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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by Timothy Gilligan  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

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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by Timothy Gilligan  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Chamber Music Society of Kumho Art Hall in Review

KMF Virtuoso Concert Series
Music of Poulenc, Françaix, and Dvořák
Alice Tully Hall, Lincoln Center; New York, NY
June 7, 2012
 
Chamber Music Society of Kumho Art Hall

Chamber Music Society of Kumho Art Hall

 

The Chamber Music Society of Kumho Art Hall (CMS) was founded in 2007 and is presently a group of sixteen distinguished artists whose mission is to broaden the horizons of chamber music in Korea by performing and mentoring talented young players. Each season, the CMS performs with CMS Junior Members, giving these young talents the opportunity to learn and play with esteemed musicians. Tonight’s program had the Junior Members playing Francis Poulenc’s famous Sextet for Wind Quintet and Piano and the rarely played Dixtuor of Jean Françaix. The Senior Members took on Antonín Dvořák’s Piano Quintet in A Major, Op. 81.

Francis Poulenc (1899-1963) demonstrated his gift for wit, whimsy, and magic in his brilliant Sextet. The light-hearted nature of this work belies its fiendish difficulty; every player must be up to the mark or disaster ensues. There were no worries, as these young players were technically accomplished to a high degree. It seemed that the piece was child’s play for them. The notes were all there, passagework was clear, and the ensemble playing was excellent; a few intonation issues crept in, but these were few and far between. What was missing was the feeling of Poulenc as jaunty raconteur. I suspect this element will come with more experience and performance; the foundation is there in abundance, but it still needs developing. Once this is done, I am sure this ensemble will give an unforgettable performance of this mainstay of the repertoire.

Jean Françaix (1912-1997) is an unfamiliar name to many, which is regrettable given his tremendous output and sparkling style of composition.  Being a staunch and unrepentant Neo-Classicist in the time of serialism and atonalism probably has contributed to this. Dixtuor pour quintette à vent et quintette à cordes (Dectet for Wind and String Quintet) was composed in 1987. Scored for two violins, viola, cello, double bass, flute, oboe, clarinet, bassoon, and horn, it is a work full of youthful optimism. While not as technically demanding as the Poulenc, it still requires top-notch players and has the additional challenge of ensemble and balance issues among ten musicians.  Perhaps to highlight the idea of yesteryear, the players performed while standing; in my opinion this neither added nor subtracted anything from the performance. The ensemble captured the essence of this charming work in a way that was lacking in the Poulenc.  There was whimsy without being cloying, the lyrical second movement was beautifully played, and the articulation was rendered with laser-like clarity throughout, especially the triplets in the third movement. The final movement built up such momentum that the double bass player inadvertently hit his stand with his bow, underscoring his enthusiasm. My only reservation was at times the strings were somewhat timid and overshadowed by the winds, but all in all it was an inspired performance of an unjustly neglected work.

After intermission, the senior members took to the stage. Music Director Daejin Kim led a bold performance of Dvořák’s Piano Quintet in A Major, Op. 81. Antonín Dvořák (1841-1904) showed his devotion to his native land in this masterpiece, using Bohemian folk idiom throughout and the CMS gave it a high-voltage performance. They showed their great understanding of Dvořák’s ideas and projected them with vigor. Other than a small slip where one violin was a fraction of a second early in an exposed section, the playing was extremely polished. The last measures of the finale were played with brio, bringing the work to an exciting close. The large audience responded with loud and prolonged applause, calling the performers back to the stage three times.

As much as I would like to name each and every player for their performance, I will simply congratulate CMS as a whole on a highly successful evening. I hope I have the pleasure of hearing them again in the future.

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by Jeffrey Williams  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

New York Concert Artists Associates: Rising Artists Evening II in Review

New York Concert Artists Associates: Rising Artists Evening II
Jayoung Hong, piano; Jiaxin Tian, piano; Mariko Miyazaki, piano; Kazuo Kanemaki, conductor
Good Shepherd-Faith Presbyterian Church
June 2, 2012

What could be a better way to spend an evening than to hear – after Tchaikovsky’s Serenade for Strings (Waltz) – four accomplished pianists playing four favorites of the piano concerto literature? Two concerti by Mozart (K. 466 and K. 503, followed by Schumann’s A Minor Concerto and Mendelssohn’s G Minor Concerto, made for a jam-packed evening. One couldn’t help thinking that such an evening should be required listening for young New York music students. Here are four pieces (K503 perhaps less so) that young players frequently attempt, though the playing requires the mastery of veterans, and the venue offers good vantage points from which to compare and study the different pianists’ approaches. It is also not every day that one hears so many piano concerti in a row played with such considerable polish.

