The Hilton Head International Piano Competition presents 2022 First Prize Winner Jaeden Izik-Dzurko in Review
Jaeden Izik-Dzurko, piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
October 14, 2022
I must reveal a terrible secret that I imagine is not unique to this reviewer: I can tell within one or two seconds of playing (on occasion, even as the performer takes the stage!) whether a piano recital will be transcendent, very good, good, or (I always hope not) not so good. Jaeden Izik-Dzurko captivated me, with the first category, in the requisite two seconds, the first “ppp, una corda, very faded, nonchalant, uniform, and melancholy” measure of Albéniz’s El Albaicín, that pianistic impression (Albéniz’s own word) of Granada’s Gypsy quarter, revealed in all its splendor.
In doing so, he also confirmed that Hilton Head’s reputation for finding the best young piano talent is rivaled only by its beauty as a South Carolina “low country” destination.
But let us return to Mr. Izik-Dzurko: What he revealed in those two seconds, and continued to display for the next hour and a half, is one the most refined tonal palettes I have ever heard, combined with a polished close-to-the-keys technique, and a certain basic humility in the service of the music. There was not one moment of showing off, yet the wildly enthusiastic audience probably had no idea of the difficulty of what he was achieving. He even seemed shy in accepting his bows. Absolutely everything was put into the music.
He followed the Albéniz with one of his personal favorites, Scriabin’s Tenth Piano Sonata, Op. 70, in whose single movement sonata form is detectable, even rather strict, amid the welter of “powerful, radiant, luminous” trill outbursts. Mr. Izik-Dzurko guided us through the labyrinth with perfect voicing, gorgeous dynamic range, seemingly limitless colors, and let me just gush a little about those trills… Although I’ve known the piece for some decades now, it finally made sense to me!
Mr. Izik-Dzurko then turned his attention to the Classical period with a seldom played Beethoven gem, the Andante in F Major, WoO 57, known as “Favori,” originally conceived as the slow movement to the “Waldstein” sonata (thank goodness he removed it from that). Here, he showed a delightfully subtle feeling for each harmonic change, a delicious “Viennese upbeat” at the beginning of the B-flat episode (done only once, thank you), and phenomenally light octaves in both hands.
He closed the first half of the recital with two of the fiendishly difficult 12 Etudes in the Minor Keys by his fellow Canadian, Marc-André Hamelin. The first of them, No. 7, is for the left hand alone, based on the Tchaikovsky Lullaby, Op. 16 No. 1, originally for voice and piano. With a fluid, relaxed left hand he rendered every textural complexity with crystal clarity, and emotional poignancy. The second of the two Etudes played, No. 12, is titled Prelude and Fugue, and it contains a jazzy element in the prelude leading to a wild tarantella-like fugue. Apparently Hamelin apologized, in some commentary, for creating such an “agglomeration of technical nightmares,” but they held no terrors for Mr. Izik-Dzurko, or if they did, he disguised them to perfection. I will quote Mr. Hamelin, for the sentences apply perfectly to Mr. Izik-Dzurko: “I think it [virtuosity] is a heightened ability, a sort of super-ability to marshal your resources, either emotional or corporal, in order to bring music to life. I think that something like that is inborn, for the most part, but of course this sort of super-ability needs to be cultivated, sharpened, and maintained.”
After intermission, the entire second half was devoted to Rachmaninoff’s First Piano Sonata in D minor, Op. 28, the one that began life as a sort of programmatic rumination “après une lecture de Faust.” What an opportunity, I’m not sure how the universe decides these things, but my second time in two days hearing this seldom-played work! All of Mr. Izik-Dzurko’s virtues were again channeled into this demanding score. Here he appeared to apply an even hotter emotional temperature and involvement, while never once losing clarity. The fortissimo passages were lava escaping from some subterranean fissure. The trills near the close of the slow movement seemed to point the way to the Scriabin we had heard earlier. Amid all the grandeur, Mr. Izik-Dzurko made the piece seem two things: 1) “better” than it is, and 2) “shorter” than it is! An amazing accomplishment in an evening filled with them.
The ovation was long, loud, and of course, well-deserved. Mr. Izik-Dzurko favored us with two encores. First, the delicate tracery of Scriabin’s Etude Op. 42, No. 4. Then he was called back and blazed his way through the brief but rambunctious Medtner Fairy Tale, Op. 26, No. 2.
Is there something in the water in Canada that develops virtuoso pianists? Mr. Izik-Dzurko was born in the quaintly named Salmon Arm, British Columbia, and is continuing his Master’s degree studies with Corey Hamm in Vancouver, following his Bachelor’s degree from Juilliard. He certainly seems on his way to a major career if he wants one. After his victory in Hilton Head, he went on to snag three more first prizes at major competitions within a six-month period. I’m sure he would be the first to tell us that technique is but a means to an end, but without it, you can’t give free reign to your expression.
Oh, and Jaeden (pardon the familiarity), would you do me a favor? Please return to New York every year with the following: a complete Ravel cycle, a complete Debussy cycle, and anything else you would like to program.
As I was leaving the hall, I became aware of a complete stranger on the sidewalk approaching me. Naturally, as a New Yorker, I was a bit cautious, but he began to spontaneously gush about that piano recital he had just heard, and I realized we had heard the same one. We talked for a few minutes and I asked him if he knew the performer, or was from South Carolina perhaps, or Canada. No, he said, I’m just a fan of piano recitals and I saw this on the calendar. Good job, Jaeden!
