East Meets West: Some Lebanese and Armenian Input

East Meets West: Some Lebanese and Armenian Input

 

The Western nations’ fascination with Eastern cultures is not new, and neither is its expression in Classical music. Both French and Russian music of the late 19th and early 20th centuries abound with such examples. Of course, each composer displays his own individual way of turning his inspiration into sound. Camille Saint-Saëns’ pseudo-orientalism in the Bacchanal scene from his opera Samson et Dalila is a far cry from Claude Debussy’s subtle invocation of the pagodas of Far Eastern temples or Balinese gamelans.

Russian composers too delved into Eastern music to expand and enrich their musical idiom. Furthermore, they encouraged young composers from the Caucasus to draw material from the mine of their Eastern musical heritage. Nicolai Rimsky-Korsakov (1844-1908) who is best known for his suite Scheherazade, once said to his Armenian student, Alexander (Spendiarov) Spendiarian (1871-1928): You are an Easterner by birth, you have the East in your blood… My East is in my head, it is contemplative”[i].

Reinhold Glière (1874-1956), the first of the Moscow composers to extend a helping hand to the professional music schools in the new republics of the Soviet East, studied Eastern music and explored ways to synthesize it with traditional European music, saying: “Face the real East, which will enrich modern music… with its original melodic patterns and unusual variety of refined rhythms”[ii].

Russian trained Armenian composer Aram Khachaturian reminisced about his first teacher in Moscow, Mikhail Gnessin: “He taught us to love our folk music and developed our taste of harmony”[iii].

With each generation passing, the merging of Eastern and Western elements in music takes on a new character. Every composer’s personal experience with different cultures shapes the way he makes his own synthesis of the various influences. This article will focus on two Armenian composers, Boghos Gelalian (Part I), and one of his students, Serouj Kradjian (Part II) as well as one European composer who collaborates with Eastern musicians, Klaus Hinrich Stahmer (Part III), with a special emphasis on Armenian and/or Lebanese influence on their oeuvre.

Part I: Boghos Gelalian, an Eastern Composer at the Crossroad

During the three consecutive years of its existence (1964-1966), the Lebanese Competition of Musical Composition, organized by Les jeunesses musicales du Liban, gave an opportunity to its jury members, all European composers invited to Lebanon for the occasion, to express their interest in the role of the Lebanese composer who, they believed, was in an ideal position to make an osmosis between Eastern and Western music, benefiting from the combination of his Eastern cultural roots and his Western education. The most remarkable talent that emerged during these competitions was the Armenian-born Boghos Gelalian (1927-2011)[iv].

Boghos Gelalian

Boghos Gelalian

Born in Alexandretta to Armenian parents who were orphans of the Armenian Genocide, an orphan himself (his father and siblings, like thousands of other Armenian refugees placed in Alexandretta, succumbed to malaria), Gelalian, who was boarding with the Italian Carmelite Fathers, was transferred to Lebanon in 1939 when Alexandretta was annexed by Turkey. As a young child he had been exposed to Armenian and Turkish music in his family, then discovered Western Classical music while studying at the Carmelite boarding school, learning to play various instruments, and accompanying the Latin mass. By age fifteen, Gelalian was on his own in Beirut. In order to survive, he had to play in night clubs as well as upscale hotels. His financial resources being limited, he had to be satisfied with sporadic music lessons, mainly studying composition with Baron Erhast Belling, the former conductor of the orchestra of the Russian Tsar’s Imperial Palace, and Bertrand Robilliard, a French organist and professor of mathematics at the Université St. Joseph. He also accompanied the vocal classes of Mme. Marie Koussevitzky (the famous conductor’s first wife) at the National Conservatory of Beirut, as well as the Armenian church choir. Later, he was hired at the Middle Eastern branch of the BBC as accompanist for the musical programs of the Rahbani brothers. The war of Suez in 1956 put an end to those programs, but Gelalian’s collaboration with the well known Lebanese brothers lasted many decades, allowing him to discover and assimilate Arabic music.

 

Toufic Souccar with Bertrand Robilliard

Toufic Souccar with Bertrand Robilliard

His exposure to various genres of music, from Armenian and Turkish traditional music, to Western light music, jazz, Latin, classical, liturgical, and finally Arabic, gave Gelalian a unique formation as a composer. Mostly self-taught, Gelalian discovered early his leaning towards Eastern sounds. While developing his composer’s skills according to Western canons through the treatises of European composers such as Hector Berlioz, Nicolai Rimsky-Korsakov and Charles Köchlin, he also studied the works of Armenian classical composers such as Spendiarian, Komitas and Khachaturian, to name a few. Moreover, he examined closely the works of Spanish and Russian composers, that he thought were good examples to follow in modal harmony, while still considering J.S. Bach as an “inexhaustible source”.

In the 1960’s Beirut was being introduced to European avant-garde music. Karlheinz Stockhausen was in Lebanon in 1969 for the performance of his work Jeita that took place in the grotto of the same name north of Beirut. Moreover, European composers who were invited as jury members for the Lebanese Competition of Musical Composition, challenged the Lebanese composers to explore a more contemporary idiom.

Karlheinz Stockhausen

Karlheinz Stockhausen

Gelalian was sensitive to the new influence, but resolved to find his personal voice, inspired by Armenian and Middle-Eastern modes. By creatively exploiting the chromatic fragments of such scales, inventing new, artificial scales based on them, then experimenting with their harmonization, Gelalian reached a degree of chromaticism that verges on atonal music. He also experimented with the use of modal cadences (based on a descending diminished fourth), the occasional melismatic development of the melody (hence, a freer approach to rhythm), as well as Armenian and Middle-Eastern rhythmic patterns.

 

Michel Cheskinoff, Henri Dutilleux, Toufic Souccar, Boghos Gelalian, Leila Awad, Wadad Mouzannar

Michel Cheskinoff, Henri Dutilleux, Toufic Souccar, Boghos Gelalian, Diana Takieddine, Leila Awad, Wadad Mouzannar

 

Gelalian invented the French adjective orientalisant  to describe his work which alludes to the Middle-East and is inspired by it without thematic borrowing. Intensely melodic, driven by incessant rhythmic energy, harmonically quite intricate, and highly original, Gelalian’s music strives to transcend all national and cultural barriers to reach a universal public. A French-Armenian critic writes, From the first hearing I was struck by the spontaneity and restraint of this music, as well as its instrumental writing that tends resolutely towards modernism […]. The listener is pleasantly surprised to find not only Armenian folk inspiration, but also a universal dimension that allows any audience to assimilate and accept it very quickly.”[v]

Madeleine Medawar,Henri Dutilleux, Antoine Farah playing the Oud

Madeleine Medawar,Henri Dutilleux, Diana Takieddine, Antoine Farah playing the Oud

Throughout the 60’s and the 70’s Gelalian was hailed as one of the most outstanding talents in his country. He won First, Second and Fourth Prizes in the first edition of the Lebanese Competition of Musical Composition in 1964, and Second Prize in the third edition in 1966 receiving the acknowledgement of such renowned European composers as Pierre Petit, Henri Dutilleux, Hans Heinz Stuckenschmidt, and others.

Madeleine Medawar, Toufic Souccar, Arpie Pehlivanian

Madeleine Medawar, Toufic Souccar, Arpine Pehlivanian

Gelalian’s multifaceted musical career also included collaborating with singers, such as soprano Arpiné Pehlivanian,  and the Diva of Lebanese folklore, Feiruz, orchestral arrangements for the Lahoud Brothers’ musical shows, and teaching piano and harmony at the Beirut National Conservatory of Music. He is the author of a didactic book, Harmonie tonale et modes (1971, 1973) in which he explains his approach to modal harmony, with examples from his own compositions.

He has composed for piano, violin, cello, oboe, flute, voice and orchestra, along with numerous choral and orchestral arrangements. Among his published works are worth mentioning: Sonata per pianoforte (Éditions Françaises de Musique, Maison de L’O.R.T.F., Paris, 1965); Due Vocalizzi per Soprano (Edizioni Curci, Milano, 1968); Sept Séquences pour orchestre (Peters, Leipzig, 1971); Tre Cicli for piano (Ricordi Americana, Buenos Aires, 1969); Quatre Jeux pour flûte seule (Éditions Robert Martin, Mâcon, France, 1979).

Fairuz

Fairuz

Regrettably, there are practically no commercial recordings of Gelalian’s original work at this point, with the exception of an LP recorded by pianist Hasmig Surmelian and violinist Franck Agier (Paris, 1986), including a mixture of piano and violin works, as well as a CD recorded by Wissam Boustany, a Lebanese flautist residing in England, titled Wandering Winds  (Dal Segno, 1998), featuring Gelalian’s work for solo flute. The Lebanese pianist Waleed Howrani is perhaps the most outstanding interpreter of Gelalian’s intricate yet brilliant piano music. The music library of the Université Saint-Esprit in Kaslik, Lebanon, possesses recordings of his electrifying live performances.

Wissam Boustany

Wissam Boustany

Just as his musical development as a student was limited by his orphanhood, and later by the Second World War, Boghos Gelalian’s career as a composer also suffered as a result of several wars that affected the Middle East between the 1950’s and the 1990’s, with the subsequent loss of economic security and cultural life, which explains why this talented composer remained unknown to the rest of the world, and why his creative output remained limited. Economic needs pressed him to spend more time teaching, accompanying and writing arrangements, at the expense of creating original compositions. Moreover, the “brain drain” in Lebanon during the war years caused the composer to lose his favorite interpreters. When asked in the early 1990’s why he no longer composed, his isolation and sadness were apparent in his response: “Who shall I write for?” Nevertheless, Gelalian’s impact on the Lebanese musical world has been significant, as testimonies of his contemporaries indicate. His legacy survives in the work of his students, such as Ziad Rahbani, the son of Assi Rahbani and Feiruz, who has found his individual style of blending Eastern and Western influence in his own work. Another one of his students, Serouj Kradjian, will be our next topic of discussion.

Part II: Serouj Kradjian, an Eastern Musician in the West

Born in Lebanon to Armenian parents, Serouj Kradjian studied piano with Boghos Gelalian before moving to Toronto, Canada as a teenager, where he pursued his music studies at the University of Toronto, receiving a Bachelor’s Degree in Piano Performance. He completed his postgraduate studies at the Hochschule für Musik in Hanover, Germany, and resided several years in Madrid, Spain where he founded and directed the Camerata Creativa. During the 2008/9 season he became the pianist and co-artistic director of the Amici Ensemble in Toronto, replacing founding member Patricia Parr. The Amici Ensemble consists of three core players, clarinetist Joaquin Valdepeñas, cellist David Hetherington (both members of the Toronto Symphony Orchestra), and pianist Serouj Kradjian, and performs with various guest musicians, hence its name Amici.

Serouj Kradjian

Serouj Kradjian

His collaboration with the Amici on the one hand, and his soprano wife, Isabel Bayrakdarian (also an Armenian born in Lebanon) on the other, have led Kradjian not only to display his ability as a brilliant pianist and seasoned collaborative artist, but also – to the surprise of many – as an arranger and composer with a remarkable versatility of styles, ranging from Western contemporary to Armenian, Arabic, and Spanish, to name a few.

His discography traces the path of his career and his gradual transformation into a multitalented musician, always ready to explore different styles, drawing from his own cross-cultural background. In his early years, as a soloist, he recorded Liszt’s Transcendental Etudes as well as piano concerti (on the Warner Music Spain label). His collaboration with violinist Ara Melikian resulted in the recording of Miniatures, an anthology of music written by Armenian composers, as well as Robert Schumann’s three violin sonatas (on the Hässler label).

With soprano wife Isabel Bayrakdarian, Kradjian won a 2006 Juno Award for their recording of Pauline Viardot-Garcia’s songs (Analekta label, 2004). A subsequent recording by the couple dedicated to the songs of Father Komitas (on the CD spelled Gomidas, Nonesuch 2008) received a Grammy nomination in 2009. The repertoire selection of Gomidas Songs consists of folk songs that the musician priest had collected and arranged for the concert stage, with piano accompaniment. Kradjian has tastefully re-arranged the accompaniment for Western chamber orchestra, with the occasional use of the duduk, the Armenian traditional reed instrument. Moreover, his carefully researched liner notes allow the listener to further understand the background history of these Armenian national gems.

Isabel Bayrakdarian

Isabel Bayrakdarian

Between the two aforementioned recordings, Kradjian and Bayrakdarian had the time to release another critically acclaimed recording, Tango Notturno (Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, 2007), a collection of tangos from various countries. Here again, Kradjian displays his talent as arranger and improviser, in addition to that of a brilliant pianist, whereas Bayrakdarian, who enchants the listener with her warm and passionate singing, sounds equally at ease in Armenian, Arabic, Spanish, Finnish, French, German and Italian.

