another notable feature of Ms. Paniyeva’s conception is her omission of the fifth Promenade section, between “Samuel Goldenberg and Schmuÿle” and “The Market at Limoges.” The omission works well to sustain momentum (as various arrangers and performers seem to have agreed, notably Ravel). This reviewer is frankly prone to fatigue in many performances of this piece but Ms. Paniyeva’s performance keeps the flow. With the momentum sustained, one is then readier for the eeriness of the “Catacombs” movement and ensuing “Con Mortuis in Lingua Mortua” – and Ms. Paniyeva plays them with fitting eeriness. “The Hut on Hen’s Legs” (Baba Yaga), while more deliberate than one often hears, is also very clean here with only negligible exceptions, and “The Great Gate of Kiev,” measured and mighty, is a victory lap capping off a fine performance.

In summary, this an excellent recital by a wonderful pianist.

Rixiang Huang, Piano

Recorded March 7, 2020, Alfred Newman Hall, University of Southern California, CA; Recording Producer, Engineer, and Editor, Josue Gonzalez;

Photographer, Jiachen Liu; Piano Technician Ann Hayden;

Booklet Editing and Art Direction, Chenting Zhao

On March 7 of this interminable pandemic season, prizewinning pianist Rixiang Huang was busy playing a highly demanding piano recital at the University of Southern California, where he is a doctoral candidate at the Thornton School of Music. From this recital, a recording was made and released commercially in April as a CD entitled “French Romance.” The recording is now available both as a physical CD (including Poulenc, Debussy, Ravel, and Mussorgsky) as well as a download-only recording (with additional tracks of Bartók and Mendelssohn). There is much to admire in it.

About the repertoire, the French works include a short song transcription from the Poulenc’s Léocadia incidental music, specifically Les chemins de l’amour, plus Ravel’s Sonatine and Debussy’s Estampes. Though entitled “French Romance” the CD contains just around thirty minutes of French music, with the other thirty-one being the great Russian masterwork, Pictures at an Exhibition by Mussorgsky. The additional download-only tracks range still more widely (with Mendelssohn’s Phantasie, Op. 28, and Bartók’s Sonata, Sz. 80), bringing the total to around an hour and a half of very diverse piano music.

About the performer, Rixiang (Ricky) Huang (https://www.rixianghuangpianist.com/) is an excellent young pianist, whose live performances of Haydn, Beethoven, Granados, and Liszt I reviewed quite favorably last year at a Bradshaw and Buono winners’ recital at Carnegie’s Weill Hall (Bradshaw & Buono Winners Recital in Review). He has won an impressive array of other prizes and accolades as well, and he currently studies with the noted pianist and conductor Jeffrey Kahane. His playing on this recording displays the tremendous technical facility and range that one heard around a year ago in live concert, and it bodes well for continued success in his career.

The disc opens nostalgically with an arrangement of Poulenc’s meltingly beautiful song Les chemins de l’amour. Once a signature piece for the legendary Jessye Norman, the music had originally been set to a heartbreaking Anouilh poem of love and loss and has since been played in various arrangements for different instruments. No transcriber is credited for Mr. Huang’s solo piano version of the song, perhaps understandably in that very little is added to the original (to keep its purity intact).  Mr. Huang lets the melody speak, as he should, and it is a poignant performance.

Debussy’s Estampes follows, and all three movements show individuality. The opening of Pagodes was a high point for this reviewer, reflecting a special sensitivity, grace, and delicate tonal shading. That sensitivity was less apparent to this listener in the second piece, Soirée dans Grenade, which suffered a bit from an almost metronomic stiffness, particularly the staccato sixteenths in measure 18 (and every analogous spot to follow). More of the crescendo in these spots (as marked even in Debussy’s manuscripts) would have lent a more human impulse and gesture to the phrasing to offset this quality. In the third and final piece of the set, Jardins sous la pluie, the drumming of the garden “rain” was quite evocative. Minor quibbles aside, many will be sure to enjoy the entire set, especially the Pagodes.

Next on the disc is Ravel’s Sonatine, and here the phrasing is flexible and singing, while still maintaining a restraint in accordance work’s neo-classical spirit. Mr. Huang shows a genuine expressiveness in the work’s central Mouvement de Menuet, and the finale, Animé, has just the right crystalline brilliance and drive.

Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition concludes the physical CD’s selections, and it does so with gusto. One may well ask why yet another recording of this well-known piece is needed (and why place one might place this juggernaut on a disc of French delicacies), but the results speak. It affords a chance for Mr. Huang to shine in almost every facet of his pianism. That is part of the goal of a debut CD, after all (which has this listener wondering why it wasn’t simply a self-titled CD rather than one shoehorned into a “French Romance” theme).