The programming was a dream, starting with pianist Jayoung Hong playing Mozart’s glorious Piano Concerto No. 25 in C Major, K.503. A relatively large work from an extremely fertile period in Mozart’s composing, it requires a grasp of large structure as well as sensitivity to its wealth of surprises – along with complete technical control, of course. Jayoung Hong played it with seeming ease and, except for one minor mishap attributable to ensemble distractions, delivered a fine performance. If one could sum up in a word one of the loveliest qualities in her performance it might be seamlessness. She demonstrated a fluidity that carried her effortlessly from section to section, harmony to harmony, without a note of hesitancy or roughness. On the other hand it was this very quality that left me wanting more delineation. One sometimes wanted more rhythmic differentiation (for example between triplet-eighths and sixteenths, even in the opening main theme) and later, in the flurry of third movement passagework one wanted more demarcation at points of melodic return. There are several schools of thought on this, but all in all, Ms. Hong played with a grace that suits Mozart’s style. She seemed truly to enjoy the music most by the third movement. Occasionally there was some sketchiness in the strings, and the winds were sometimes overpowering (especially where marked pianissimo at the Andante’s close), but conductor Kazuo Kanemaki held things together well.

Going in reverse chronology, Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 20 in D Minor K.466, came next, with Jiaxin Tian as soloist. While I am not a fan of “listening with one’s eyes” it was hard not to notice this pianist’s musical responses transporting her even during the opening tutti, before she played a note. This oneness with the orchestra and the music is a gift and pervaded her playing. Certainly she had all the technical nuts and bolts in order, but what brought her playing to a higher level was her unwavering passion and commitment to the work. Yet again, though, at times an asset can be a drawback, and I occasionally thought the piano should be less “one” with the orchestra and more soloistic. Particularly in the first movement’s opening theme, which could stand being more full-bodied, the melody was a bit wan at the peaks. The consistently receding tops of melodies had me wondering whether perhaps there might have been a pinky injury – but this pianist seemed quite purposeful in her performance. She lacked for nothing in the dramatic crescendo passages, and that “oneness” came in handy in some beautifully Beethovenian sweeps where she meshed perfectly with the orchestra. This concerto is often thought of as one of the most Beethovenian of Mozart’s works, and it is not surprising that Beethoven left cadenzas for it (one which she performed in the first movement). Her nicely ornamented Romanza led to an extremely fast final movement, which brought the audience to its feet.

In a change from the printed program Jin Kyung Park played Schumann’s Piano Concerto in A Minor right after intermission, instead of last, as programmed, but this reviewer is not assigned to review that performance. The program closed with Mariko Miyazaki playing Mendelssohn’s Piano Concerto No. 1 in G Minor. If some imagined this work to be too lightweight to conclude a concerto program (especially after Schumann’s A Minor masterpiece), a surprise was in store. Ms. Miyazaki played this oft-maligned work with fresh intensity and extreme brilliance. Bold and assured, she took the reins, leading the orchestra with ultra-clear downbeats and clean and precise pianism. Curmudgeons have often criticized this work for lacking depth or substance (a viewpoint I don’t happen to share), but Ms. Miyazaki treated it as a great work, and it repaid her. Even naysayers would have to concede that the sheer beauty of the piano writing, when perfectly executed, is a thrill akin to looking at a multitude of glistening chandeliers – call that a guilty pleasure, pianistically speaking. Ms. Miyazaki’s nearly flawless rendition was a pleasure indeed. She stormed and sparkled, and with equal poise and artistry projected the piece’s soulful slow movement. The final movement was a romp that concluded the program on a definite high, and again the audience was brought to its feet.