Alexander Arutiunian

Alexander Arutiunian

The first recording that Kradjian made since his collaboration with the Amici Ensemble of Toronto, Armenian Chamber Music (ATMA Classique, 2010), received a Juno nomination in 2011. A bold first step for the new pianist of an ensemble that for over twenty years had been focusing primarily on Western repertoire. The selections on this CD consist of some of the most outstanding chamber works of the Armenian repertoire, such as Arno Babajanian’s Trio for violin, cello and piano, Aram Khachaturian’s Trio for clarinet, violin and piano, Alexander Arutiunian’s Suite for clarinet, violin and piano. Perhaps the most unexpected novelty of this recording is an original composition by Serouj Kradjian, Elegy for Restive Souls. Written in memory of the 20,000 plus victims of the earthquake that devastated Armenia in December 1988, the work is rich with allusions to Armenian traditional music, folk as well as spiritual. Following it is Parsegh Ganachian’s Lullaby, Oror, arranged for clarinet and four cellos by Kradjian, and exquisitely sung by Bayrakdarian.

Kradjian’s exploration of cross-cultural compositions grows steadfastly from here. In his words, when he presented the idea of a CD dedicated to music evoking the Levant (Western Asia) and including works by Middle Eastern composers, his Amici colleagues were “amused” and “intrigued”. The recording won a Juno Award in 2013, the first in the Amici Ensemble’s 25 year history. As Kradjian explains in the liner notes, “Numerous musical traditions have influenced what we now call Middle Eastern music. The musical instruments of ancient Greece; Jewish music […]; medieval Armenian and Syriac hymns; the strongly melodic Arabic scale […]; Arabic stringed and percussion instruments – all have played an important role in developing a musical culture that has inspired and fascinated composers of Western music in the last two centuries.”

Osvaldo Golijov

Osvaldo Golijov

The selections on this CD are mostly new to the Western listener, with a few exceptions such as Sergei Prokofiev’s Overture on Hebrew Themes for clarinet, string quartet and piano, Op. 34, and Alexander Glazunov’s Rêverie orientale, Op. 14, No. 2 for clarinet and string quartet. For the rest, the listener is invited to explore a very original repertoire by such composers as the Greek-Armenian spiritual teacher George Gurdjieff, the Armenian composer and musicologist Gayané Chebotarian, the Iraqi-born Syrian conductor, composer and educator Solhi Al-Wadi, the Lebanese Rabih Abou-Khalil, the Yugoslav composer and educator Marko Tajčević, and Jewish-Argentinian composer Osvaldo Golijov whose work Levante gave its name to this CD. Extensive liner notes by Kradjian are very helpful in understanding the background of each composer and their work. Born in the Levant himself, perfectly at ease in all the styles in which he performs, Serouj Kradjian is the perfect link between the Western audiences and the Eastern (or Eastern influenced) music that he offers.

Solhi Al Wadi

Solhi Al Wadi

 

Rabih Abou Khalil

Rabih Abou Khalil

 

His last recording is a recent Juno nominee: Troubadour and the Nightingale (MCO Records, 2013), in collaboration with the Manitoba Chamber Orchestra, conductor Anne Manson, and featuring soprano Isabel Bayrakdarian, brings Kradjian’s versatile and creative talent to a culmination. In the detailed and informative liner notes, the composer explains that the idea of this recording developed through his interest in “the lives, poetry and music of the trobairitz, who were the female troubadours of the 12th and 13th centuries, emerging from Occitania, in the South of France, bordering Spain.” Their art flourished during the Crusades, but with the return of men from the war, this “beautiful and unique tradition, which had a life span of about sixty years, simply disappeared”.

The trobairitz were Occitan female troubadours of the 12th and 13th centuries.

The trobairitz were Occitan female troubadours of the 12th and 13th centuries.

Kradjian explains that he was especially fascinated by the enigma surrounding the life and work of one female troubadour, Trobairitz Ysabella, whose real identity remains a mystery. His original work titled Trobairitz Ysabella[vi] is his interpretation of her journey, “while exploring her possible identities.” An instrumental overture is followed by A Woman from Périgord, which is based on two canzos (songs) composed by the most famous trobairitz of the period, Comtessa del Dia, who was a contemporary of Ysabella. This movement is sung in the Occitane language. The next piece explores her journey From Jerusalem to Andalusia. “The first part is a mystical and evocative medieval prayer in Hebrew”, which is followed by a Mouashah, “a sophisticated musical genre that originated in Arab Andalusia. The text is taken from a passionate and daring poem in Arabic by Hafza Bint al Hajj, who was one of the very few female poets in medieval Andalusia.” The final movement, Duel with Elias Cayrel, “is the English translation of the only surviving tenso (poem) originally written by Trobairitz Ysabella.”

Elias Cayrel

Elias Cayrel from a 13th-century chansonnier

The theme of the troubadours presents an excellent opportunity to Kradjian and Bayrakdarian to introduce to their Western audience the greatest of 18th century Armenian troubadours, Sayat Nova, with four of his most beloved songs: Nazani, Blbouli Hit, Kani Voor Janim, and Kamancha. This is not a purist’s version, but rather one that aims at a universal audience with a taste for classical music. Kradjian’s orchestration for Western orchestra (with the addition of the oud and frame drum) evokes the traditional instruments and playing style that are habitually used in Sayat Nova’s songs.

Marguerite Babaïan

Marguerite Babaïan

And lastly, the Mediterranean context evoked by Trobairitz Ysabella, invites the French composer Maurice Ravel to be part of the repertoire in this recording with Kaddish, a prayer in Aramaic, as well as the cycle Five Greek Songs. This recording also features a less frequently performed sixth Greek song, Tripatos, dedicated to the Armenian soprano Marguerite Babaian who had requested it from the composer, and who sang the cycle very often. All of these songs have been arranged for chamber orchestra by Kradjian.

The “Nightingale” of this recording is of course Isabel Bayrakdarian. Her warm and captivating voice, radiant and supple, captures well the Mediterranean temperament. Her expressive range is wide and colorful, and her ease with the various styles and languages perfectly matches her composer husband’s versatility.

Partners in life and in music, Serouj Kradjian and Isabel Bayrakdarian have well understood the growing curiosity of Western audiences for new repertoire that has its roots in various cultures, new and old. Drawing on their own qualities as Eastern born and Western educated artists, and incessantly researching original themes and repertoire, they have carved a distinct niche for themselves in the highly competitive field of musical performance.  It would be fair to state that the Canadian multicultural environment that celebrates diversity, as well as the presence of a number of highly talented musicians in Toronto – including Kradjian’s partners in the Amici Ensemble, in addition to an eager audience, combined with their own talent and amazing versatility, have all contributed to the development of two exciting careers.

Part III: Klaus Hinrich Stahmer: The Western Composer and the Possibilities Offered by Avant-Garde Music

As an increasing number of Eastern people travel to Western countries (permanently or temporarily), the interaction between the two cultures, East and West takes on a greater significance than in the past. The Western composer’s proximity to Easterners allows him to exchange knowledge and experience firsthand with more thoroughness than ever. Moreover, the advent of the internet has helped to obliterate the barriers between East and West very fast, offering the Western composer endless examples of music from all over the world to explore.

In addition to the above, avant-garde music gives the composer experimental opportunities that were previously impossible with the use of more traditional compositional techniques. In the hands of an insightful composer, the combination of avant-garde and Eastern inspiration can result in a music that is attractive and refreshing. Such is the case of the German composer and musicologist, Klaus Hinrich Stahmer, who also works as a freelance author for the Bavarian Broadcasting Corporation in the field of world music.

Stahmer has developed a keen interest in composers of Eastern origin who use contemporary Western musical language while incorporating elements from their cultural tradition in their works. By exploring these composers’ styles, he strives to expand his own musical expression: an approach that reminds one of certain composers from the turn of the last century, such as Debussy, but with a contemporary twist. In his correspondence with the author of these lines, Stahmer states,“When investigating other countries with the special respect to their contemporary music, one of my aims is to learn more about my colleagues [who are] rooted in these foreign (for us) cultures and their approach towards Western modern style. Because I myself with my roots in so called avant-garde thinking and writing have found our Western music much too narrow minded and try to acculturate Non-European music without entering the swamps of ‘world music’.”

Klaus Hinrich Stahmer

Klaus Hinrich Stahmer

The present article will explore the example of one of Stahmer’s compositions, Gesänge eines Holzsammlers (Songs of a Woodcutter, Ghina’û Hattab in Arabic), based on poems of the Lebanese poet Fuad Rifka (published by WERGO, a division of Schott Music & Media, Mainz, Germany, in 2010, and recorded on ARTIST, catalog number ARTS 8109 2).

In his liner notes, the composer explains that he heard Rifka’s poems at a reading where the poet recited his poems in Arabic after introducing his German audience to their contents through translations beforehand[vii]. Stahmer knew right away that he – in his own words – “wanted to write music for them, but no ‘musical settings’; no songs, but music ‘interpreting’ the poems at a text-less level[viii]. Then he explains the two reasons why he felt attracted to that reading: first, “the ‘speech music’ of Arabic poetry which I could not understand without any knowledge of Arabic, yet ‘enjoyed’ listening to”. He elaborates, “I had never heard the Arabic language spoken in such a melodious and loving way – that was a tone which I was looking for in my music!”[ix]

Fuad Rifka

Fuad Rifka

The second reason for Stahmer’s interest in Rifka’s poetry is the subject matter: “the content of the diary-like notes of an eighty-year-old who had braved all dangers, who had not abandoned his home country Lebanon during the fifteen years of civil war, and who sees himself today as a survivor whenever he thinks of old times and friends. Even twenty years after the end of the battles, his country knows the word ‘peace’ only from hearsay: This is what Rifka’s poems talk about in powerful images and concise language, too.” Of course the composer had a chance to work with the poet in person, since the latter regularly spent several days in Germany, during which “Rifka’s views of the world and attitude towards life were gradually revealed to me.”

Stahmer wanted to “document the unmistakable sound of Rifka’s voice (…). The ‘speech music’ of the Arabic language was to become part of my composition, and I wanted to be able to listen to these recordings again and again and have my music developed out of it.”

The final work that lasts over 72 minutes, is divided into four main parts[x], each part alternating recitation in Arabic, recitation in German translation and musical performance, in various orders:

a) Introduction: Stahmer used one of Rifka’s poems as a prologue and “planned to let the whole work begin with an introductory quotation as in classical antiquity (Like the steam rising from the springs / from the woods / the chant rises up…).”

b) Mourning: consists of texts giving expression to sorrow and grief (“Give the elegies their language/ oh morning star/oh great weeping star).”

c) Fate: Rifka frequently speaks about ‘fate’, which pushed Stahmer to choose poems for this section in which the Lebanese speaks about the powers that threaten and transform his country.” This is followed by a three part sequence from the poet’s Diary of a Woodcutter “like a nucleus of crystallization. To me, it was like a self-portrait of the poet (He has grown older now / and nobody is with him).”

d) Epilogue

Stahmer’s choice of instruments consists of piano and Oriental frame drum, “an instrument that is not played from music and for which I had to go to great lengths to find out its compositional possibilities. In Murat Çoskun[xi], I found a musician with whom I got on well soon and whose way of eliciting rhythms and ornaments from the big frame drum I was allowed to observe attentively.” Achieving a fine balance between Eastern improvisatory style and Western fixed compositional style, Stahmer concludes, “I wanted to give him space in individual movements so that he could accompany the texts (improvisatorially), in other passages he was to play in accordance with the given notation – an approach from two sides”.

In the sounds of the piano and drum, used both individually and combined, Stahmer has succeeded in finding a most gripping expression of the emotion in Rifka’s poetry. The sparsity of the notation, the harmonic language, as well as the long rests that create a hollowness in which the sound of the piano slowly decays, effectively convey the void created by war and destruction, both emotional and physical, surrounding the isolated “survivor” whose friends either died or emigrated. The pairing of piano and Eastern drum is particularly haunting with the deep resonance of their combined lower pitches.

Gilbert Yammine

Gilbert Yammine

Perhaps the most unexpected composition that Stahmer offers in this vast work, is a piece written for qanun (Middle Eastern zither), titled Zikkrayat (Memories)[xii]. He writes, While listening to many recordings of the Middle Eastern qanun music, my piano style gradually changed and got closer to becoming a monody interspersed with playful elements, and I had the idea of writing something for qanun myself”. Always mindful of maintaining the integrity of the two styles, Stahmer reminds the reader that Middle Eastern modes (Maqam’s) are very different from the Western tempered scales, and therefore combining piano and qanun  would be out of question. Instead, “I wanted to invent a specific basic temperament for the instrument, a scale based on Pythagorean perfect thirds, and then the playing technique of my music was to correspond to the traditional techniques of the Middle East without becoming just a copy of it”. In his quest for understanding the instrument and its technique, the composer collaborated with the Lebanese qanun player, Gilbert Yammine, “a versatile master of his trade”.

Very recently the composer made a four movement work out of the passages of the CD, where piano and frame drum play along with the poet’s reading. “Aschenglut” for piano and oriental frame drum will be premiered in Hamburg (April 2014) by Murat Coşkun and Rei Nakamura[xiii]. As for the three piano solo pieces of Gesänge eines Holzsammlers, they recently appeared separately and can be performed under the title Ghina’û Hattab[xiv].