The Mussorgsky benefits here from a highly intense Gnomus and an exceptionally plaintive rendition of The Old Castle. The deft finger-work (especially in Tuileries, Limoges, and the Ballet of the Unhatched Chicks) is expert, as is the power in the lumbering – but not too slow – oxen of Bydlo, the storming of Baba Yaga, and the final Great Gate of Kiev. To play each contrasting piece with the different required touches, sounds, and moods is to master an encyclopedic range of pianism, and Mr. Huang delivers it all with seeming ease. The piece marks the end of a highly auspicious first commercial CD.

The additional digital downloads of Bartók and Mendelssohn are more than a bonus. Though the Bartók Sonata seems at first not as savage as one sometimes hears, it has instead a reined-in energy which is effective in building excitement, and Mr. Huang unleashes the accelerando to the close of the first movement with ferocity. The final movement is bristling. It may be one of this listener’s most enjoyable Bartók Sonata performances to date. Mendelssohn’s relatively underplayed Phantasie, Op. 28 is also excellent, with Mr. Huang’s fleet-fingered reading bringing it lucidity and cohesion.

One won’t find these last two pieces on the physical CD itself, so adventurous music lovers might consider purchasing the download-only version. A preview is available at https://rixianghuang.hearnow.com/. The complete recording is at Spotify, Itunes, Apple Music, and other stores.

Jonathan Griffith, DCINY Artistic Director and Principal Conductor

Featuring Distinguished Concerts Orchestra and Distinguished Concerts Singers International

Michael Adelson, DCINY Assistant Artistic Director and Conductor

Debra Cook, Soprano

Stern Auditorium/Perelman Stage, Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

Sunday, February 16, 2020

Perpetual Light was the apt title for this Sunday’s concert presented by Distinguished Concerts International New York, and, though the title presumably refers to the Lux Aeterna finale of the John Rutter Requiem which made up this concert’s second half, the title suits DCINY’s uplifting programming overall. The DCINY organization occupies a unique position in New York concert life by drawing together singers from all over the world for choral and orchestral concerts, and their performances consistently radiate fellowship and joy in music-making. This weekend the large combined forces included choruses from Alabama, California, Illinois, Indiana, North Carolina, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Virginia, and, as the program states, “individual singers from around the globe.” In addition to the much-loved Rutter work, the concert included shorter works by Rain Worthington, Mark John McEnroe, Arthur Gottschalk, and Sergio Cervetti before intermission.

It should be noted that all the works on the first half were chosen by Croatian-based conductor Miran Vaupotić, who we were told could not be present to conduct them due to visa issues. Fortunately, conductor Michael Adelson, the Assistant Artistic Director of DCINY since 2019, was able to step in as a replacement, and he led the orchestra with precision and assurance. The works chosen happened to be in somewhat accessible contemporary styles overall, but that is not to say that they were without challenges of balance, rhythm, and synchronization. Thankfully all involved were up to the demands, as one has come to expect from this orchestra.

Still Motion by Rain Worthington (b. 1949) set a tone of anticipation for the program’s opener. Described by the composer as “a mix of edgy energy, reflective sadness and strength of conviction” the work creates a hypnotic effect through repeated motives, particularly in the percussion parts (including vibraphone and tam-tam). The ever-reliable Distinguished Concerts Orchestra played it with a sense of expectant drama, and the composer was present to take a bow.

Next up were two symphonic pieces, Dance of the Pagans and Storm Clouds Approaching, by Mark John McEncroe (b. 1947). One reads in the program notes that that these two pieces were orchestrations of works written for piano, taken from Mr. McEnroe’s volumes 2 and 3 of Musical Images for Piano: Reflections & Recollections Series. The first piece, fittingly folk-like in its simplistic symmetrical phrases and repeated melodic patterns, was brought to life by the deft orchestrator’s hand of Mark J. Saliba, who perhaps ought to have been given shared billing, beyond the mention in the program notes. The second piece, moodier and more complex, seemed to present more challenges in terms of expressiveness and ensemble but was handled well by conductor and orchestra alike. The composer enjoyed a bow for each piece.

Music of Gottschalk came next, but not Louis Moreau Gottschalk (as one assumed on first glance at the DCINY website) but Arthur Gottschalk (b. 1952). We heard Tebe Boga, a solemn religious work set to a text roughly the equivalent to the Latin Te Deum but in Old Slavonic, as the work was commissioned for the Siberian State Orchestra and Choir by conductor Vladimir Lande. Composed in 2018 for orchestra, choir, and solo bass-baritone, it was adapted here for just bass-baritone and orchestra, and the intrepid soloist was Timothy Jones, who handled the entire text with compelling involvement and sure delivery. It was fascinating music by a composer who clearly knows his craft. It was originally intended to be interpolated into performances of the same composer’s Requiem: For the Living, so perhaps DCINY will present that work at some point.