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

New York Concert Artists and Associates Winners Evening: Evenings of Piano Concerti in Review

 New York Concert Artists and Associates Winners Evening: Evenings of Piano Concerti
Wael Farouk, piano; Alexei Tartakovski, piano; Vince Lee, conductor, NYCA Orchestra
Good Shepherd-Faith Presbyterian Church, New York, N.Y.
May 19, 2012

 

Anyone looking only to the larger musical venues of New York is missing out on some once-in-a-lifetime concerts at the “little church behind Juilliard.”  The Good Shepherd Church, which has held many exciting concerts over the years, is in its fourth year now as home to NYCA’s Evenings of Piano Concerti, which introduces concerto soloists, stars of the future, to adventurous audiences. Their May 19 concert was not to be forgotten.

Most memorable on this occasion was the performance of Rachmaninoff’s Third Concerto by Egyptian pianist Wael Farouk. The term “star of the future” is not quite apt here, as Mr. Farouk is something of a star already, with a career that has included innumerable concerto appearances, including the Egyptian premieres of Rachmaninoff Concerto No. 3, Brahms Piano Concerto No. 2, and Prokofiev Concertos Nos. 1, 2, and 3. Imagining Egyptian audiences hearing the Rachmaninoff 3rd Piano Concerto for the first time is exciting indeed, but those who heard Mr. Farouk play it in New York may feel they heard it for the first time as well.

Contrasting with the many hulking pianists who treat this piece as an Olympic hurdle (yawn), Mr. Farouk simply lived and breathed the music with the poetry of a born artist. Incidentally, this pianist is not of hulking build, and anyone brainwashed by the “size matters” crowd might have expected a less-than-powerful performance; they would have been proven wrong (as they might have, if Josef Hoffman, the great but diminutive dedicatee, had given the piece a chance!). Mr. Farouk’s technique is unquestionably great, despite apparently small hands, though this listener didn’t think of the word “technique” once during the entire performance (rare for this piece). The performance lacked nothing, but the way Mr. Farouk sailed through the piece, as if daydreaming out loud, made masses of notes seem merely incidental. That is how it should be, but only when one hears it does one realize how rare it is. Soulful melodic inflection, growling outbursts, coruscating passagework, and powerful peaks all combined with the unity of a master to bring the piece the unique life it deserves. Mr. Farouk also seemed to inspire the orchestra to glorious new heights, not by brute force, but by force of musical spirit. I am now officially a fan of this extraordinary musician.

Coming down to earth for a few moments, one should mention that some of the tempi were faster than one is accustomed to hearing, particularly in the last movement, where just a bit of “holding the reins” can make for more dramatic surges; it was so exciting, nonetheless, that one hesitates to suggest even the slightest tweaking. Conductor Vince Lee was a skillful and sympathetic collaborator throughout.

Prior to intermission, the audience was treated to Beethoven’s Fourth Piano Concerto played by Alexei Tartakovski, and Chopin’s Piano Concerto No. 2 in F Minor, played by Yoonie Han. This reviewer is assigned to discuss the Beethoven but would be remiss in not mentioning Ms. Han’s excellent performance.

Alexei Tartakovski, Winner of the 2011 Rising Artists Concerto Presentation, has won several other awards as well and has fine credentials for one in his early twenties (his bio stating that he was born in 1989). He has performed in numerous cities in the US, Russia, Canada, Holland, Greece, and England, and is currently completing his Master of Music degree at the Peabody Institute. One competition jury member called him “a monumental talent” and another a “first-rate player.” Not surprisingly for one in the throes of a young competitor’s life, he offered a committed and solid performance of Beethoven’s Op. 58, one of the masterpieces of Beethoven’s Middle Period and a pillar of the piano repertoire in general. Mr. Tartakovski had the formidable challenge of starting the concert with this work’s contemplative opening – positioned on the program where one might find a light overture – but he was up to that challenge. He achieved a sense of spaciousness amid the settling of the audience and orchestra and delivered the music as a thoughtful and serious musician. Unassuming in demeanor, he also appeared to approach the work as chamber music, a goal which was not quite possible on this occasion (as undoubtedly there was limited rehearsal time). Unfazed by various ensemble glitches, Mr. Tartakovski showed intense concentration and resilience – qualities he will need in a busy performing career.

Tempo-wise, things were again a shade faster than I like. The last movement especially verged towards a light early classical romp rather than to a meaningful release from the preceding Andante’s depths. It nevertheless posed little challenge for Mr. Tartakovski, and he handled the movement comfortably and delivered its tricky trills with clarity and alacrity.