A sampling of other works by the same composer on his web-site[xv] have confirmed the present author’s first impressions: always careful never to fall into cheap imitation of Eastern music, Klaus Hinrich Stahmer has skillfully created a fine balance between Eastern and Western elements in his compositions that are highly original, of a refined taste, and quite attractive.

Conclusion

Both Armenia (in the Caucasus) and Lebanon (in the Middle East) have historically played important roles in connecting East and West, in the fields of trade as well as culture. It is only natural that they continue to play a vital role in the merging of cultures through the work of their artists, or through their influence on Western artists.

The possibilities of merging Eastern and Western music and art are inexhaustible, and depend largely on the individual artist’s talent and creativity. This article attempted to show three different cases of musicians with very different life experiences, each contributing to merging Eastern and Western art in a highly individual manner. Each artist is the mirror of the environment he or she lives in, and has a very unique way of expressing elements of that environment.


LIST OF RECORDINGS
Oeuvres de Boghos Gélalian, Franck Agier (violin), Hasmig Surmelian (piano), Gravure DYAM, Pressage M.P.O., Imprimerie Glory, Paris, 1986 (HS 0586)
Wandering Winds, Wissam Boustany (flute), Dal Segno, 1998
Pauline Viardot-Garcia, Isabel Bayrakdarian (soprano), Serouj Kradjian (piano), Analekta, 2004 (AN 2 9903)
Tango Notturno, Isabel Bayrakdarian (soprano), Serouj Kradjian Tango Ensemble, CBC Records, 2007 (MVCD 1176)
Gomidas Songs, Isabel Bayrakdarian (soprano), Nonesuch Records, 2008 (511487)
Armenian Chamber Music, Amici Chamber Ensemble, ATMA Classique, 2010 (ACD2 2609)
Levant, Amici Ensemble, ATMA Classique, 2012 (ACD2 2655)
Troubadour & the Nightingale, Isabel Bayrakdarian (soprano), Anne Manson (conductor), Manitoba Chamber Orchestra, MCO Records (MCO 013001)
Gesänge eines Holzsammlers, Klaus Hinrich Stahmer, WERGO (a division of SCHOTT MUSIC & MEDIA), Mainz, Germany, 2010, recorded on ARTIST label (ARTS 8109 2)

Notes:

[i] Victor Yuzefovich, Aram Khachaturian, Sphinx Press Inc., New York, 1985, p. 44
[ii] Idem, p. 31
[iii] Idem, p. 27
[iv] All information in Part I is derived from: Araxie Altounian, Boghos Gélalian, l’homme, le musicien, l’oeuvre, Centre d’édition et de diffusion du livre, Université Saint-Esprit de Kaslik, Lebanon, 2002.
[v] Azad, “Un 33 T consacre l”oeuvre de Boghos Gelalian”, in: France Arménie, Paris, 1986 (precise date unknown)
[vi] Commissioned by the Manitoba Chamber Orchestra.
[vii] Fouad Rifka was born in 1930 in Syria, and moved to Lebanon as a child. He held a Doctoral degree in German philosophy from the University of Tübingen, Germany, and was a faculty member of the American Lebanese University (LAU) in Beirut until his death in 2011.
[viii] This and the following quotations are excerpts from Klaus Hinrich Stahmer’s own liner notes for the CD Gesänge eines Holzsammlers.
[ix] In Arabic poetry recitation, long vowels and double consonants are exaggerated highlighting its unique rhythmic character, which explains in part the “melodious” quality of the recitation, the other part being Rifka’s own voice and style.
[x] The formal disposition, including the choice of the poems, was discussed and elaborated between Rifka and Stahmer and can be considered a common product.
[xi] Turkish drummer residing in Germany.
[xii] “Zikkrayat” for Qanun solo (Verlag Neue Musik)
[xiii] “Aschenglut” (Verlag Neue Musik).
[xiv] “Ghina’û Hattab”for piano solo (Verlag Neue Musik).
[xv] www.klaushinrichstahmer.de

Araxie Altounian for New York Concert Review, New York, NY

Araxie Altounian holds a PhD in Musicology from the Université Saint-Esprit de Kaslik, Lebanon, and a Médaille d’or  in piano performance from the Conservatoire Régional de Val Maubuée, France. Established in the Toronto area since 1992, she runs a successful piano studio and is the author of various articles as well as a book, Boghos Gélalian: l’homme, le musicien, l’oeuvre.

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The Fourteenth Van Cliburn International Piano Competition in Review

THE FOURTEENTH VAN CLIBURN INTERNATIONAL PIANO COMPETITION:Bass Hall, Fort Worth, Texas
May 24-June 8, 2013
 
 
Van Cliburn

Van Cliburn

In the spirit of Independence Day, as Americans turn thoughts towards some of the great sources of American pride and achievement, it is hard in the piano world to find a better, more obvious source of pride in the past century than the late pianist Van Cliburn, who died just February 27th of this year. The quadrennial piano competition he inspired, The Van Cliburn International Piano Competition, just took place in Fort Worth and keeps that pride going. If Van Cliburn’s explosive victory at the 1958 International Tchaikovsky Piano Competition in Moscow was like a skyrocket that had him dubbed the “American Sputnik” at the height of the cold war, what we’ve seen roughly every four years since then have been the streaks of firework colors shooting from that initial burst. Exceptional pianists from all over the globe have come to public attention through “the Cliburn” as it has come to be known, and this year’s edition was no different.

Van Cliburn’s story is well known, but, for a brief background, the “gentle giant” Texan was just 23 when his performances at the 1958 Tchaikovsky Competition moved audiences in a way that no space race or diplomacy could, hence, the comparisons to the satellite Sputnik (launched the year before by the USSR). Mr. Cliburn, previously a Leventritt Award winner, was a piano student of the renowned Russian pianist and teacher, Rosina Lhevinne at the Juilliard School. Known for playing with a mastery and spirit that many considered distinctly Russian, Mr. Cliburn roused the Russian people, who chanted “First Prize!” from the audience. His music affected world politics, compelling Khrushchev to “approve” the American’s victory, and he inspired a ticker-tape parade that flooded New York streets with over 100,000 cheering fans. Van Cliburn’s victory and legacy, including legendary recordings, have been an inspiration for generations of pianists ever since, directly and indirectly.

In 1962, Fort Worth arts patrons and teachers started the International Van Cliburn Competition in tribute, when Mr. Cliburn was only age 27 (close to the age of many current contestants). Since then it has grown exponentially. Mr. Cliburn was a generous and nurturing presence at these events until his death at 78 this winter, and it is clear from the footage that everyone at the 14th Cliburn was feeling his absence profoundly. Contestants said in interviews that they had looked forward to being able finally to shake their idol’s hand – or in some cases, to meet him once more. The Cliburn now carries on in the wake of its great loss, still sure to grow and redefine itself.

The Winners:  Beatrice Rana, Vadym Kholodenko, Sean Chen

The Winners: Beatrice Rana, Vadym Kholodenko, Sean Chen

If Texas is associated with all things larger than life, the seventeen days of performances by 30 contestants and more than 70 hours of music and speeches certainly fit the bill. So did the prizes. After selecting twelve semifinalists and then six finalists, judges chose Vadym Kholodenko (26, Ukraine) as the recipient of the Nancy Lee and Perry R. Bass Gold Medal, the Van Cliburn Winner’s Cup, and a cash award of $50,000. He will also receive career management and international and U.S. concert tours for the three concert seasons following the Competition, studio and live recordings produced by Harmonia Mundi, USA, and performance attire provided by Neiman Marcus.

The Silver medalist Beatrice Rana (20, Italy) and Crystal award winner Sean Chen (24, USA) each receive a cash award of $20,000, career management and U.S. concert tours for the three concert seasons following the Competition, and a live recording produced by Harmonia Mundi, USA, of Competition performances. The remaining three finalists will receive cash awards of $10,000 each, and concert tours and management for three concert seasons. They are Fei-Fei Dong (22, China); Nikita Mndoyants (24, Russia); and Tomoki Sakata (19, Japan).

For the sake of thoroughness, there were numerous other awards too. The Steven de Groote Memorial Award for the Best Performance of Chamber Music, with a cash prize of $6,000, was awarded also to Vadym Kholodenko, as was the Beverley Taylor Smith Award for the Best Performance of a New Work (the commissioned test piece “Birichino” by Christopher Theofanidis), accompanied by a cash prize of $5,000. The winner of the John Giordano Jury Discretionary Award, with a cash prize of $4,000, was Steven Lin, 24, USA. The winner of the Raymond E. Buck Jury Discretionary Award, with a cash prize of $4,000, was Alessandro Deljavan (26, Italy). The winner of the Jury Discretionary Award, with a cash prize of $4,000, was Claire Huangci (23, USA), while the Audience Award, voted on by nearly 24,000 visitors to Cliburn.org, was Beatrice Rana, who will receive an additional cash award of $2,500. Semifinalists receive cash awards of $5,000 each, and Preliminary Round competitors receive cash awards of $1,000 each. No one leaves empty-handed, and each contestant receives invaluable exposure (live streamed over the Internet) along with the prestige of being part of an elite group selected from screening auditions.

Thirty competitors, ranging in age from 19 to 30, were chosen to come to Fort Worth from all over the world. They represented 13 nations: the United States (7), Italy (6), Russia (5), China (3), Ukraine (2), Australia/UK, Chile, France, Japan, South Korea, Poland, and Taiwan. Distinctions of nationality, however, seem irrelevant, given the effects of globalization. The sole Polish contestant currently studies in the USA, two of the Italians currently study in Germany, and the list goes on. Sure, the Russian influence has left a strong mark on nearly all today’s great pianists through the legacies of its leading teachers scattered across the globe, but those who maintain that the US is somehow the pianistic “little brother” to Russia are needing to reevaluate that idea.  A Cold War it is not. Incidentally, the Tchaikovsky Competition was just in its premiere edition in 1958, the year Van Cliburn won, so it is preparing just now, like the Cliburn, for its 15th edition. To add to the fun, Richard Rodzinski, the former Executive Director of the Van Cliburn Foundation for 23 years and the one who initiated live webcasts of it, left his job at the Cliburn in 2009 to help clean things up as General Manager of Russia’s Tchaikovsky Competition! Who is leading whom? To those prone to hate mail: that is not thrown out as a challenge, just a question – allow me, please, my momentary Fourth of July indulgence.

As for any heated political controversies at this year’s Cliburn, they centered on more individual issues, such as the presence of several jurors whose students were competing (though ostensibly even this controversy had been addressed with special voting regulations – hmm). Aside from those matters, the debate was largely artistic, as it should be. Consequently the differences over “who should have won” are largely irreconcilable. While the very existence of the word “competition” seems to suggest there is a possible Victory with a capital “V”, the piano world has moved farther and farther away from that notion since 1958, despite the appeal of awarding prizes. Would a non-competitive showcase be better, as some have suggested this year (given the pseudo-scientific nature of arts judging with “apples and oranges” repertoire)? It is an interesting question to toss around, but as anyone who has watched or played in an international piano competition knows, it is an experience that combines the excitement of a sports event with the poetry of the arts, plus the drama that reality TV can only attempt to convey. How better to draw in the world of listeners?

About “apples and oranges”: in the days of stricter repertoire requirements, where one Bach work might be compared with another of a similar genre, eliminations were easier, though there were always still many elements of subjectivity. Performers may have been eliminated for messiness, memory trouble, harsh tone, uneven finger technique, lack of contrast, or the like, all within the same pieces, so winners were sometimes chosen for the absence of negatives rather than for anything particularly positive. The last one standing after such eliminations might “win,” though only time would tell whether he could creatively put a program together or stir audiences. Like the defensive playing one hears in conservatory jury exams, a generation of generic playing ensued. That emphasis on execution brings to mind the famous joke about the young prodigy, “What do you think of his execution?” to which the reply is, “I’m all for it.” Such contests were frequently dry and dull, and many would have trouble making the leap into the Internet video age. Your reviewer herself came from that period where such rules often prevailed, and challenges such as “jump to the Fugue” or “coda, please” were routinely thrown mid-performance at unsuspecting victims – I mean pianists. Bartók’s famous phrase, “competitions are for horses, not artists” said it well.

By contrast, with more contests such as the Cliburn now allowing freedom of choice in repertoire, things are much more interesting, though even more subjective. Aside from quintets of Dvorak, Franck, Schumann or Brahms – played with the much admired Brentano String Quartet – plus one test piece by Christopher Theofanidis, and a required Beethoven or Mozart Concerto with the Fort Worth Symphony Orchestra under Maestro Leonard Slatkin, a contestant had complete freedom. In 45 hours of free recital in the Preliminaries (30 contestants) and 12 hours of free recital in the Semi-finals (12 contestants), there is bound to be some variety, and that is a good thing for turning the public on more to classical music; with that artistic liberty, however, come new dilemmas. One is that such contests are not just pitting pianist against pianist, but composer against composer, Bach and Chopin, Scarlatti and Alkan, Fine and d’Indy (OK, I couldn’t resist that last one). How does one separate the musician from the music? Or to quote W. B. Yeats: “O body swayed to music, O brightening glance,
 How can we know the dancer from the dance?”