Closing the first half were two atmospheric movements from the opera Elegy for A Prince by  Sergio Cervetti (b. 1940). The opera is based on Oscar Wilde’s The Happy Prince, and we heard Scenes 1 and 9, from Act II. The role of Swallow (and later Match-Girl) was sung by soprano Megan Weston, whose sweetness of sound worked in contrast in Scene 1 with the projected anguish of excellent bass-baritone Luis Alejandro Orozco as a Prince-turned-statue. Ms. Weston was even more remarkable in Scene 9, her high notes soaring in the music’s beautiful evocations of Swallow’s descent from heaven. Tenor Quinn Bernegger, in the role of Young Writer, then summed up the opera’s themes of compassion and benevolence, concluding with nobility the scene and the first half of this concert.

John Rutter’s much-loved Requiem closed the program under the direction now of Jonathan Griffith, Artistic Director and Principal Conductor of DCINY. Composed in the relatively consolatory spirit of Fauré’s Requiem, it omits the traditional Dies Irae, and its movements of meditation and comfort outbalance the darker sections. As a British composer, Rutter also inserts two completely English movements, Out of the Deep and The Lord is My Shepherd (the second and sixth of the overall seven-movement “arch”). This music emerged in its full glory, with the multiple choruses blending quite well (and their behind-the-scenes leaders taking a well-deserved bow afterwards). The final Lux Aeterna was sheer heaven, with partial thanks to soprano soloist Debra Cook, who sang with a covered, velvety quality in her high registers, never shrill or harsh and with true intonation. She was also superb in the Pie Jesu. Outstanding as well was principal cellist Elizabeth Mikhael in the second movement Out of the Deep, beautifully resonant both in her opening solo and as the cello part was interwoven with chorus and orchestra. Kudos to all – and to DCINY for a remarkable achievement.

Yi Zhong and Joseph Kingma, pianists

Yamaha Artist Services, Inc. (YASI) Piano Salon, New York, NY

Wednesday, January 8, 2020

Two pianists shared a concert this week at the Yamaha Artists Services, Inc (YASI) piano salon on Fifth Avenue: Joseph Kingma, winner of the 2017 Liszt International Piano Competition in Ohio, and Yi Zhong, a prize winner of the 2016 Los Angeles Liszt International Piano Competition. The concert was presented under the auspices of the American Liszt Society (ALS), and pianist Gila Goldstein, president of its New York/New Jersey Chapter since she founded it 1992, spoke words of introduction. She prepared the sizeable crowd for an evening of virtuosity, not exclusively by Liszt but also Rachmaninoff and composers who followed Liszt.

Yi Zhong played first, starting with two movements of Liszt’s transcription of the Berlioz Symphonie Fantastique. We heard Reveries – Passions and Un Bal. Un Bal is the better known of the two movements, and it was brilliant in Mr. Zhong’s hands, projecting charm and sweep in its lilting waltz and mounting to a bravura ending with rapid octaves, huge leaps, hand-crossings – “the works.” Mr. Zhong is a fine champion for this transcription movement, which is still relatively rarely played.

Still rarer are live piano performances of the Symphonie’s longer first movement, Reveries-Passions, and perhaps with good reason. Berlioz, as one of history’s great masters of orchestration poured much of his inspiration into the orchestral colors, and many of these are hard to capture via solo piano, not to mention at high speed while addressing balance and detail. It is rather telling that, when pianist Christopher O’Riley performed the entire fifty-minute Symphonie in New York in 2018, it was in collaboration with Basil Twist’s aquatic puppetry, ballet, lights, and tinsel. Without ample color of some sort, the high drama can descend into hokum and the piano writing into dreck. Mr. Zhong thankfully avoided that fate, but the loudness of the hall piano still dominated the experience. Mr. Zhong certainly has the pianism to tackle just about anything, but this special niche of the repertoire will call for that “je ne sais quoi.”

A bit of a sonic reprieve came with the sublime Quejas o la Maja y el Ruiseñor (The Maiden and the Nightingale) from Goyescas of Enrique Granados.  Mr. Zhong showed a genuine warmth of feeling here, which grew still more apparent in the next work, the Intermezzo No. 1 of Mexican composer Manuel Ponce (1882-1948). Ponce remains best known for guitar works, so it was refreshing to hear part of his piano output.

Mr. Zhong concluded his programmed portion with Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody No. 15 (Rakoczy March) in Vladimir Horowitz’s version, played with tremendous technical skill and a Horowitzian gleam. Mr. Zhong is a pianist of impressive stamina, fierce concentration, and unquestionable technical command, and these bode well for his busy performing life. He returned for an encore, a jazzy piano arrangement by Alexis Weissenberg of the charming En Avril À Paris (April in Paris) of Charles Trenet (not to be confused with Vernon Duke’s April in Paris). These Weissenberg arrangements have also been performed by Marc-André Hamelin but have only recently (late 2018-2019) been made available in a Muse Press publication (edited by Mr. Hamelin), so Mr. Zhong is surely close to the forefront of some fresh repertoire.