The task of a reviewer is presumably to review what one has heard and not what one could imagine given a different instrument or situation, but I can’t resist commenting that I would like to hear Mr. Tartakovski on a piano with a less strident treble for this work. While the instrument’s top register had cut through nicely for the previously heard Rachmaninoff (buffered by the rich underlying and surrounding harmonies), the leaner textures of the Beethoven left harsh upper octaves exposed, so one needs a mellower sounding instrument for it. Undoubtedly there will be future chances to hear this pianist, as he surely has many successes ahead of him.

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

The Profile The Life And The Faith Across The Notes in Review

The Profile The Life And The Faith Across The Notes
A Symphonic Poem written for piano, orchestra, and chorus
Mario Jazzetti, composer
The Chelsea Symphony Orchestra; New York Choral Society
Francesco Libetta, piano; Donata Cucinotta, soprano; Matt Morgan, tenor
Avery Fisher Hall, Lincoln Center; New York, NY
May 12, 2012

In a pre-concert address, Maurico Jazzetti shared remembrances of his father, Mario Jazzetti. It was obvious that he had great esteem and love for his father, and this concert was his way of sharing that with the world. Mario Jazzetti’s The Profile The Life And The Faith Across The Notes was presented. Having remarked on his dream that “this work must be played at Lincoln Center,” the younger Jazzetti must have felt great joy at making this dream a reality.

Mario Jazzetti (1915-1986) began his piano studies at age five and gave his first concert at age nine. He earned his diploma in piano in Naples and had a successful performing career in Italy in the pre- and post- World War II years.  He immigrated to the United States in 1951, where he continued his career as a teacher and performer, including concerts at Town Hall and Carnegie Hall. The Profile The Life And The Faith Across The Notes was first performed in a two-piano version in 1983.  A planned orchestral version was cancelled due to Mr. Jazetti’s ill health in 1984.

Billed in the program as a symphonic poem, in the program notes as a symphony concerto, and on the Internet as a piano concerto, it is apparent that the presenter is undecided on a final designation. Despite its titles’ far-reaching ambitions, this work seems ultimately to be none of the above. One might call it a suite, but it is really a pastiche of six works, composed at different times in Mr. Jazzetti’s life and placed together. Split into two sections (four movements, followed after intermission by the last two), the six movements are meant to represent the life journey, from birth to the end of life. They are titled Ninna Nanna (Lullaby), La bicicletta (The Bicycle), Tristezza d’amore (The Sadness of Love), Gioia di una Promozione (Joy of Graduation)– La Farfalla (The Butterfly), Tragica Realta’ Della Vita (The Tragic Reality of Life, also called the War Concerto), and Ave Maria.

With one movement written in his teens (Ave Maria), another conceived during World War Two (The Tragic Reality of Life), and the rest at other times not detailed in the program notes, the work has an uneven quality as one might expect. The influences of Grieg (especially the Piano Concerto), Tchaikovsky, Chopin, Liszt, and other romantic composers were prominent throughout in an overtly derivative manner, yet without these composers’ individual formal clarity, the effect was that of a collage. Thus, despite the organization into phases of life, there was an amorphous quality to the set. Conventional cadenza-like passagework was frequently used as thematic material, so that melodic lines become almost undistinguishable as such, while harmonic progressions bordered on the formulaic. There were, to be sure, poignant moments, but the surrounding material overwhelmed them.

Pianist Francesco Libetta was the star of the evening. Playing with great abandon, he broke a string on the Fazioli piano during The Tragic Reality of Life movement, much to the amazement of the audience. Soprano Donata Cucinotta and tenor Matt Morgan gave strong performances as well. The New York Choral Society was solid in their role – though what precisely that role was meant to be might have been clearer had there been a printed text, either in the original Italian or in translation (which was missing for the solo singers as well), a considerable omission in this case. Last, but not least, the Chelsea Symphony Orchestra was excellent from start to finish in a performance that completely outclassed another orchestra’s earlier performance of the work, as recorded in Italy (since removed from YouTube). The audience gave the performers a prolonged standing ovation at concert’s end.