A contestant is assessed for his repertoire choices as much as for his playing, so the old Independence Day lesson is once more learned: Freedom is not free.  The stakes grow higher as bloggers and reviewers and the public slam the contestants on a daily basis via Twitter and Facebook. The faint-hearted may view the whole process as barbaric or gladiatorial, something akin to “The Hunger Games,” so it was no coincidence that contestant Claire Huangci cited that film’s Katniss Everdeen as her hero; fortunately, though, alternate routes for musical careers are flourishing, so these are voluntary gladiators, soldiers of music, if you will (and even if you won’t!). They will emerge with their own individual followings, and some are among the most passionately devoted (not to mention mentally tough) performers you will find.

Starting with Katniss herself, Claire Huangci (23, USA) drew “Number One” in the playing order at the competition’s draw party (yet another aspect where luck cannot be removed from the equation). Her Beethoven Sonata Op. 101 betrayed no opening jitters whatsoever, but was warm with a glow that said she was there to love each note, whatever the result. She lived up to the maxim that one should perform at competitions as if they were simply recitals. In the seven-minute Theofanidis test piece, she winningly captured the humor suggested by its title, “Birichino” (translated as “prankster”).  Ms. Huangci also earned bonus points from me for some of her fresh programming, including the underplayed Mendelssohn Fantasy, Op. 28 (also on the program of Steven Lin, USA), the first Kapustin Étude of Op. 40  (bringing in a jazz influence), and, in her second preliminary recital, Mikhail Pletnev’s transcriptions from Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty, which she played wonderfully. Several commentators thought that choosing such a frothy transcription would undermine her credibility and mean the end for her, but it didn’t, at least initially, as she pulled it off well. Sadly, though, she was not advanced to the finals.

Transcriptions and paraphrases are steadily gaining popularity, and I for one love them, though I admit they can make the judging harder than it is with standard repertoire (begging questions such as how much tempo liberty is too much, etc. – often impossible to answer in these cases). Their resurgence has even spawned rumors of returning to some repertoire restrictions as opposed to the current carte blanche. Others who brought out transcriptions included Tomoki Sakata (19, Japan), who offered an exuberant account of the rarely played Pabst Concert Paraphrase from Tchaikovsky’s Eugene Onegin in his second preliminary round. He in fact made it to the finals, remarkable for the youngest contestant, but a rough Tchaikovsky Concerto No. 1 seemed to pull him from medal consideration. His Pabst will be remembered as a highlight – along with a highly intense performance of Scriabin’s Sonata No. 5. His passion seemed even to surprise himself at one point, as I saw for the first time ever what seemed to be a pianist cupping his mouth with shock mid-passage. Lindsay Garritson (25, USA), a very strong player, also programmed her Semifinal round to include two transcriptions, the Kreisler- Rachmaninoff Liebesleid and Liebesfreud, choices that struck one on the page as too mellow for such a high-stakes competition, though she didn’t make it to the Semifinals to test that theory. A little lightness is fine, of course, but every minute counts, so there is little room for music that one might call diffuse. I would have enjoyed hearing her again, though, as she is an extremely gifted pianist. Don’t let the ” all-American girl next door” look fool you – this woman can play! Her Liszt Ballade in B Minor was exceptionally good, with dazzling left hand passagework, and her Prokofiev Sonata No. 7 was powerful and exciting.

On the topic of making every minute count, Yekwon Sunwoo (24, South Korea), was an alternate until a few weeks before the competition, and pulled a rabbit out of a hat with his beautifully polished programs. He joined the transcription fun with Grünfeld’s Soirée de Vienne paraphrase on Strauss Waltzes, Op. 56. Mr. Sunwoo played the piece brilliantly, but perhaps was too keenly aware that he needed to make every minute count; it seemed to take on a taut intensity that ran counter to the cavalier spirit that engendered so many of these. These are all pieces that hearken back to the so-called “Golden Age” of pianism, which seems to hold increasing fascination for young pianists (the Tchaikovsky-Pletnev being a newer set, but in the same vein). They offer ample room for displaying scintillating technique while emphasizing the “entertaining” aspect of music, not just the educational or artistic (not that these are mutually exclusive!). As they are primarily salon showpieces, I would hate to see them constantly cropping up in contests in lieu of études.

On a side note, composers who re-worked their own original works for piano (such as Ravel, whose La Valse we heard from Mr. Sunwoo) seem to fall in a less controversial category. The same in general goes for transcriptions by 19th-century greats such as Liszt, whose transcriptional styles were not always distinguishable from their mainstream compositional styles. Stravinsky was also ever-present with his Pétrouchka (which, by the way, Stravinsky did not even call a transcription): it was on programs of no fewer than eight pianists, if I counted correctly, though not played in each case: Nikita Abrosimov, Sean Chen, Vadym Kholodenko, Stephen Lin, Kuang-Tin Lin, Alex McDonald, Alessandro Taverna, and Jie Yuan. My favorite happened to be that of Gold medalist Kholodenko who lent just the right primitive character to the folk ballet music. His ending was so explosive that it seemed to startle even himself – one of the more endearing moments of the competition, as he slowly made his way off the bench with a stunned look.

Why so very many Pétrouchkas though? Yes, it is a terrific piece. I love it and could hear it over and over again, but isn’t it rather interesting in view of the “free choice” aspect of the contest? Aren’t there other equally powerful closers? Composers, get to work!  Ravel’s “Gaspard de La Nuit” was also heard frequently, often enough in my opinion to be dubbed Gaspard de “l’ennui” especially when including “Le Gibet.” Forgive me if this reflects incipient Attention Deficit Disorder, but there are only so many hangings one can take in a day. The repeated offerings of most other works I enjoyed, Prokofiev Seventh Sonata, the Chopin Preludes Op. 28, various Liszt, Haydn, Ligeti, and more.

Scipione Sangiovanni (25, Italy) followed Ms. Huangci with a strong reading of Bach’s Partita in E Minor. Starting with a work of such transparent counterpoint in a competition is one of the ultimate tests of focus. One cannot simply rely on muscle memory, power through octaves, slam down the pedal, and hope for the best, so, my hat goes off to those who open with Bach in such a pressure situation. Mr. Sangiovanni combined amazing control with much spirit and musicality. After a second Preliminary Round starting with Beethoven’s wonderful (and long) Sonata Op. 2, No. 3, I began to think Mr. Sangiovanni was seriously overestimating his audience’s attention span. All needed to catch fire more, and he may have sensed this by the time he got to Franck’s Prelude, Chorale, and Fugue, which went the other direction. I like this young pianist, so I was sad to see him eliminated, but I think he needs to rethink his strategy in choosing contest repertoire. I felt the same way about Yury Favorin (26, Russia) whose choices were refreshingly different, but probably too much for the audience, including the cacophonous Boucourechliev’s “Orion 3” right alongside the Wagner-Liszt Tannhauser Overture and following a much less beloved Schubert Sonata (the E-flat, D. 568). Mr. Favorin’s second Preliminary round featured Liszt’s Harmonies Poetiques et Religieuses, which I love, but which may have been too much for the Lisztophobes. If he had made the Semifinals, there would have been Alkan (Symphony, Op. 39, nos 4-7). He is an explorer, indeed, one who may possibly do better in recording and specialization, rather than mainstream competitions.

A similar reaction arose from the rounds of Alessandro Taverna (29, Italy). He is wonderfully adventurous in programming, with some highly individual urges to explore less trodden turf, but I see his gifts as more of the specialized variety than what is usually fully appreciated at most competitions. If he faced a choice between playing to educate, express, ennoble, or entertain, I believe he would seek to educate. He clearly has a brilliant grasp of thorny music that is inaccessible to many, so one can imagine him producing extremely interesting recitals and recordings. His programs, which included Mendelssohn Sonata No. 3 in B-flat, Messaien’s “Regard de l’esprit de joie” (from Vingt Regards), and Medtner’s Sonata Minacciosa (Op. 53, No. 2) – plus ones we didn’t get to hear, Scriabin Sonata No. 10, Ligeti, and Kapustin Variations – all could be a good antidote to eight Pétrouchkas. Without even knowing the pianist, I would be drawn in to attend such recitals, but these are problematic selections for contests. Mr. Taverna is a pianist of intelligence, technique, and maturity. He commands my admiration for continuing to meld his concert work with the rigors of contests – but it must feel like wearing a sweater several sizes too small for an entire year or more.

So, what exactly is “contest repertoire?” One must express oneself, yes, but also one must earn the trust of his listener, including the jury.  It is an irritating fact, but until one proves one can do absolutely anything, critics and jurors often misconstrue certain expressive choices as failings, rather than intentions. Contestants who fare the best usually jump through a few pianistic hoops as well as musical ones. Some presented complete sets of études, as if to say “satisfied? Now you know I can do what I mean to do.” The complete Chopin Études Op. 25 were played beautifully by Alessandro Deljavan (26, Italy), while Eric Zuber (28, USA) made an excellent traversal of Chopin’s Études, Op. 10. Both Deljavan and Zuber faced other criticisms in the press, though, ranging from objections to facial expressions to repertoire issues (one critic disliking Zuber’s choice of the Mozart A Minor Rondo, K. 511 – yet labeling it the “C Major” Rondo. *Sigh*). In any case, whatever the grievances were, few could dispute that these gentlemen handled the keyboard with mastery and sensitivity. Other groups of études included Bartok, Ligeti, Scriabin, Rachmaninoff, Prokofiev, and Liszt. Another champion of études at this event was Vadym Kholodenko (yes, again, the Gold Medalist), who clobbered us with 11 of Liszt’s 12 Transcendental Études (all but La Ricordanza). At first the choice struck me as unmusicianly, but he did them with such ease and power that he was hard to fault. I don’t so much enjoy hearing all of these Études in a row, but they did make a statement about Kholodenko’s prodigious abilities. While it is good to treat a contest as just a recital, it is a recital with someone playing right after you, possibly more dazzlingly, so repertoire needs to be planned accordingly. One also needs to be a bit hungry to win.

On the idea of hunger to win, Beatrice Rana (20, Italy) said she knew since visiting Fort Worth at age 16 that she wanted to return as a contestant. Naturally talented and from a musical family that had her touching the piano when most children are playing with rattles, she unsurprisingly displays a solidity and ease that is reflected in every fistful of notes. Undemonstrative and even-tempered, it seems that all she probably needed to do at 16 was to take aim and hit the bull’s-eye. She chose repertoire that she could confidently play beyond criticism. Her Clementi Sonata in B Minor had some truly beautiful phrasing right from the start. Schumann’s Symphonic Études and Abegg Variations, Ravel’s Gaspard de la Nuit, Bartók’s “Out of Doors” Suite, Chopin’s 24 Preludes, and Scriabin’s Second Sonata were among her chosen works, and they were all excellent. Many musicians viewed her second place ranking as an outright affront. I was not so swept up in the Rana-mania, I must admit. At the risk of sounding like the spoiled diner fussing between Ossetra and Beluga caviar, I sometimes overdosed on the element of ease. While it is staggering to be so masterful at 20, sometimes the audience needs to feel the climb, the surprise, even the element of struggle in order to reach the highest highs that music can offer. A colleague described it well, that while Kholodenko seemed ready for a huge career, Rana seemed ready for this contest. The huge career is starting for her now, though, and hopefully its large demands will not hinder further growth. As Ms. Rana herself was quoted as having said to the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, “When you win a competition, the real competition starts.” With wisdom like that, she’ll do well.

Undoubtedly there were many of the contestants from musical families like that of Beatrice Rana, but one of the most notable ones was Nikita Mndoyants (24, Russia), whose father Alexander Mndoyants placed Fifth in the 1977 Cliburn Competition. Young Mr. Mndoyants performed beautifully in all rounds and is clearly “to the manor born.” 
His choice of Taneyev Prelude and Fugue, Op. 29, felt a bit like a tribute to earlier Russian pianism, but it was an interesting addition, as something less often heard today. It built to tremendous excitement. I also enjoyed Mndoyant’s Polonaise-Fantaisie of Chopin, a difficult piece to pull off with both reverie and energy. He succeeded. Six Sketches of Babadjanian were another welcome addition, excitingly played. Mndoyants is a rather undemonstrative player: his expressiveness was completely focused through the fingers, with a minimum of wasted motion, yet he was still magnetic to the viewer.