The second pianist of the evening was Joseph Kingma. This reviewer worried a bit that the aural saturation point had already been reached in the first half, so the prospect of hearing Liszt’s Sonetto 104 del Petrarca from Années de Pèlerinages (V. II, Italy) and the complete Thirteen Preludes Op. 32 of Rachmaninoff was daunting; any misgivings, though, were short-lived.

Mr. Kingma coaxed the listener into the music’s poetry from the very first notes of his Liszt, showing the command of a master and a composer’s insight. Though his technique emerged through the program as one which is capable of anything, it was always used in the service of the music itself.

Mr. Kingma’s Rachmaninoff Preludes were astonishingly good, each in a different way. To say that the Op. 32 set is hard to pull off in live performance is an understatement. The Preludes as a group challenge every facet of pianism and musicality (including stamina), but, beyond that, they require that an artist draw out the uniqueness of each one, lest they all become a blur for an average audience after forty minutes. It was clear that Mr. Kingma knew each piece from inside the music but could also step outside each one enough to “translate” it in a sense to his audience – a rare gift.

From the stormy virtuosity of No. 1 to the dark brooding in No. 2 with its restless undercurrent and the brisk energy of No. 3’s wintry troika ride, Mr. Kingma captured the opening three wonderfully. The elusive, shifting moods in No. 4 are unwieldy for many but were projected quite persuasively, and an ethereal transparency graced the Prelude No. 5 in G major (Moderato). If one occasionally wondered whether the pedal might be a bit sluggish (as also possibly in Sonnet 104 early on), that reservation was fleeting, and the Prelude No. 6 lived up to its Allegro appassionato designation, roiling with rapid-fire finger-work and power.

These pieces travel to interesting territory tonally (one was reminded of Shostakovich and Prokofiev in moments of the No. 7 in F major, Moderato), and just when one felt one knew every inch of Rachmaninoff’s work, Mr. Kingma rekindled the desire to relearn them all more deeply. One hopes he will record the entire set (if he hasn’t already). He has clearly delved into each one on all levels, from the broader swaths to the finer lines, colored inflections, and nuances.

The set progressed seamlessly to its close, from the fleet-fingered lightness of No. 8 to the masterful pacing of No. 9, the palpable tragedy of No. 10 in B minor, and the mercurial shifts in No. 11. Only the briefest glitch arose in No. 12 – remarkable amid such a large undertaking – and the final ponderous No. 13 (Grave) held the audience spellbound. On that subject, lest one think it was an audience of all cognoscenti, two neighboring attendees who had been audibly trying to distinguish Berlioz from Granados sat utterly transfixed and silent – an affirmation of the power of music and of Mr. Kingma’s performance.

The only distractions by the end were the bongo-like noises of the hall’s radiator, which, in view of all the acoustical technology used in this space, seemed rather ironic. Both artists deserved better, so one hopes that this problem can be resolved. Apart from such matters, congratulations are in order to all involved.

Edson Scheid, period violin

Centaur Records CRC 3735

Recorded September 4, 6, and 8, 2018 at Martin Patrych Memorial Studios, Bronx, NY

Produced and Engineered by Joseph Patrych

On Paganini’s Trail… H. W. Ernst and more, played by violinist Edson Scheid, is a 2019 release on Centaur Records that many musicians will undoubtedly want to hear for several reasons. First of all, Mr. Scheid is a superb violinist and a musician who can handle the fiendish challenges of this repertoire while finding the music in it. Without that fundamental merit, very little else would matter. Secondly, though, it is also a well curated program that promises an interesting glimpse into the world of nineteenth-century violin giant, Nicolò Paganini (1782-1840) including his Introduction and Variations on Nel cor più non mi sento, Op. 38, plus a generous helping of the music by virtuoso Heinrich Wilhelm Ernst (1812-1865) who followed him. He even followed him literally, as the liner notes tell us, renting rooms near Paganini’s to learn from his practice. As a bonus, there is a solo version of Mozart’s Rondo from the Duo in G Major for Violin and Viola, KV 423, crafted by Mr. Scheid himself with techniques that Paganini and Ernst pioneered to simulate multiple instruments. Finally, it is of interest that the entire program is listed as being played on a “period violin” – and one is hard pressed to find other (if any) recordings of these works billed as such.

