Jiayin Li, Pianist in Review
Jiayin Li, piano
Samuel Torres, Percussion
Mikowsky Recital Hall, Manhattan School of Music, New York, NY
January 25, 2022
Call it making lemonade when life deals out lemons, but the Manhattan School of Music has made the best of the pandemic situation with an array of live-streamed performances that would make a diehard concertgoer want to stay home and listen. https://www.msmnyc.edu/livestreams/
Among performances this week was a recital by excellent young pianist Jiayin Li, a pupil of Solomon Mikowsky, esteemed professor for whom the evening’s venue was named. Ms. Li is a candidate for the Doctor of Musical Arts Degree at MSM, and though this recital was listed as a “non-required” one, her program of Cuban piano music goes hand in hand with a dissertation she is writing on the subject, including an annotated collection of the music performed. Under the guidance of Solomon Mikowsky, Cuban-born and a longtime proponent of his country’s music, Ms. Li clearly chose her dissertation topic well, and this listener could hardly wait to hear the eighteen listed Cuban composers from the nineteenth, twentieth, and twenty-first centuries.
The program enjoyed a festive start with Niña con violín (Girl with a Violin) by Ernán López-Nussa (b. 1958). Supported with excellent percussion by Samuel Torres on bongos, Ms. Li dove headlong into the music’s spirit, with none of what might expect to be opening nerves. The music enjoyed dreamy moments, but with support from Mr. Torres there was an undercurrent of dance rhythms throughout.
Going back to the 1800’s Ms. Li gave appealing renditions of Two Contradanzas by Manuel Saumell (1817–1870), first Los ojos de Pepa (Pepa’s eyes) and then El pañuelo de Pepa (Pepa’s Handkerchief). Direct and unassuming folk-like music with rather reined-in use of syncopation, these are close in style (and vintage) to the music of Louis Moreau Gottschalk (who enjoyed several trips to Cuba). Each has a rather self-effacing ending which Ms. Li tossed off with appropriate understatement. Well done!
Next, moving on to Ignacio Cervantes (1847–1905) came two contrasting Danzas, the soulful Adiós a Cuba (Farewell to Cuba) and to follow it No llores más (Don’t Cry Anymore). Adiós a Cuba was given a sensitive, involved performance, nostalgic and impassioned without being excessive or maudlin. To follow it with the consoling No llores más was a beautiful programming touch, and the playing was captivating.
As a side note, it is hard to write even a review of these pieces without expounding on the details of these interesting composers and how their lives intertwined; it is therefore nearly impossible to see how a doctoral candidate could resist writing program notes for this concert. They would surely have been helpful and enjoyable to many.
A festive spirit resumed with La conga de medianoche (The Midnight Conga) from Six Afrocuban Danzas by Ernesto Lecuona (1895–1963). For those who immediately associate Lecuona with his Malagueña or other popular pieces, La conga de medianoche is rather different in its jazzy evocations of a tropical midnight procession, with spicy dissonances adding a good bit of humor.
In a drastic mood change (great programming leaving not a dull moment), we heard Canción de cuna del niño negro (Lullaby for the Black Child) by Amadeo Roldán (1900–1939). A haunting lullaby with plaintive melody over a hypnotic tritone bass pattern, this lullaby is not one for carefree dreaming (its spirit, though not its harmonic language, bringing to mind the Delius Lullaby for a Modern Baby and other ponderous “modern” berceuses). Ms. Li established its haunting atmosphere from the start and held the audience spellbound.
The tempo and mood lightened up for Con un viejo tres from Sones by Carlo Borbolla (1902–1990). Though one might have expected something more sedate with the word “viejo” (old), a “tres” is a kind of small Cuban guitar – and one can still make a spirited sound on an old instrument! Ms. Li’s interpretation verged on the brisk as did some other pieces – and she could certainly afford more taking of time – but there may have been reasons to move the evening along.