On the other end of the spectrum visually was Alessandro Deljavan (26 of Italy), the subject of much discussion because of his extremely noticeable (to many, distracting) facial expressions. He also had a connection to the Cliburn, having previously entered in 2009 – the only returnee this year. One would think that his mastery of enormous monuments of the piano literature (from Bach Partita No. 5 to Beethoven’s Sonata Op. 57, to Schumann’s sprawling Fantasy in C Major and a dozen other challenges) would eclipse other topics- he played extremely well, after all. Unfortunately some objected to the fact that he made everything interesting – a problem in itself, underscored by the facial mannerisms that changed by the nanosecond. The fact that we are in an age of Internet videos raises visual concerns that no one had to bother much with back in 1958. If one had worried about such things, how would André Watts, Glenn Gould, and numerous others with physical idiosyncrasies have fared (even Horowitz in some less than aesthetically thrilling moments)? On a side note how would any of yesterday’s greats have coped with the “human interest” profile videos made this year? Questions thrown at contestants ranged from, “what is your favorite color?” to “what is your favorite body part?” (Really, Cliburn?) These were icebreakers, indeed, but I can’t help laughing to think of, say, the great Sviatoslav Richter having to field such silliness.

Given the fact that a Cliburn winner will be in the public eye constantly for at least three years of engagements, extra-musical concerns are growing larger. It won’t be easy for all pianists to address them. Physical or facial idiosyncrasies creep into one’s practicing easily from strain to feel the emotions of each note or phrase. Many claim they are not necessary, but Deljavan says he has tried unsuccessfully to get rid of them. In truth many of the contestants face the same issues.  The resultant looks ranged from that of a crying baby in tender passages to that of the player holding something unpleasant-smelling at arm’s length – and perhaps the most popular of all this year in stentorian passages, the “here comes the judge” frown. Given the opposite playing style, could a contestant expressing beautifully through the fingers alone but with the demeanor of an undertaker ever be chosen as a winner? I, myself, prefer the least possible visual distraction, whether excess contortion or excess pageantry, but I can’t deny that in some cases some physical involvement can enhance the experience. It all seems like an unpleasantly commercial topic within the arts, but musicians can’t justifiably complain about flagging public interest or market without some slight consideration of the same.

Fifty-one years ago, no one would have foreseen the world of classical music as it is now, both hyped and numbed by the Internet, with the instant “reviews” of live streaming and YouTube performances on social networks and blogs; these developments have drawn and will draw an ever wider audience for the competition and for young artists in general, but they have also changed the nature of the Cliburn. How much will it need to reinvent itself? Will there one day need to be a Botox award (thinking of all those wrinkling foreheads) to go with the wardrobe award? Or will the audience be what bends and grows? In an age where everything is filmed in unforgiving detail, including childbirth, bearers of life have a certain exemption from visually oriented criticism. Perhaps the bearers of some of the finest music in the world might be afforded the same. Some of the most wonderful musical experiences do happen with the eyes closed.

This seems a good time to return to the pianists themselves, namely Luca Buratto (20, Italy), a young and unselfconscious player who seemed hardly to have given a thought to dress or image – or else simply chose not to wear a jacket. Whatever the reason was, he seemed comfortable and immersed himself completely in the task at hand. He played with engaging intensity, though occasionally with some eccentric exaggerations of articulation. His Bach Toccata in C Minor was bold and uncompromising. His first rounds’ Haydn, Schumann (notably the Fantasy in C Major), and Bartók (the Sonata) bode well for an impassioned life in music. When all is said and done, the contest ends but the music remains.

When one is tired of saying, “Wow, what a pianist” one can always sigh, “Ah, music…”  Schubert is one composer who has that effect on me (as does Brahms), and perhaps for that reason, one does not hear his music so much in piano competitions. When it is done perfectly, one notices it much more than the performer.  Gustavo Miranda-Bernales (22, Chile),
who received a fair amount of criticism for not fitting in with the firebrands, gets big points from me for eliciting the “ah, Schubert” sigh. Offering up the Four Impromptus, Op. 142, he gave them simple interpretations that had no self-conscious nuancing but simply their own intrinsic shadings – something that requires a good deal of natural responsiveness and musicality. One felt the changes in color and even temperature in them, as each moved from harmony to harmony. He took the leap of faith that the music would hit the listeners in the heart: in some cases it worked. Nonetheless, he needs to carefully consider future competitions. He still needs some work on the “Wow, Gustavo!” part.

Sean Chen (24, USA), who played a strong first round of Bach, Chopin, and Bartok, made one of the the biggest impressions of the contest in choosing Beethoven’s Sonata, Op. 106 (The “Hammerklavier”) for his entire second Preliminary recital. A brave move, it bespoke a serious, thinking artist, not merely a contest horse. As I felt also regarding the Liszt B Minor Sonata, I’m not so keen on parading these enormous masterworks as vehicles in a venue of so much self-promotion, but these rounds were called recitals, so one had to suspend disbelief. Plus, if one avoids all the mammoth masterworks and all the fluff, what is there but middle-of-the-road repertoire? In any case, the risk paid off for Mr. Chen. He played well, and after Finals that included Beethoven’s “Emperor” Concerto and Rachmaninoff’s 3rd Concerto, he won the Crystal award. I was only sad to miss his Brahms Variations on an Original Theme, Op. 21 (from the Semifinals) – a slice of pure heaven that is often overlooked in favor of that composer’s other variations (on Handel and Paganini themes). His Semifinal round is nowhere to be found, but perhaps it is being prepared for commercial release.

Nikita Abrosimov (24, Russia) was a late replacement for an absentee contestant. With only a few weeks to prepare, he offered Brahms C Major Sonata, Prokofiev Eighth Sonata, the Rachmaninoff-Corelli Variations, Stravinsky’s Pétrouchka and more – quite a feat! His Brahms struck me as a bit stolid initially but it grew on me. His was thoughtful, measured, and very committed playing. He made the Semifinals, but sadly we did not get to hear his Concerti. I look forward to hearing more from him.

Sara Daneshpour (26, United States) is a pianist who has impressed me in prior concerts as both brilliant and highly expressive. It was heartening to see that her kind of genuine artistry captured audiences at Fort Worth as well to the point where her early elimination was widely viewed as a shock. Her pearling passagework and clarity in Schumann’s Abegg Variations opened her first program beautifully, but Chopin’s Scherzo in E Major matched its beauty with warmth of tone and graceful phrasing. It was theorized that the jury may have pounced on some glitches at the opening of the latter, since no other reason seems plausible. Her Prokofiev Sonata No. 7 was just as ferocious and rhythmic as one would want and almost seemed not to have come from the same player as that of the Chopin. A highlight was also her “El Amor y la Muerte” of Albeniz. The lucky thing, despite sadness over not hearing her in the Semifinals (or her Chopin E Minor Concerto!), is that we will continue to hear from her without a doubt.

Ruoyu Huang (24, China)
was one of the pianists who offered the complete Chopin Preludes, Op. 28 (along with Beatrice Rana, Jie Yuan, and Fei-Fei Dong). He performed the set quite well, despite some minor mishaps (as often happens, especially with the B-flat minor). He pointed up some subsidiary melodies that won my heart forever in the E-flat Major Prelude and gave a good strong D-Minor close to the set. Schumann’s Fantasy in the other Preliminary round seemed a bit raced, going beyond Schumannesque impulsiveness and verging on jagged-edged, with some tonal harshness (and messiness in large leaps). Overall, though, Mr. Huang did quite well.

Steven Lin (24, USA) is another intense and dramatic performer, one who always seemed to give one hundred percent. I liked this quality, even if I didn’t always like his repertoire choices.  I did like his choice of Carl Vine’s Sonata No. 1, and he played it extremely well. His Bach Overture in the French Style was also refreshingly off the beaten path, but I wasn’t keen on his Liszt choice, Réminiscences de Don Juan (after Mozart). Even as a lover of Liszt in general, I’ve had this piece bring on a few too many headaches. Mr. Lin’s was not one of those performances but was about the best I’ve heard recently – still, those initial reactions can persist. He almost made me a believer. The virtuosic displays were dazzling with the electricity of Horowitz, and the tongue-in-cheek wit was handled with elegance. All in all, Mr. Lin possesses the technique, the personality and the probing intelligence to make me want to hear him again, so I regretted that he was not in the Semifinals.  As an aside, Mr. Lin made quite an impression last year at another competition (in Japan) when he performed right through a 6.5 earthquake. If you want to see it, it is currently viewable on YouTube. All young pianists are advised to be able to concentrate through such an earthquake, but few actually have to!

On the subject of Liszt, more than half the contestants offered Liszt works in their programs. Memorable ones included the Mephisto Waltz No. 1 played by Alexei Chernov (30, Russia), who also played Ravel’s Gaspard de La Nuit with brilliance (but no histrionics – hurray!) and the less frequently heard Scriabin Études Op. 65. I was very much hoping to hear more from him.

 Kuan-Ting Lin (21, Taiwan) was slated to play a Mephisto Waltz as well, but we didn’t hear from him in the Semifinals. We did hear from him some other Liszt and Schubert-Liszt, which showed him as a player of considerable potential.

Giuseppe Greco (23, Italy) played the Liszt B Minor Ballade (as had Garritson) but it was his Beethoven Op. 31, No 3 that impressed most as mellow and musically mature for his age. Some of these young players are mature so far beyond their years that I actually wanted more of that youthful ecstatic feeling – Greco’s L’Isle Joyeuse (Debussy) was a case in point, as I wanted more feeling of the surges building (ironically something that involves taking more time, rather than less). All in all, though, he showed tremendous potential.

And more Liszt:  Lindsay Garritson added an excellent Jeux d’eaux à la Villa d’este, and Wilde Jagd.  Jayson Gillham (26, of Australia/UK) contributed the Spanish Rhapsody, though he also seemed most at home in his Beethoven (“Waldstein” Sonata, Op. 53) and other works. He is a player of lucid intelligence and precision.

Nikolay Khozyainov (20, Russia) played one of the standout études of the competition, Liszt’s Feux Follets, but he needs a bit more time (and I do) before I can enjoy his performance of the same composer’s B minor Sonata. Also, though I love the Sonata and play it, it is easy to develop something of an emotional immunity to it over the course of competitions. There is something about such a dramatic juggernaut being trotted out as a vehicle to further the careers of contestants which gets one’s emotional guard up – like hearing the famous Hamlet soliloquy over and over in acting auditions. One starts to wonder whether the grimaces are from the cosmic struggle inherent in the piece or from the inner pleading with the heavens to win. Fei-Fei Dong (22, China) played a very praiseworthy rendition of it, but the same reservations persisted. These are absolutely wonderful pianists – let there be no mistake – but after a while the gnashing of teeth and tearing passion to tatters becomes unbearable. Where Fei-Fei Dong really impressed in her solo work was in Lowell Liebermann’s Gargoyles, a set that should be played much more often but was given a brilliant reading in Ms. Dong’s hands. She was on top of her game throughout, with immaculate Clementi and Chopin. Many considered her a contender for the Gold, and sure enough she was one of the final six.

And more Liszt: Alex McDonald (30, USA) offered a persuasive (and physically restrained) version of the B Minor Sonata – hallelujah! – but I still would rather hear him do it in a real recital (yes, after a relentless procession of pianists, even the suspension of disbelief that I’m at a recital wears out). Mr. McDonald followed with Takemitsu’s Raintree Sketch II – an ingenious touch  – and it seemed to wash the blood, sweat, and tears from the stage. Ravel’s “Oiseaux tristes” in his other round was also beautiful. When he spoke he was philosophical, almost professorial – all very good, but there did not seem to be any particular hunger to win. He is an artist with a mature perspective and much to offer.

And more Liszt: Oleksandr Poliykov (25, Ukraine – what a great month for Ukrainians!) gave a brilliant performance of Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody No. 9 and the Wagner-Liszt Liebestod; nothing, however, touched the magnificence of spirit in his Brahms F Minor Sonata, Op. 5. Some annoying smudges aside (only annoying because all else was so good), his was a conception I could embrace. Some of the younger neatniks would have staked their lives on fixing those smudges in practice, but I’ll take each one, if in such an expressive pursuit.

And more Liszt; Tomoki Sakata, whose Scriabin had impressed, also gave a good stormy workout to Liszt’s Dante Sonata and an earlier version of the better-known La Campanella. Unfortunately I found his tone too similar in Beethoven’s Sonata Op. 54, but the jury chose him as one of six Finalists regardless.  Jie Yuan (27, China), a pianist of large technique, offered more Liszt, with a Semifinal Spanish Rhapsody, but we never got to hear it, nor Zuber‘s Liszt Sonata in B minor. I have probably forgotten several other Liszt performances.

Not too surprisingly some listeners “overdosed” on Liszt. Reviewer Scott Cantrell stated that, “The competition could do itself a great favor by forbidding Liszt — even the substantive Sonata, which young pianists usually distort grotesquely.” While I would agree that some moments of excessively bangy Liszt had me rethinking whether I liked certain pieces, I would find a piano competition excluding only Liszt as plausible as a French cuisine competition without butter.  Liszt’s oeuvre gives players enough leeway to express an endless range – the pianist determines what emerges as epic versus cornball. It may puzzle some that in a competition offering such freedom of repertoire, so many contestants still choose the same works, but Liszt has always been synonymous with piano virtuosity, so it is here to stay.