Most classical music fans these days are familiar with “historically informed performances” (HIP) of Baroque and early Classical music (albeit with mixed responses), but nineteenth-century ones are a different matter altogether. For performance practice studies to creep so close to the present feels almost like an archaeological dig in one’s own closet. Many techniques and varieties of expressiveness from the Romantic era are alive and well today, and quite a few of us musicians (several on staff at New York Concert Review) had teachers who studied with musicians from the nineteenth century.  It is natural to ask: what is now considered to define a nineteenth-century “period” violin or violinist?

The liner notes mention that Ernst and Paganini have rarely (if ever) been played on “a period instrument with gut strings and without a shoulder rest.” Apart from the strings and shoulder rest issues, we are not told the make of Mr. Scheid’s instrument or bow (which would be of interest chiefly because of the CD’s billing as “period violin”). We do know that Paganini himself played an Amati and after he lost that, a Guarneri del Gesu (an exact Vuillaume replica of which is played today by a noted violinist who is not part of any historic movement). Ernst himself played a Stradivarius, as do quite a few fortunate artists today, and it seems that the question of luthiers may not to be central to historic fidelity issues – but one is still curious because of the cover words, “period violin.”

One is left assuming that the string type and absence of shoulder rest may be central, and they are certainly important.  Gut strings, often described as providing more complex timbres and overtones, almost human-sounding, were largely replaced by synthetic and metal ones in the twentieth century, before the HIP movement really blossomed, though a number of twentieth-century giants – including Heifetz, Milstein, and Rosand – continued to favor them at least for one or two of the four strings. As for the shoulder rest or absence of it, it can affect shifts and technique overall (and depending how big it is even the resonance), but there seem to have been too many approaches to this (sponges, pads, etc.) to allow true historic codifying.

Beyond the abovementioned issues, what Mr. Scheid links to the Paganini-Ernst “period” are performance elements, and he cites two, including more sparing use of vibrato and the greater use of portamento or slides (though there have been historically differing views on the latter as well). Some violinists assert that gut strings feel more pliable, facilitating some of that portamento gliding, so one aspect can relate to the next – but back to the music itself, lest one get lost in jargon.

The disc starts with music of Ernst. Apart from two very famous Ernst pieces, including the Variations on the Last Rose of Summer and the transcription of Schubert’s Erlkönig (both included here), much of Ernst’s output is still relatively underplayed, so it is great to have all Six Polyphonic Studies here (the last being the Last Rose of Summer Variations).  Granted, there have been fantastic performances of several Ernst works by Midori, Hillary Hahn, and others, and there have also been notable collections since the turn of the millennium, including a 2008 CD of Ilya Gringolts and Ashley Wass on Hyperion and a complete Ernst cycle with Sherban Lupu and Ian Hobson on Toccata Classics (with its final Volume Six just released in 2019); the elements of curation and historical context, though, set Mr. Scheid’s album apart.

As for the playing, Mr. Scheid’s is consistently virtuosic, as it would have to be to navigate this repertoire. Mr. Scheid holds degrees from the Universität Mozarteum in Salzburg, the Yale School of Music, and the Juilliard School, where he was a two-time winner of the Historical Performance Concerto Competition, and he has aptly been described by the Boston Musical Intelligencer as “both musically and technically one of the most assured and accomplished of today’s younger period violinists.” Beyond this, he is especially adept at coaxing warm and multicolored tones from the gut strings of his violin, and he could probably convert the world’s many historic performance cynics into believers.

The first of Ernst’s Polyphonic Studies (Rondino Scherzo- Con Spirito) has one marveling at how a single violin handles music that would keep even a pianist quite busy. There is a test element at work here – these studies are like Paganini Caprices on steroids – but thanks to Mr. Scheid’s artful touch, the pyrotechnics don’t grow tiresome.  The profusion of double-stops (and triple and quadruple – one loses track) can require a bit of beat-stretching, but that stretching never becomes obnoxious in Mr. Scheidt’s hands. The Study No. 2 (marked Con Grazia) is playful, almost coquettish, and the Study No. 3 (Terzetto – Allegro moderato e tranquillo) is imbued with a wistful expressivity. On that topic, the more intimate selections are maximized by beautifully reverberant recording by producer and engineer Joseph Patrych of the Martin Patrych Memorial Studio.

The Study No. 4 (Allegro Risoluto) opens with dizzying speed, and the deeper sound that Mr. Scheid achieves in one register against gossamer arpeggiations in others highlights well the different tiers of sound in a fascinating way (again perhaps with some thanks to those gut strings). The Study No. 5 (Air de Ballet) may be the trickiest to enjoy, as the multiple challenges are simply impossible to downplay.  Mr. Scheid handles all of them amazingly, but the acrobatic elements seem intended to delight audiences in live performance, in which one could watch the dazzling “ballet.” Close-your-eyes listening fare this Air is not; the Study No. 6, though, the Last Rose of Summer Variations, lives up to its reputation as virtuosity with a soulful core. The slides or portamenti are indeed more recognizably profuse here than one hears in other performances, but they work well. As for the wildly difficult variations, it would seem the height of gall to criticize the wizardry of anyone able to pull them off. What might induce groans from fine violinists is given an almost “tossed off” feeling here – so bravo!