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by Jeffrey Williams  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony in Review

The Park Avenue Chamber Symphony in Review
“Majestic Finale”
David Bernard, Music Director
All Saints Church, New York, NY
May 6, 2012
 
David Bernard and the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony

David Bernard and the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony

 

A large and very enthusiastic audience was on hand for this, the final concert of the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony’s 2011/12 season. They were treated to an exemplary performance of Beethoven’s Symphony No.4 in B flat major, Opus 60, and were thrilled by the visceral climaxes of Mahler’s Symphony No 1 in D major (“Titan”.) One might ask what a Mahler symphony is doing on a program by a performing organization which has “chamber symphony” in its name. My answer is that one of the glories of Mahler’s use of the orchestra is that no matter how large a performing group he writes for, the scoring is often that of a chamber orchestra, with long quiet passages for solo instruments interspersed between passages for very, very full orchestra. In addition, this Beethoven/Mahler combination was an inspired pairing; as both works have similarly mysterious pianissimo openings.

Conducting without a score, Maestro Bernard led his players in an assured, beautifully shaped and well-paced performance of the Beethoven. The tempi he chose allowed the music to unfold naturally. We heard none of the very, very fast or very, very slow tempi which so many conductors now choose perhaps to show us an “original” interpretation of a well-known work. Readers of the New York Concert Review might remember that I am very insistent that performers obey the composer’s instructions and observe all of the indicated repeats.  I am happy to report that this afternoon all of Beethoven’s repeats were performed. And so were those in the Mahler!

The very live acoustics of All Saints Church caused a problem which persisted throughout the concert; the solo winds, when playing passages marked piano, all sounded too loud. I’m sure that the players were following Beethoven’s dynamic marking, but the contrast between loud and soft didn’t come across. As this was not the case with the strings, the tutti crescendi, so crucial in a work by Beethoven, were handled beautifully.

After intermission came the Mahler. Again conducting without a score, Maestro Bernard led the huge orchestra with discrete, clear and concise gestures. The orchestral playing was of the same high quality we heard on the program’s first half. The strings were especially impressive – the wild opening of the last movement was played with confident abandon. The horns, all seven of them, had a very high batting average. It was a very impressive performance. But for this listener, during the lyrical passages there was something missing, and it is hard to put it into words without sounding too negative, something I do not wish to do as it would seem to contradict the statement which precedes this sentence. So with that disclaimer, I’ll try. I found the lyrical section somewhat stiff and careful, with little of the warmth and disciplined freedom I look for in a Mahler symphony. A bit more use of portamento in the strings would have also been welcome. But when the orchestra was going at full tilt, all was well. And when it was over, the audience rose to their feet and thanked the performers with heartfelt applause and cheers.

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by Harry Saltzman  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Georgy Tchaidze, Pianist in Review

Georgy Tchaidze, piano,
Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall
April 27, 2012
 

Canada’s Honens International Piano Competition, held every three years, offers the largest prize of any piano competition ($100,000 CAN and a half-million-dollar three-year career development award) to “the Complete Artist” – characterized as “a sensitive musician, a consummate collaborator, an awe-inspiring virtuoso, a communicator, a dreamer, an explorer.” The 2012 Competition has yet to select a winner, but meanwhile New York listeners had a chance to witness the Honens ideal at work through Russian pianist Georgy Tchaidze, presented in New York as the 2009 Prize Laureate. Still in his young twenties, he looks onstage to be almost too young to have had already three years of high-voltage career grooming; on the other hand, when he plays, he demonstrates such mature and highly honed artistry that it is hard to imagine that he is not a concert veteran of several decades.

His individuality was evident immediately in his program, which, aside from Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition to close, was not typical Russian virtuoso fare. Four Fairy Tales of Medtner (“Skazki”), Op. 34, opened the program. Medtner is still underperformed in concerts, despite growing numbers of recordings, so these were welcome choices. The Fairy Tales are deceptively demanding, but Mr. Tchaidze proved he possesses the refined technique and abundant imagination to bring these pieces new and resplendent life. His phrasing had a wonderful elasticity always, from where it sang out in exposed opening octaves in No. 1 (“The Magic Violin”) to where it dovetailed in No. 2 with intricate left hand accompaniments. In addition, especially in No. 3, “Wood Spirit (but a kind and plaintive one),” there was an expressive physicality in Mr. Tchaidze’s approach which conveyed involvement every second, inspiring the listener to feel and breathe with him. This is not to say that he is in the category of highly demonstrative performers including, say, Lang Lang, but that he becomes physically one with each work’s spirit. “The Poor Knight” (No. 4) showed the pianist as storyteller and was as superb as the rest of the set.