Francois Dumont (27, France) programmed still more Liszt pieces – selections from Liszt’s Années de Pelerinage – but again we were never allowed to hear them. Anyway, it was his Chopin that “had me at hello.” Chopin’s Sonata No. 3 put him on my list for ones to watch and marked him as a real musician, not to mention his Debussy, Ravel (Gaspard) and Mozart (the Sonata K.310). It was a mystery how he did not get through to the Semifinals at least, but I have a feeling we missed something special in his Beethoven Op. 111. Oh, well.

Other notable Chopin came from Marcin Koziak (24, Poland). He played Chopin’s Scherzo in B-flat minor sensitively, but it was the Nocturne in F-sharp Major that showed real tenderness. His Szymanowski Mazurkas Op. 50 were also a good addition – they are much too seldom played. His Rachmaninoff Second Sonata suffered in my opinion from too much bringing out of inner voices in the slow movement (though his first movement was good). It seems as if some players feel that we have heard this piece enough and must find new and different angles. I love the occasional flash of light into a neglected corner, but we are not so bored with it (and I personally will never be) that we need the flashlight aimed so far below the horizon.

If one is at all tired of hearing the immensely lovable Sonata No. 2 of Rachmaninov, there is always Rachmaninov’s Sonata No. 1 in D Minor, if one can hold it together! This less popular sibling found life in the hands of none other than this year’s Gold Medalist Vadym Kholodenko. Many criticized it as a lesser, even unworthy work, but it certainly was a breath of fresh air and needs a champion, aside from those recording it to complete a recorded set with its popular “better half.” It is long, but with Mr. Kholodenko’s sense of pacing, it mostly held together – and that is saying a lot! Preceding it with China Gates by John Adams was a stroke of brilliance – as the minimalist work set up the perfect backdrop for romantic outpourings. His Beethoven Sonata Op. 109 showed an admirably mature grasp as well.

All in all, I am at very much at peace with the choice of Vadym Kholodenko as the top winner of this Cliburn. While this article focused on free choice repertoire, Kholodenko’s Quintet and Concerto rounds were winning as well. His Mozart Concerto K. 467 (with original cadenzas supposedly written on the flight to the US) was delicately expressive, and Prokofiev Third Concerto provided enough fireworks for a Fourth of July celebration. In a way, this pianist’s career didn’t need the jumpstart, but it is often the case that those who don’t need it are the ones who win.

The Jury of the 2013 Van Cliburn International Competition included: Maestro John Giordano (United States) – chairman of the jury for his eleventh competition since he assumed the post in 1973. Other jury members included: Dmitri Alexeev (Russia), Michel Beroff (France), Andrea Bonatta (Italy), Richard Dyer (United States), Joseph Kalichstein (Israel), Yoheved Kaplinsky (Israel), Liu Shih Kun (China), Minoru Nojima (Japan), Menahem Pressler (United States), Blanca Uribe (Colombia), Arie Vardi (Israel), and Xian Zhang (China).

The reader can hear nearly all of these rounds online via the archived video recordings at Cliburn.org (though some may have already been removed). Catch them while you can. I already look forward to 2017!

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Quotes from Famous Composers, Opera Singers, Instrumentalists, and Conductors

As a boy, I mesmerizingly lost myself in books. After all, words mean things, and we are all judged, in part, by the words we use. In those pre-internet days, frequently I hung out at my library, eager to learn what was going on – both near and far. As a budding pianist, one thing that was particularly exciting was discovering famous musicians’ autobiographies – what they said about themselves, others. their lives, and their milieus.

For this writing, I’ve assembled quotes from famous composers, opera singers, instrumentalists and conductors. It is my intent to amuse, and enlighten you with vignettes from some of those revered in the field of music who have shared their thoughts with us.

COMPOSERS

1) Wagner: “Don’t look at the trombones. It only encourages them.” “I write music with an exclamation point!” “Whatever my passions demand of me, I become for the time being – musician, poet, director, author, lecturer or anything else.”

2) Liszt: “Without any assistance whatever, I founded a school in Weimar in 10 years. Only I could perform certain works with the scanty means that I dared not ask anyone else to work with.” “It is my fervent wish and greatest ambition to leave a work with a few useful instructions for the pianists after me.” “In Hungary, all native music, in its origin, is divided naturally into melody destined for song or melody for the dance.”

3) Beethoven: “Music should strike fire from the heart of man, and bring tears from the eyes of woman.” “What you are, you are by accident of birth; what I am, I am by myself. There are and will be a thousand princes; there is only one Beethoven.” “Tones sound, and roar and storm about me until I have set them down in notes.”

4) Rossini: “Wagner has lovely moments but awful quarter hours.” “Give me a laundry-list and I will set it to music.” “Eating, loving, singing and digesting are, in truth, the four acts of the comic opera known as life, and they pass like bubbles of a bottle of champagne. Whoever lets them break without having enjoyed them is a complete fool.”

5) Stravinsky: “Lesser artists borrow, great artists steal.” “Harpists spend 90 percent of their lives tuning their harps and 10 pecent playing out of tune.”The trouble with music appreciation in general is that people are taught to have too much respect for music. They should be taught to love it instead.”

6) Puccini: “Inspiration is an awakening, a quickening of all man’s faculties, and it is manifested in all high artistic achievements.” “Art is a kind of illness.” “Who has sent you to me? God?” In a letter to Liszt. When first hearing Caruso sing.

 OPERA SINGERS

1) Domingo: “The high note is not the only thing.” “But I won’t deprive myself of singing opera as long as my voice follows.” “If I rest, I rust.”

2) Melba: “The first rule in opera is the first rule in life: see to everything yourself.” “One of the drawbacks of fame is that one can never escape from it.” “If I’d been a housemaid I’d have been the best in Australia – I couldn’t help it. It’s got to be perfection for me.”

3) Pavarotti: “Learning music by reading about it is like making love by mail.” I think a life in music is a life beautifully spent and this is what I’ve devoted my life to.” “If children are not introduced to music at an early age, I believe something fundamental is actually being taken away from them.”

 4) Callas: “An opera begins long before the curtain goes up and ends long after it has come down. It starts in my imagination, it becomes my life, and it stays part of my life long after I’ve left the opera house.” “When my enemies stop hissing, I shall know I’m slipping.” “That is the difference between good teachers and great teachers: good teachers make the best of a pupil’s means; great teachers foresee a pupil’s ends.”

 5) Marian Anderson: “It is easy to look back, self-indulgently, feeling pleasantly sorry for onself and saying I didn’t have this and I didn’t have that. But it is only the grown woman regretting the hardships of a little girl who never thought they were hardships at all. She had the things that really mattered.” “A singer starts  by having his instrument as a gift from God . . . when you have been given something in a moment of grace, it is sacrilegeous to be greedy.” “When I sing, I don’t want them to see that my face is black. I don’t want them to see that my face is white. I want them to see my soul. And that is colorless.”

6) Beverly Sills: “My voice had a long, nonstop career. It deserves to be put to bed with quiet and dignity, not yanked out every once in a while to see if it can still do what it used to do. It can’t.” “Art is the signature of civilizations.” “You may be disappointed if you fail, but you are doomed if you don’t try.”

INSTRUMENTALISTS

1) Casals: The most perfect technique is that which is not noticed at all.” “Music is the divine way to tell beautiful, poetic things to the heart.” “We should say to each of them [our children]: Do you know what you are? You are a marvel. You are unique. In all the years that have passed, there has never been another child like you. Your legs, your arms, your clever fingers, the way you move. You may become a Shakespeare, a  Michelangelo, a Beethoven. You have the capacity for anything. Yes, you are a marvel. And when you grow up, can you then harm another who is, like you, a marvel?”

 2) Segovia: “Lean your body forward slightly to support the guitar against your chest, for the poetry of the music should resound in your heart.” “The guitar is a small orchestra. It is polyphonic. Every string is a different color, a different voice.” “The advice I am giving always to all my students is above all to study the music profoundly . . . music is like the ocean, and the instruments are little or bigger islands, very beautiful for the flowers and trees.”

3) Horowitz. “I am a general. My soldiers are the keys and I must command them.” “My face is my passport.” “I must tell you I take terrible risks. Because my playing is very clear, when I make a mistake you hear it. If you want me to play only the notes without any specific dynamics, I will never make one mistake. Never be afraid to dare.”

4) Landowska: “Oh well, you play Bach your way. I’ll play him his.” “I never practice. I always play.”  “The most beautiful thing in the world is, precisely, the conjunction of learning and inspiration. Oh, the passion for research and the joy of discovery!”

5) Heifitz: “There is no top. There are always further heights to reach.” “I occasionally play works by contemporary composers and for two reasons. First to discourage the composer from writing any more and secondly to remind myself how much I appreciate Beethoven.” “Criticism does not disturb me, for I am my own severest critic. Always in my playing I strive to surpass myself, and it is this constant struggle that makes music fascinating to me.”

6) Wynton Marsalis: “I believe in professionalism, but playing is not like a job. You have to be grateful to have the opportunity to play.” “There was one thing Beethoven didn’t do. When one of his string quartets was played, you can believe the second violin wasn’t improvising.” “Don’t worry what others say about your music. Pursue whatever you are hearing but if everybody really hates your music maybe you could try some different approaches.”

CONDUCTORS

1) Stokowski: “A painter paints his pictures on canvas. But musicians paint their pictures on silence. We provide the music and you provide the silence.” “As a boy I remember how terribly real the statues of the saints would seem at 7 o’clock Mass – before I’d had breakfast. From that I learned always to conduct hungry.” “On matters of intonation and technicalities I am more than a martinet – I am a martinetissimo.”

2) Ormandy: “Why do you always insist on playing when I’m trying to conduct?” “I’m one of the boys, no better than the last second violinist. I’m just the lucky one standing in the center, telling them how to play.” “Muti* is going to do the Alpine Symphony this year. He will do it well because it is not very well known.”

3) von Karajan: “I find the final passage especially significent and profound, a kind of artistic will and testament.” “I said to the orchestra, ‘If there are discords we must always play them as beautifully as we know how.’ A discord is not an excuse for ugly music-making, for playing out of tune.” “Mahler’s music is full of dangers and traps, and one of them, which many fell into, is oversensualizing the thing until it becomes sort of . . . kitsch.”

4) Toscanini: “Can’t you read? The score demands ‘con amore,’ and what are you doing? You are playing it like married men!” “To some it is Napoleon, to some it is a philosophical struggle, to me it is allegro con brio.”* “If you want to please only the critics, don’t play too loud, too soft, too fast and too slow.”

5) Levine: “I grew up in an era where an orchestra was like a treasure chest.” “It’s just that, when the orchestra looks at me, I want them to see a completely involved person who reflects what we rehearsed, and whose function is to make it possible for them to do it.” “It [the orchestra] has to be able to play at the maximum expression and communication in every style, and the only way you can do that is – like Verdi said – working with a file, every day, little by little, until the orchestra’s collective qualities emerge.”

6) Bernstein (As conductor): “The key to the mystery of a great artist is that for reasons unknown, he will give away his energies and his life just to make sure that one note follows another . . . and leaves us with the feeling that something is right in the world.” “Technique is communication: the two words are synonymous in conductors.” “This will be our reply to violence: to make music more intensely, more beautifully, more devotedly than ever before.”

Afterword

In the spirit of fun and appreciation of all those who have shared their opinions – enriching our lives, I offer a final quote from a much-loved pianist, author, raconteur, comedian and actor, Oscar Levant:

What the world needs is more geniuses with humility. There are so few of us left.
Bless you,
Oscar

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The 2012 William Kapell International Piano Competition Ends

The Kapell Competition Ends With An Evening of Concertos

After a concert last night in which the three Finalists played concertos with the Baltimore Symphony at the Clarice Smith Center’s Dekelboum Hall, the results of the 2012 William Kapell International Piano Competition are in, and they are as follows:

1st Prize – $25,000 to Yekwon Sunwoo, 23, of South Korea 2nd Prize – $15,000 to Jin Uk Kim, 28, of South Korea 3rd Prize – $10,000 to Steven Lin, 23, of the US The Chamber Music Award also went to Mr. Sunwoo.  A list of the other awards given can be found at:  http://claricesmithcenter.umd.edu

Well, it was a very exciting Final Round at the Kapell Competition, and there were some surprises.  Anyone who has been reading my postings will know that I expected — from the first ten seconds of his first performance — that Steven Lin would win the First Prize.  Based on his performances throughout the 2 weeks of the event, I still feel that way.  This opinion, however, should take nothing away from the actual First Prize winner, Yekwon Sunwoo, who played spectacularly well — particularly the Rachmaninoff Third Concerto, which he played in the Semi-Finals (with a really superb accompaniment by pianist Colette Valentine, an ideal collaborator and a wonderful pianist in her own right), as well as in last night’s Final Round with the Baltimore Symphony and conductor David Lockington.  On both occasions he let the beast loose with daring tempos, plenty of sonority and an especially ringing top.  He cut mightily through what was often a pretty heavy handed orchestral accompaniment and, I think, therein lay his victory.