Ernst’s Grand Caprice for Solo Violin (on Schubert’s Erlkönig) follows chillingly. Its relentless repeated notes, and the hair-raising subject matter behind them (the story of a death ride from Goethe via Schubert), are all fodder for an exciting performance, and that is what we have, with an edge-of-seat suspense.

Only after all of the above Ernst does the CD proceed from “Paganini’s trail” to some actual Paganini, with the latter’s Introduction and Variations on Nel cor più non mi sento, Op. 38. Here the portamenti are profuse and exaggerated to the point where they are almost comical, but that may be part of the point of such over-the-top virtuosity, stagy echoes and all – to bring a smile, while dazzling with bouncing bow, stratospheric range, and endless surprises. Mr. Scheid plays this music brilliantly.

The final work on the CD, Mozart’s Rondo from the Duo in G Major for Violin and Viola, KV 423, caps off the CD and is a delight. While the average listener will enjoy it for the lightness and spirit achieved, the more experienced violin aficionados will enjoy marveling at the techniques employed to simulate two string instruments on just one. Moments here where one senses some unconventional pitch variations simply make the experience feel more live.

All in all, this disc is an admirable and noteworthy new release, which violinists will want to own and many will enjoy.

Pianists Antoni Kleczek, Ukki Sachedina, Sua Lee, Katelyn Vahala, Tianle Chen,

Bruno Walter Auditorium at Lincoln Center, New York, NY

 December 8, 2019

It is always a revelatory experience to hear the winners of the Rosalyn Tureck International Bach Competitions (TIBC), as this reviewer has done numerous times, and this year’s edition, the sixth, was no exception. The TIBC was conceived in 2003 by pianist Golda Vainberg-Tatz to honor her mentor, the celebrated Bach interpreter Rosalyn Tureck (with Dr. Tureck’s blessing shortly before she passed away), and the piano competitions began in 2008 (now in odd-numbered years, but having taken place 2008, 2010, 2013, 2015, 2017, and 2019). Each event is an enormous undertaking, superbly organized by the dynamic and elegant Ms. Tatz, and each draws an international jury and outstanding international participants (now ranging from ages 8-28). Focusing on Bach, but by no means exclusively Bach, the TIBC events have selected some stellar pianists, and its winners are lighting up the stages worldwide.

Thanks to the abundance of J. S. Bach’s output, there was a dizzying array of categories for awards (one counted 8 by genre, plus four additional prize categories). On Sunday we heard the five winners. Antoni Kleczek (USA) won in Category 2 (Inventions, Sinfonias, Duets) and shared the Contemporary Music Award. Ukki Sachedina (USA) won in Category 3 (Preludes and Fugues). Sua Lee (Korea) won in Category 4A (English Suites, French Suites, and Partitas 1,3), and Katelyn Vahala won in Category 4B (Partitas 2,4,5,6, and French Overture), as well as sharing the Contemporary Music Award. The winner in Category 7 (Recital) and Category 8 (The Goldberg Variations) was Tianle Chen (China).

Tianle Chen ( winner of the Recital, 7th Category, and the Goldberg Variations, 8th Category.)

As with many artistic endeavors, a piano competition needs backing, and this one has drawn the support (among others) of pianistic luminary Evgeny Kissin, for whom TIBC’s Evgeny Kissin/Steinway and Sons Recital Grand Prize is named. This year, that Kissin Prize was not awarded, not because some high level was not reached, it was explained, but because the voting for that prize must be unanimous, and it was not.  Other prizes not awarded included Category 5 (Various Works), Category 6 (Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue, Italian Concerto, Sonatas), and the award to the Outstanding Competitor from the Juilliard School.  On the subject of luminaries, though, the Kern Foundation “Aspiration” (named for the formidable pianist Olga Kern) offered the Aspiration Foundation Award which was won by Antoni Kleczek, the afternoon’s youngest performer at age thirteen.

Antoni Kleczek opened the winners’ recital with a masterful performance of Five Bagatelles (1994) by Carl Vine (b. 1954). The Five Bagatelles are also known as Threnody, after the fifth Bagatelle, which is entitled Threnody (for all of the innocent victims). Carl Vine composed the set in a way that embraces a variety of styles, and it was thus an ideal vehicle to reflect a performer’s range. The first piece, marked Darkly, opens with an eerie feeling of foreboding, and Mr. Kleczek captured this mood with complete immersion. The second piece, marked leggiero e legato, pits driving eighths and sixteenths below longer notes in the treble phrases, and it is a digital test, in a way, to ensure that the tops emerge clearly over the rapid finger-work – this pianist was more than up to the task. The third movement, the set’s slow soulful centerpiece, was beautifully introspective in the rendition of this young musician. The fourth jazzy piece had just the right swing to it, giving the set a brief lightness, and the fifth, a haunting bell-like lament, showed again that this young pianist possesses a musical maturity far beyond his years.