This Sones selection was in any case well played, delivered like a wry story, with surprising twists and turns and the occasional “arched brow” musically. It led perfectly to Danza cubana No. 10, “Machacando” (Cuban Danza No. 10, “Pounding”) by Félix Guerrero (1916–2001). Despite the suggestion of “pounding” Ms. Li played with what was emerging in her performances as a characteristic elegance. Perhaps the translation set up an expectation of something more unleashed, but in any event, it was a joy.
What one expected next (as it was printed in the program) was Berceuse campesina (Peasant Lullaby) by Alejandro García Caturla (1906–1940). It is a piece close to my heart, so fortunately I knew something was amiss with the program order when it did NOT come next. (If the very brief opening remarks from the stage manager had perhaps been to clarify a program change, they were nearly inaudible, and so one was relying on the printed program.) Not to be curmudgeonly, but it is not pleasant to be floundering around to disentangle program order while listening (especially as an assigned reviewer), so the downloadable program ought to have been changed. Suffice it to say that one hopes, particularly in the case of a doctoral candidate, that leaving the audience in a haze of confusion is the opposite of what one wants to do in sharing music.
What actually came next was Zapateo Cubano (Cuban Stomping) by Héctor Angulo (1932–2018). It was alternately jaunty and lilting, all in all, a winning performance – and it was after the Angulo that we heard the beloved Caturla Berceuse, and it was played with soulful involvement, a pleasure.
Somehow one missed the Guajira (Peasant Song) Harold Gramatges (1918-2008) – was it omitted? Just another communication glitch for the lost audience? In any case, the program moved on like quicksilver to what this reviewer knew to be Cabrera Moreno, No. 7 from Ten Bocetos (Sketches) by Leo Brouwer(b. 1939). Ms. Li dove into it with ferocity, seeming to relish its motoric patterns. In a similar vein was Tumbao by Tania León (b. 1943), also displaying a powerful finger technique and rhythmic precision.
Just when one couldn’t imagine Ms. Li continuing without a “breather” she proceeded to the tour de force that is Caleidotropic (Kaleidotropic) by Guido López-Gavilán (b. 1944). Complete with extended techniques, strumming inside the piano, tapping, and dramatic vocal chanting (with some remarkable singing as well), Ms. Li fearlessly “knocked it out of the park” as they say, leaving her audience dumbfounded before intermission.
The second half of the concert, by comparison to the first, was a relative breeze. A piece by Jorge Lopez Marín (b. 1949) entitled Marileny started somewhat strictly in two voices, then opening up into a freer, jazzier quasi-improvisatory exploration. Following Marileny was a piece called ¡Que Confusión De Tonos! (What A Tonal Confusion!) by Andrés Alén (b. 1950) – actually much less confusing than figuring out what piece was what on the program – but with tonal shifts well within the range of what one has come to expect from 20th-century music (and 21st). All in all, it was an interesting romp through tonal surprises and “good clean fun” as they say. Habanera Del Ángel (Angel Habanera) by José María Vitier (b. 1954) was just as its title suggests, a soothing and gentle habanera with an intense middle section.
Nearing the program’s end we heard the third piece from El Libro De Música De La Ciudad Celeste (The Music Book Of The Celestial City) by Juan Piñera (b. 1949). Once again it appears that there was a slight mix-up, as the title of No. 3 was listed as Hacia Una Región De La Luz (Towards A Region Of Light), which seems to be a different movement from what we heard. It seems that what we heard was Como un sol que se derrumba (still No. 3). At any rate, Ms. Li showed in it more of her impressive motoric energy and passion.
Rounding out the program as it began, we enjoyed more percussion collaboration with Samuel Torres on congas joining Ms. Li in, Pan Con “Timba” (Bread With Timba) by Aldo López Gavilán (b. 1979). After a bravura percussion introduction from Mr. Torres – truly virtuosic! – the two musicians took us on one final and fantastic Cuban romp. It was a wonderfully festive finish to the evening, and only the iciest soul would not want to dance to it in celebration.
Ms. Li concluded the concert by graciously thanking her professor in a clearly well-deserved tribute. Bravi tutti!
Rorianne Schrade for New York Concert Review; New York, NY