Mr. Lin, who had in every performance up to the Finals demonstrated a truly breathtaking technique as well as an imaginative and attention-compelling musicianship that was well beyond what I was hearing from his colleagues, was simply swamped by the orchestra throughout his performance of Rachmaninoff’s Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini.  Mr. Lockington and the BSO should take a share of the blame for this, there were passages, especially from the low brass, that were seriously, almost ridiculously, overplayed.  (Was it Richard Strauss who said, “Never look at the brass, it only encourages them”?)  But Mr. Lin, who at 23 is tall but still slight of frame, is going to have to find a much more robust tone when he next sits down in front of an orchestra, or risk another annihilation.

Jin Uk Kim, the Second Prize laureate, took a broad, encompassing view of Brahms’ Second Piano Concerto with its wide landscape of sun and shade.  The first movement was leisurely and reflective in tone; the second, which Brahms referred to jokingly as “a tiny, tiny wisp of a scherzo,” was suitably growly and threatening.  The Andante third movement was a glass of fine brandy and a cigar, an interlude of near stillness heightened by Chang Woo Lee’s plangent cello solo.  The final Allegretto grazioso was subjected to a rather speedy interpretation of that tempo marking, but it sparkled and danced and the notorious runs of double thirds in both hands seemed to cause Mr. Kim no distress — in fact he strode through all the really thorny pianistics with no problems at all but cracked a fair number of notes in less difficult spots.

As I said at the beginning of my coverage of the Kapell, an event like this reminds us all of how many terrific pianists there are seeking careers.  Not all of them will succeed, of course, but a number of competitors who didn’t make it to the Final Round still gave wonderful, memorable performances.  To wrap this up, here (in no particular order) are a few of my happier memories from the past two weeks:  Diyi Tang in Gaspard de la nuit, Guilliaume Masson’s Canope by Debussy, Jeewon Lee’s Tchaikowsky Concerto and Kreutzer Sonata (with Melissa White), both Misha Namirovisky and Alexandre Moutouzkine’s Scriabin performances, Younggun Kim’s Poulenc Novelettes and Prokofiev 7th Sonata, Julia Siciliano in the Waldstein Sonata, Chien-Lin Lu’s Chopin Bacarolle…, so many.  Congratulations to all who participated.

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Anton Kuerti in Review

Anton Kuerti in an all-Beethoven recital

You overhear these conversations all the time at concerts:  “Well, he/she didn’t put enough emotion into it.”  Or:  “He/she put a lot of emotion into it.”  Non-musicians can be forgiven for being confused by this issue, but the fact is (in my opinion, anyway) that “putting emotion in” is about 95% of the time the result of following the written directions of the composer, laid out in the score.  These guys (and gals) knew what they were doing, especially Beethoven who was positively obsessive about putting the most minute instructions in his manuscripts, occasionally on nearly every note.  It’s when performers don’t really take the trouble to learn the music in depth, when they take the once-over-lightly approach, or worse, when they decide that they know better than Mr. van B, that they end up sounding cold, or unemotional, and generally run aground on a lousy performance.  They’re not cold, they’re just lazy.  You don’t add emotion, you allow it to emerge by really knowing the musical score in the deepest possible way.  A good musician has to master it all — to internalize every detail of the composer’s instructions — and only then begin to decide how to best reproduce the work.

Anton Kuerti is not lazy.

Mr. Kuerti’s extraordinary all-Beethoven program last night — two Sonatas: the Op. 26 in A-Flat, and the Op. 57 in F minor “Appassionata” plus the massive 33 Variations on a Waltz by Diabelli, Op. 120 — was overflowing with carefully observed details, and, as a result, it had the kind of effect on the emotions that most performers think they are achieving but never do.  Kuerti has studied these works for a lifetime, and knows every jot in these scores.  So, one could ask, is there no room for individuality?  For a more personal interpretation?  Of course there is, and Mr. Kuerti’s playing was full of freedom and fantasy — individual touches like the tiny delays which served to intensify cadences and provide breathing room in phrases — it’s just that he started from a place where every mark Beethoven put on the page was accounted for in full, and embedded in his playing.

Anton Kuerti

Audiences don’t get the opportunity to hear a performance like the one Kuerti gave last night very often.  This audience clearly knew it and erupted in a standing ovation as soon as the Diabellis, which closed the program, ended.  This enormous set of 33 magical variations on perhaps the most banal tune ever written, something like 55 minutes in length (I glanced at my watch as  it began intending to time it, but became so engrossed in the playing that I forgot to look again), is not the sort of piece that usually calls forth that kind of reaction.  It is of great length, relentlessly repetitive, and worst of all it ends slowly and quietly.  Nevertheless the audience, with more than a few of the worlds best pianists sprinkled in, was on its feet at the end — a well earned tribute to the fantastic journey it had just taken with Mr. Kuerti leading the way.   The pianist is 74 now, and his fingers occasionally slip.  It matters not at all.  For a couple of hours last night, he showed us what a good musician is, and what a good musician does.

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Review of Jeremy Denk at The 2012 William Kapell International Piano Competition and Festival

Jeremy Denk in Recital

Pianist Jeremy Denk is carving out a major career as an advocate, and a very persuasive one, for the music of Charles Ives and Gyorgy Ligeti.  In addition to his work as accompanist to megastar violinist Joshua Bell, the last couple of years have seen him record both Ives Sonatas as well as two books of Ligeti Études.  His recital at the Kapell Competition Wednesday night provided a look at both his superbly worked out  and deeply understood Ligeti Études, and a sample of his way with more standard repertoire in the form of Brahms’ Klavierstücke, Op. 118 and Book 1 of his Paganini Variations, Op. 35.  Playing all of the Études and the Paganini Variations on the same program would be considered by many pianists to be a suicide mission.  Both sets are incredibly technically demanding and physically taxing in the extreme.  I think by the end of the evening, even Mr. Denk may have had second thoughts about the wisdom of undertaking it.

Jeremy Denk

Jeremy Denk

He opened his recital with books one and two of Ligeti’s Études (there is a third book which remained unfinished at the composer’s death in 2006).  The first two books contain fourteen études and, as Mr. Denk explained, the last of these was considered, even by Ligeti himself, to be unplayable by an unaided human.  Denk’s traversal of the other thirteen was rhythmically and tonally alive, secure, and tossed off with a  remarkable sense of freedom from technical struggle.  Mr. Denk has internalized these unremittingly complex pieces to an amazing degree.  He still plays them from the score — more of a security blanket than a necessity, I suspect, since they are for all practical purposes unreadable from the page — but he’s clearly not bound to the printed notes.

After all that paradoxical ease in the Études — the result, to be sure, of a staggering amount of work — the six pieces of Brahms’ Op. 118 could have used more struggle.  Not in the technical sense, but in mining their depths for the intensely emotional content they hold.  It was all a bit charming and gemütlich, even the Paganini Variations which were also taken at tempos that occasionally flirted with pandemonium.  The enthusiastic response brought out two encores, and Denk took the term literally.  He repeated one of the Ligeti Etudes and the Intermezzo, Op. 118, No. 2 of Brahms.  You have to admire all that hard work, but really — he never heard of the Spinning Song?

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Leon Fleisher in concert

Leon Fleisher

Leon Fleisher

Legendary pianist Leon Fleisher appeared in a rare recital Thursday evening at the William Kapell International Piano Competition and Festival at the University of Maryland campus in College Park.  It was an emotional event for the many pianists present as Mr. Fleisher, now approaching his 84th birthday, entered the stage moving slowly and looking a bit frail.  Fleisher’s meteoric career began as a child prodigy, becoming at 9 a student of the great Artur Schnabel, followed by a First Prize at the Queen Elizabeth of Belgium Competition in 1952 and continuing upward throughout the 1950s and early 60s with ecstatic notices and a series of concerto recordings with George Szell and the Cleveland Orchestra that are still unsurpassed.  It all fell to earth in 1965 when a problem with the nerves in his right arm, diagnosed many years later as focal dystonia, rendered his fourth and fifth fingers useless.  Decades of often painful search for a cure followed while Mr. Fleisher ventured into conducting, and became a much beloved teacher at the Peabody Institute in Baltimore, a position he took up in 1959 and still holds today.   There were flashes of hope along the way — I remember being glued to the television, practically holding my breath, while he played the Franck Symphonic Variations about 30 years ago.  Again about fifteen years later there were some performances, and then most encouragingly, in 2004, the release of his CD Leon Fleisher: Two Hands.  I heard him then, in a concert in a friend’s living room in New York, play Egon Petri’s transcription of J. S. Bach’s Sheep May Safely Graze so beautifully that I had to wipe the tears from my eyes.  Whatever success in treatment there has been, however, doesn’t seem to last and the artist who appeared before a full auditorium to warm and appreciative applause last evening, did so with the fingers of his right hand visibly clenched.  He played, except for duets with his wife Katherine Jacobson, only left-hand repertoire.  Still, it was not so much how Mr. Fleisher played, though there was a craggily beautiful account of the Bach Chaconne transcribed for the left hand by Johnannes Brahms that began in spare black and white and then blossomed like a flower into warm hues at it went, but the fact that he did play, and in doing so gave us the opportunity to honor both the great achievements of his career, and the long struggle, never given up, to regain what he lost.  He seems to have made peace with his ordeal though, dispensing witty comments about the repertoire and speaking movingly about his long ago friendship with William Kapell.  If there was ever a bittersweet tinge to these memories — it was Fleisher’s emulation of his older friend’s fanatic practice regimen that probably led to his eventual disability — time has erased it so that only love and admiration remain.

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The William Kapell International Piano Competition and Festival; Solo Semi-Finals in Review

Solo Semi-Finals Are Over – Nine Pianists Played

On Thursday, July 12th, the Jury of the William Kapell International Piano Competition and Festival selected nine semi-finalists from a field of twenty four.  These nine pianists were heard in three solo semi-final rounds on Friday, Saturday and Sunday performing recitals of an hour each including both the required American piece — Leon Kirchner’s Interlude II proving to be wildly popular, at least among the competitors — and a portion of one concerto of the performer’s choice, plus standard repertoire solo works.  At the risk of being a bit crass, here is my racing form so far:

Jin Uk Kim, 28 from South Korea but residing in Boston these days is a DMA student at the New England Conservatory.  Mr. Kim played two of the Brahms Klavierstucke, Op. 76 in middle of the road mode, without much heat or light.  He chose Interlude II (the choice of 5 of the other nine players as well), a piece from Kirchner’s last years, as his American work.  It’s an evocative piece which lends itself to a touch of romanticism in tone and Mr. Kim’s satisfying approach was appropriately juicy.  Sparks flew from the Six Paganini Etudes of Franz Liszt but the requisite virtuosity turned his sound toward the hard side.  The Brahms Second Piano Concerto is the 32oz porterhouse of piano concerti, and for me, Mr. Kim left a good deal of meat on his plate.  It was a speedy reading of the first movement, without much breathing room, but the second movement was warmer.

Jin Uk Kim

Jeewon Lee, 30, is also from South Korea and pursuing her DMA at Rice University in Texas.  She began with her American work, Michael Torke’s Laetus and followed it with the Chopin Piano Sonata No. 3.  This, as all the piano playing world knows, is a towering work of great difficulty, both technically and musically.  Ms. Lee handled the technical demands without batting an eyelash, but the music itself was more problematic.  She tends to back away from the climaxes of phrases in a coy, cutesy way —  coquettish rather than ardent, and I think probably not what Chopin was aiming at.  Her Tchaikovsky Concerto No. 1, however, was fullblooded and very well played.

Diyi Tang was the competitor I missed hearing in the Preliminaries due to that unfortunate combination of confusion about the start time and traffic.  He is 32, from China, and working towards a DMA at Rutgers University.  He made something of a fashion statement, entering the stage dressed in a sharp and shiny brown sharkskin suit.  Fortunately, his Gaspard de la nuit shimmered as well.  Ondine irridesced, Le gibet twisted ever so slowly in a non existent wind, the endlessly repeating B-flats sounding like they were played by some other pianist in some other room far away, and Scarbo terrorized, leaping and whirling and generally throwing the furniture around.  Mr. Tang chose George Walker’s Sonata No 2 as his American piece and gave it a thoughtful reading.  Less so Chopin’s Scherzo in C-sharp minor, Op. 39 which was strangely uninvolved given the opportunities it presents.  Mainly it was very, very fast with little give, even in the chorale sections.

Saturday’s Round Two began with Yue Chu, 28, from China and currently studying in Philadelphia, who started his program with Interlude II.  To my ears Mr. Chu exhibited tonal problems throughout his recital.  He produced a duller sound than his predecessors which didn’t flatter him by comparison, particularly in the Liszt Sonata which suffered from a few too many cracked notes as well as insufficient bass, leaving otherwise lush harmonies under-supported.  The Rachmaninoff Third Concerto (first and second movements) was better but still on the cool side.