Anthoni Kleczek- winner of Second category inventions / symphonias,
Winner of the Olga Kern AspirationAward, and winner of the Contemporary Award.

The second pianist was Ukki Sachedina, playing Felix Mendelssohn’s Prelude and Fugue in E minor op 35. no 1 – as Mendelssohn’s Preludes and Fugues are allowed in Category 3 in combination with Bach’s own. Mr. Sachedina gave this Prelude great thoroughness and dedication, with minimal fuss and all of the emotion concentrated in the sound. The Fugue lived up to all expectations set by the Prelude, with clarity, excellent control of dynamics, and attention to each detail of counterpoint. The entrance of Mendelssohn’s own E major Chorale theme was truly noble, as was the hallowed quiet ending.

The first actual Bach of the program came from the afternoon’s third pianist, Sua Lee in three selections from Bach’s English Suite in D minor. We heard the Prelude, Sarabande, and Gavotte. Ms. Lee gave the Prelude an improvisatory feel, letting it naturally unfold into the Allegro section, which was remarkably controlled.  Only some slightly rushed repeated bass pedal tones departed from the utter steadiness, but these seemed almost inevitable in the excitement of Bach’s building. The Sarabande sounded as I had never heard it before with all manner of surprising personal touches in the double (including, unless this listener was dreaming, no Picardy third at the close – a surprise). The second Gavotte in D major was similarly graced with some very individual ornamentation and was striking and ethereal. It is rare to see this sort of individual playing in such a young performer so it will be interesting to hear how she develops over time.

The fourth pianist Katelyn Vahala gave a confident account of selections from Bach’s Partita No. 4 in D major – the Overture, Menuet, and Gigue. The Overture had just the right regal quality in its double-dotted rhythms, and what followed was excellent, though for this listener it seemed that some of the ornaments may have encumbered the tempo slightly in spots – or perhaps that deliberate quality was intentional.  With Bach, as stated by the jury chair Jeffrey Swann, there is such a wide range of possible interpretations – and sometimes that flexibility is applied to expressive manipulations of rhythm – this listener just wasn’t always in complete agreement. The Gigue closed and was wonderfully rhythmic and robust. Among Gigues this Partita’s one is quite a difficult one, with leaps that snag the best pianists, but with only the minutest exceptions Ms. Vahala was right on target. The playing all around was that of a highly accomplished pianist.

The afternoon’s final pianist Tianle Chen played two selections, starting with Bach’s Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring (Chorale from Cantata no. 147) in the Myra Hess version – it was sensitively wrought. As winner in the Goldberg Variations category, he had the dubious obligation to extract a segment from this sacrosanct set, but he chose well (or someone did) with the Aria followed by Variations XX-XXX. Again Mr. Chen impressed. It is probably a challenge to leap from the Aria to Variation XX, especially at the lightning speed Mr. Chen chose for the latter, but for whatever reason it had momentary rough spots that one suspects could have been avoided with a bit more breathing room. Variation XXI was a joy, perfectly clear in each voice. Mr. Chen has superb fingers for detached rapid passagework, and one was reminded of the playing of Gould at times (if that is acceptable to say in this Tureck-oriented environment). In Variation XXIII, Mr. Chen’s staccato sixteenths moved to seamlessly perfect 32^nd notes, and there was tremendous lightness and clarity. Occasionally in the parallel thirds one wanted more “traction” (as well as in Variation XXIX) lest things run away – but all in all one was left simply wanting to hear the whole set. Mr. Chen’s pianism has much to offer the world.

The judges included Jeffrey Swann (chairman), Michael Charry, Emanuel Krasovsky, André Laplante, Joanne Polk, Matti Raekallio, Jose Ramos Santana, Mark Sullivan, and Douglas Sheldon, and a preselection jury of Martin Labazevitch, Mark Sullivan, and the director Golda Vainberg-Tatz.

Congratulations to all of them for their selections, to the young pianists, to their teachers, to the contest administration, and of course to all who learned great repertoire without winning a prize – undoubtedly, they have won in important ways, as does anyone who gets to know Bach’s music. Here’s to hearing more in a few years!

