Digital Recording in Review: Trace Back
Chang Li, piano
Contemporary musicians have many tools at their disposal with which to promote their artistry. The Chinese pianist Chang Li, a doctoral student at Michigan State University, and an active solo and collaborative performer, has released a digital album, Trace Back, available on iTunes and various other digital music platforms, as an introduction to his work for listeners who may not otherwise encounter him in a concert setting. Like many other compilations of this variety, it is a collection of short pieces, some familiar to the casual listener, some not, meant to form an initial musical portrait of the pianist.
After having listened to the album, it is now clear to me that its title refers to the genealogical journey from the first composer represented here, Lowell Liebermann, all the way to his historical ancestor, Domenico Scarlatti. This temporal reversal, from Liebermann through Scriabin, Debussy, Schubert, and finally Scarlatti, functions as a brief history of the piano as a lyrical, expressive vessel for the composer, allowing Mr. Li to use his natural gifts for flexible rubato and a singing tone. The one composer conspicuously absent from this collection, Frédéric Chopin, is the unacknowledged link in this chain, the one to whom all of his successors pay homage. Judging from the care and attention given to all of these selections, it would be a pleasure to hear some of Mr. Li’s Chopin on a future recording.
The most revelatory performance comes right at the beginning, with Liebermann’s Nocturne No. 1, Op. 20. I have always been a fan of this composer, especially of his works for piano. In his treatment of this piece, Mr. Li gives ample space to the constantly shifting harmonies in both right and left hands, creating a sense of unease and mystery. These passages are then interrupted by brief, fortissimo outbursts of brutality before returning, each time more quietly, to the nocturne rhythm. This is a sensitive performance of a modern classic of piano literature.
The link between Liebermann and Scriabin is cleverly made more obvious by the pianist’s immediate segue into Scriabin’s Five Preludes, Op. 16. Right away, No.1 continues a similar left hand motif, though now in Scriabin’s voice, still harmonically surprising, but of an earlier era. Again, perhaps to emphasize the connection, Mr. Li employs ample rubato, phrasing with much freedom. The remaining preludes are all gems, in particular, No. 4 and No. 5, which show the unmistakable influence of Chopin in an uncanny way. These preludes fit the pianist like a glove and served to remind me of Scriabin’s essential place in the history of Romantic composition.
Mr. Li’s interpretations of Debussy’s Suite Bergamesque and the four Schubert Impromptus, Op. 90 (D. 899) were equally impressive for sheer tonal beauty and sensitive phrasing. I have heard the Debussy played with more reserve, more brain than heart, but these were valid approaches also. In Clair de Lune however, a little less pedal and more emotional distance from the music might have served it better.
What a brilliant idea to end with Scarlatti, another titan of the keyboard, whose joyful Sonata in C major, K. 159, brought this album to a close. With impeccable fingerwork and crisp execution, Mr. Li proved his versatility as an artist here, as in the entire recording. I look forward to hearing more from him, perhaps even in a real concert hall someday.