Masafumi Nakatani

Masafumi Nakatani

Masafumi Nakatani, 28 and from Japan, is in the Doctoral Program at University of Miami.  He also opened his program with the Kirchner — a mesmerizing reading with warm sound and pinging high notes.  Things slid downhill from there, however.  Schumann’s Carnaval was overpedaled and sloppy with missed notes and memory slips.  That’s forgivable in this pressure cooker situation, but in an effort to do something “deep” Mr. Nakatani often twisted the music out of proportion, a propensity that afflicted the Beethoven Emperor Concerto too, and that I am less inclined to brush off.

Fortunately, critics are not expected to exercise neutrality.  I have pointed out what I perceive to be some of the problems of these competitors, but I’d like to say here and now that they are all at a minimum very very good pianists.  Remember that, please, as you read what comes next:

Steven Lin is a whole other order of being.  In this competition, he is a leopard in a room full of house cats.  (Mr. Lin may also prove to be a cure for triskaidecaphobics since he is Competitor No. 13).  There is little to say except to marvel at his level of technical accomplishment, well above most of the professional pianists who inhabit the world’s concert halls these days.  The ease of this young man’s playing (he’s 23, and of Taiwanese descent but born in the US), his poise and his absolute mastery enable him to really let his imagination loose.  He can do pretty much anything he wants to do.  This is not necessarily always a good thing, but even when Mr. Lin does something slightly cringeworthy, he does it with such astonishing skill and freedom that it’s pointless to argue.  He exists in a blissful zone of his own.

Steven Lin

Steven Lin

Yekwon Sunwoo is also 23, from South Korea and enrolled in the Masters program at Juilliard.  He seems to me a strong contender for a place in the Kapell finals.  He’s a technical whiz and a good musician.  My one complaint would be that he uses very soft dynamics too much (this has been something of a trend at this competition).  The Chopin Ballade No. 1 left me feeling cheated at many beautiful moments.  The slow movement of Schubert’s Wanderer Fantasy was much the same — projection above all, please,  even at low volume.   His Rachmaninoff Third Concerto, however, practically lifted the roof off the auditorium (and broke a string in the piano as well).

Yekwon Sunwoo

Yekwon Sunwoo

Misha Namirovsky, 31, from Russia by way of Israel is another newly minted Bostonian, now in the DMA program at New England Conservatory.  I’m about 95% sure Mr. Nemirovsky intended to play the German Steinway he used in the preliminary rounds, however, since the string broken during Mr. Sunwoo’s Rachmaninonff Concerto couldn’t be properly replaced in the 15 minutes allotted between performances, I think Namirovsky must have agreed to use the American Steinway he ended up playing at the last minute.  If that’s the way it happened, it’s a pretty undesirable position to be put in and I suspect it rattled him, subtly at first and then more overtly as the Schumann Symphonic Etudes proceeded.  By the time the Beethoven Fourth Concerto came along he was back in control and he gave a beautiful if slightly oddball performance of it — the second movement played first, followed by the first movement.

Jun Sun, 23 from China and currently a student at Juilliard, gave an appealingly haunting and reflective performance of (once again) the Kirshner Interlude II, and a carefully articulated performance of Brahms’ Handel Variations that was also athletic and fearless at the right moments.  Brahms First Piano Concerto was a little reticent for my taste but it roared occasionally too.

Chamber music is on the program for the next two days followed by the announcement of the finalists.

A Correction:

There are of course inherent problems in publishing same day pieces, and sometimes mistakes are made.  Let me rephrase that:  Sometimes I make mistakes — and I made a lulu the other day when I wrote that Misha Namirovsky had, at the last minute before his performance on Sunday, been forced by circumstances beyond his control to play the American Steinway.  He was, in fact, scheduled to play the American Steinway, has used it from the beginning of the competition and he played it again today in the Chamber Music Round.  My apologies to all concerned.

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The Kapell Competition in Review

The Preliminary Round is Over

The Kapell Competition’s preliminary rounds were spread over three days – the only way to hear 24 pianists play 30 minutes of repertoire each without fatalities on the jury and perhaps the audience as well.  One fact becomes immediately apparent from such an undertaking:  there are a lot of excellent young pianists around.  This should give folks like Norman Lebrecht and other predictors of the demise of classical music something to think about.  These young artists are enthusiastic champions of the art form and in terms of audience, I think people have always come to classical music later in life when they go looking for real meaning as opposed to just entertainment.  In any case, we’ll see.  Personally, I’m not too worried.

William Kapell; Photo Credit: Clarice Smith Center

Among the performers here there are several with genuine star potential, and many more with the ability to inspire others to become interested in concert music.  Some time around 4pm today the jury will announce nine semi-finalists.  It’s 2:45 now so I’m going to go out on a limb and list my choices (in the order in which they played) to advance to the next round.  Once caveat:  due to the notorious Washington Beltway traffic, as well as a certain confusion of mind as to the actual start time of Round Three, I missed Diyi Tang’s performance entirely, and I only heard Maria Sumareva’s via closed circuit TV in the lobby since I arrived after she began — clearly not the best way to make a judgement, so if either or both of them deserved to be mentioned here, I can only apologize and look forward to hearing them in the next round.

Julia Siciliano

The first name on this list is bound to be controversial.  Julia Siciliano is a consummate musician who played very beautifully… except when she didn’t.  Nemesis stalked her through the Chopin Fourth Scherzo.  Its skittering leaping chords, which appear in I don’t know how many transpositions in the course of the piece, are a memorization death trap and Ms. Siciliano fell in.  Twice.  She climbed out, however, with elegance and grace and not the slightest effect on the rest of her performance of the piece or the remainder of her program — an absolutely engrossing and flawlessly played Waldstein Sonata, the equal of any I’ve heard.  I hope the jury will cut her enough slack to continue.

Younggun Kim

Younggun Kim is indeed, as his name implies, a young gun.  He has blazing technical capacity and a lush sound supported by a natural phrasing sense and an appreciation of the differences in approach required to project the music of Haydn – a little dry for my taste, but more about that in a later post about the pianos.  Kim’s Poulenc Novelettes shimmered with beautifully balanced voicings, and Prokofiev’s war horse Seventh Sonata was spiky and rhythmically driven but still played with full, beautiful tone.

Gonzalo Paredes

Gonzalo Paredes

Chilean pianist Gonzalo Paredes began with a sprightly performance of the first movement of Haydn’s big C Major sonata (Hob. XVI:50).  When I say sprightly I really mean fast, perhaps a little too fast, but perfectly controlled and bravely pedaled according to Haydn’s long markings.  Two pieces from Bartók’s Out of Doors Suite followed.  The Night’s Music was appropriately buggy, The Chase quite spectacular.  Liszt’s Variations on a Theme of J. S. Bach had the rapt audience eating out of Paredes’ extremely capable hands.  He has more than a little of his great countryman Claudio Arrau’s depth of sound and he uses it to great effect.

Steven Lin

Steven Lin

Steven Lin  is a phenomenon.  He seems effortlessly to do things which might reasonably be assumed to be impossible.  He is surely one of the most gifted technicians around, and that includes most of the professional pianists performing today.  This is not hyperbole; you have to hear him to believe it.  His Haydn Sonata, the same C Major as Mr. Paredes’, was playful and sparkling, and Mr. Lin milked it for every opportunity to do something remarkable.  He sometimes skated close to the outer bounds of good taste, but he never really crossed it, and, it has it be said again, it really was remarkable.  He followed this with a jaw-dropping account of Liszt’s very ungrateful Don Juan Fantasy — a piece I will readily admit that I detest.  In 40 years I never heard a performance of it that sounded like anything but a confused noise from without, that is until yesterday just before 11am when Mr. Lin set everything right.  Indescribable.  And I can’t wait to hear more.

Yekwon Sunwoo

Yekwon Sunwoo

Yekwon Sunwoo gave us a clear and well proportioned version of Beethoven’s Sonata Op. 27, No. 1, the companion piece to the more famous “Moonlight” Sonata, and one of Beethoven’s loveliest.  One thing puzzles me — and I’ll admit it’s a nit-pick, but the other pianist who played this work did the same thing — and that is the unauthorized (at least by Beethoven) appearance of staccato notes in the left hand in measure 4.  OK, ok, it’s a minor thing, but it spoils the surprise when they do appear in the next measure.  Somebody should kill this before it spreads.  Ravel’s La Valse stretches anyone’s technical abilities to the limit, but it didn’t seem to disturb Mr. Sunwoo in any way.  He gave a whirling, kaleidoscopic account that never lost sight of the basic waltz rhythm.

Jee In Hwang

Jee In Hwang

Jee In Hwang produced a massive Rachmaninoff Corelli Variations, a glittlering Jeux d’eau and a solid Les Adieux Sonata, although the first movement was not improved by a tempo which strained the upper limits of musicianship.  Misha Namirovsky’s Schubert suffered from too much una corda pedal — it seems to be the fashion these days to show how softly you can play and a number of competitors are overusing it — but his Rachmaninoff, Debussy and particularly his Scriabin Fourth Sonata with its devilish Prestissimo volando were awfully good.  Jun Sun played a rather uninterested account of Haydn’s Sonata No. 33 but Godowsky’s fabulous elaboration of the Strauss waltz Wine, Women and Song had a technical command you couldn’t argue with.  The problem with the Godowsky transcriptions is that pianists nowadays take them too seriously.  There was a lot of mooning over the opening riffs and other inconsequentials.  Sometimes it is just noodling.   Guilliaume Masson is another of the una corda addicts, but his takes on Mozart, K. 330 and Liszt’s Après un lecture de Dante were highly original and, well, pretty convincing.  Canope, Debussy’s evocation of an Egyptian burial jar, was magically still and mysterious. And now, time to await the real jury’s decision.

July 12, 2012 — 2:45pm

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Lang Lang, Superstar, Shows Why at Carnegie Hall

by Howard Aibel, President of New York Concert Review

Lang Lang

Lang Lang gave a phenomenal concert at Carnegie Hall, broadcast live on WQXR on May 29th, 2012. He is without a doubt the most famous pianist in the world, continuing to perform to sold out houses in every city he plays. In 2009, he appeared in Time Magazine’s annual list of the 100 Most Influential People in the World. The Year before, more than four billion people saw his performance during the opening ceremonies of the Beijing Olympic Games, inspiring over 40 million Chinese children to learn to play classical music on the piano. He just received an Honorary Doctorate Degree from the Manhattan School of Music in recognition of his extraordinary accomplishments as a musician, educator, and musical ambassador to the world. Lang Lang may very well be the most popular classical musician on the globe, and it isn’t difficult to see why. There was an excitement in the air before the concert began, with a sold out house, including some 120 stage seats. Thankfully, the live broadcast on WQXR is still available by typing in WQXR.org Lang Lang. This was the first time he was performing Bach in Carnegie Hall, and there were video cameras and microphones surrounding the stage; talk about pressure! Yet he played comfortably and intimately, as if in his living room. Oddly, the only noticeable minor slips were in the Gigue of the Bach Partita, where the left hand crosses over the right in a fast tempo. In the slow Sarabande, Lang Lang used rubato to be expressive, but in Baroque music he needs to do this while playing in time, which he did in all the other movements. Still, his playing was much more natural than the Bach of Glenn Gould, who was considered the greatest “Bach Specialist”.

Next on the program was the last sonata of Schubert, written in the year of his death, 1828.   Interestingly, it is in the same key as the Bach Partita (B-flat Major), and it also presents itself with a quiet simplicity. His performance was filled with an abundance of colors, as he has tremendous control over the piano. He defines the epitome of technique: the ability to do anything you want at the instrument. He can play incredibly softly, yet his sound still carries to the last row in the hall. Of course, nobody can please everybody; that was the case with Glenn Gould, Leonard Bernstein, and Daniel Barenboim, but Lang Lang comes close to pleasing most audiences at only 29 years of age. His newfound demeanor has changed his concert attire, his repertoire, and his maturity. That is not to say he doesn’t have to develop more; he still could play with more simplicity and let the music speak for itself. Gary Graffman was Lang Lang’s teacher at the Curtis Institute in Philadelphia from the time he was 14 until 19. Mr. Graffman said that Lang Lang sent a DVD performance of all 24 Chopin Etudes when he was 13 or 14 years old! At this Carnegie performance, the Etude in Thirds was so stupendous that it elicited bravos from the audience, which then broke into consistently boisterous applause, which gave him a moment to wipe his brow. He quickly continued with the difficult “Winter Wind Etude”, which was indeed fabulous. As if to prevent more applause, he dove into the last etude, the “Ocean”.

At the conclusion, the audience went wild, jumping to their feet screaming “Bravo!” The first of the two Liszt encores was a Romance in E Minor, which was lovingly performed, and it was followed by “La Campanella,” which was nothing short of stupendous. He could have gone on and on, but the house lights went up, signaling that it was the end to one of the best recitals I have ever heard.

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