Yuri Vodovoz, violin; David Oei, piano; Guest Artists Tzu-En Lee, viola; Julian Schwarz, cello; Donovan Stokes, double bass

Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY

December 8, 2019

It was a great joy to anticipate the Alaria Chamber Ensemble’s recital at Weill Hall this past weekend, for several reasons – among them the programming itself. The inclusion of a premiere always heightens a listener’s interest (or ought to), and on this afternoon’s program there was to be the world premiere of Eric Ewazen’s Piano Trio No. 2, composed for the Alaria just this year. Surrounding the Ewazen premiere were powerful works by Arvo Pärt, Ernst von Dohnanyi, and Franz Schubert – in particular the ever-popular Quintet in A Major (“Trout”) for piano and strings – so a feast was in store.

The Alaria Chamber Music Program, as one reads in the printed program booklet, has been active since 1984, formerly in residence at Mannes College (The New School for Music), and has been offering master classes, coaching, and concerts at venues throughout the city. The principal performers on this occasion were Alaria board directors Yuri Vodovoz, violinist, and David Oei, a pianist who seems to be simply everywhere on the New York music scene these days. Excellent guest artists were violist Tzu-En Lee, cellist Julian Schwarz, and double bassist Donovan Stokes.

Before even a note was played, one received the impression that the Alaria is run as a well-oiled machine (one can learn more about them at www.alaria.org). A beautiful program booklet with helpful and thorough program notes by Lawrence Bein deserves mention, considering that we complain often enough about poor and patchy notes – or a complete lack of them.  Words of introduction were spoken from the stage by Artistic Director Yuri Vodovoz and Chairman of the Board Peter Frank, and the audience learned that prior Alaria commissions have included works by Paul Schoenfield, Daniel Brewbaker, and Peter Schickele – an impressive enrichment of the chamber music repertoire.

Sunday’s program opened with Arvo Pärt’s elegiac work Mozart-Adagio for Violin, Cello, and Piano (1992) written in memory of the violinist Oleg Kagan, who died in 1990 at age 44. The work is quite haunting, framing and adorning, with dissonances and fragments, the Adagio movement of Mozart’s Piano Sonata K. 280. The trio played it with utter immersion, though at times for this listener the sound was a bit too live and “present” for the otherworldliness of the piece.

The perfect sound was achieved throughout Dohnanyi’s Serenade in C for string trio, Op. 10, played by Mr. Vodovoz with Tzu-En Lee and Julian Schwarz. This five-movement Serenade, composed 1902-4 when the composer was in his mid-twenties, is full of joy and energy, captured well by this ensemble. Each musician had his stunning moments – among them a ravishing viola line from Ms. Lee in the second movement Romanza and some honeyed lyricism from Mr. Vodovoz in the fourth movement Tema con Variazione – but one appreciated in a subtler, more cumulative way the musicianship of Mr. Schwarz, who was responsive in every moment, playing with a beautiful burnished tone when he came to the fore. The Serenade has its treacherous moments – among them the octaves in the frenetic and chromatic central Scherzo, where increasing efforts to match intonation perfectly tend to receive diminishing returns (as opposed to simply yielding to the motoric frenzy, scratchiness notwithstanding); in general, though, one savored Dohnanyi’s exuberance throughout, as these three musicians worked quite well together. Many moments found them melding into a vibrant collective sound, and they clearly delighted in the double-stops and energy of the Finale.

Eric Ewazen’s Piano Trio No.2 followed. This listener has appreciated Mr. Ewazen’s music since hearing his Ballade, Pastorale, and Dance for flute, horn, and piano some years ago, so this premiere was met with avid interest. For those unfamiliar with Mr. Ewazen’s music, he has tended to be (at least based on what this listener has heard) unabashedly tonal, but with a voice that is all his own. He states in his refreshingly clear notes that his influences include the music of Copland, Bernstein, and (from his days at Eastman), Howard Hanson, as a hearing of this trio would attest. The Piano Trio No. 2 is a work that many audiences will be apt to find immediately appealing, as it encompasses lucid neo-classicism, earnest lyricism, and bracing brilliance in the finale. Overall, this listener enjoyed the piece, though not quite as much as the earlier flute-horn-piano work (as some stretches seemed just a bit facilely developed, almost glib – perhaps completed in haste?); that said, it was full of engaging ideas, and with the passion invested in it by the performers, especially by Mr. Oei, who showed the devotion of a champion, it emerged as compelling and closed the first half in triumph. Enthusiastic ovations brought Mr. Ewazen to the stage for a bow, and the commission benefactor, Heather Marcus, was given well-deserved thanks as well.

After intermission came Schubert’s “Trout” Piano Quintet, adding double bassist Donovan Stokes to the four musicians of the first half, Mr. Vodovoz, Mr. Schwartz, Mr. Oei, and Ms. Lee. Clearly, as one could hear from the start, these musicians made up a felicitous five. Schubert added to an already rich musical afternoon, and one already looks forward to the next Alaria program. Congratulations to Alaria, and long may they thrive as an asset to NY cultural life!