Underplayed repertoire can be the last refuge for mediocre performers billed as pioneers, so excellent interpreters such as Mr. Tchaidze are much needed.  Prokofiev’s Sonata No. 4, Op. 29, is another of the relatively ignored works of a great master. Understandably, other Prokofiev Sonatas have had broader appeal for pianists, but No. 4, with its alternation of the cryptic and the despondent, has remained a tougher “nut to crack.” Mr. Tchaidze gave a masterful, highly nuanced performance of this work, dedicated to Prokofiev’s deceased friend Maximilian Schmidthof, who had committed suicide a few years earlier. In the sublime moments of its second movement especially, the pianist showed a deep and genuine feeling for the composition. On such moments can rest an entire work sometimes, and Mr. Tchaidze’s interpretation should support much more widespread appreciation of the piece.

The concert also included vocal music with Mr. Tchaidze as collaborator – whether from the pianist’s personal artistic preference or in support of the Honens Competition’s professed ideal of the “Complete Artist” (evidenced by the competition’s art song and chamber music requirements). Six Romances, Op. 38, of Rachmaninoff were given dramatic, projective performances by world-class singer Dina Kuznetsova, with Mr. Tchaidze providing an excellent pianistic backdrop for the lyricism of these gems. The offering was a refreshing change of pace in the middle of a piano recital, a throwback, in a way, to salon days, in which there was “something for everyone.” Perhaps the “21st century artist for 21st century audiences” that the Honens competition seeks has more in common than expected with the artists of yesterday, and perhaps what audiences really want is simply something great. While there was no evidence of a “claque” at the recital, there were coos and quiet little gasps of admiration throughout. Tchaidze may very well become a musician’s musician.

Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition concluded the evening with a standard of the Russian virtuoso repertoire – though played with plenty of surprises.  There were, in fact, transitional moments in this set that had me feeling that I had never heard them before. Whether or not one agreed with each decision (e.g. an unsettlingly fast initial Promenade and an unusually slow Gnomus), there was not in Mr. Tchaidze’s playing a fallow, unexplored moment. Where a lesser artist might have relaxed a bit on the merits of this composition itself or on such a glistening technique as this pianist has, Mr. Tchaidze was rigorously thoughtful and intelligent in all his responses. He brought the evening to an exciting close with “The Great Gate at Kiev” and followed with sensitive renderings of Liadov’s “Musical Snuffbox” and Scriabin’s Feuillet d’Album Op. 45. I’ll look forward to his next performance!

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Haobing Zhu, Pianist in Review

 Michigan State Collegiate Honors Recital, Featuring Five Winners
In Review: Haobing Zhu, pianist
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall
April 14, 2012

As winners of the Michigan State University Collegiate Honors Recital Competition held in East Lansing, Michigan in February, five soloists were presented in a New York group recital under the sponsorship of Manhattan Concert Productions. The winners included Charles Morris, bass trombone; Bryan Guarnuccio, flute; Jennifer Cook, soprano; Dmitry Yanov-Yanovskiy, cello, and the subject of this review, pianist Haobing Zhu. They were selected by a jury of three, including Ralph Votapek, professor emeritus of piano at MSU (perhaps more commonly noted as the first Van Cliburn Competition Gold Medalist); Stephen Shipps, violinist, and Craig Arnold (the director of Manhattan Concert Productions). A varied repertoire, including Puccini, Dvorak, Gillingham, Berg, Liebermann, and Piazzolla, was heard before the pianist ever set foot onstage to close the recital with Haydn and Liszt, so one could only empathize with her for the challenge ahead.

On the subject of such group recitals, I am reminded of the insightful comments of my colleague Alexandra Eames, writing for New York Concert Review a few months ago: “This is an awkward and nerve-wracking experience; one waits in the wings unsure of when he will have to step onstage and face the specter of inevitable comparison. To relax and find one’s stride in just one or two pieces is extremely difficult and the performer must go through the same physical preparations (dressing for performance, arriving on time, trying the instrument, etc.) as he would for a full-length recital.  Often the most sensitive artists can be sabotaged by the endeavor, whereas the more arrogant temperaments barrel through their nerves.” For Haobing Zhu, the comparison aspect was minimized by the fact that she was the only solo pianist (though creditable pianist collaborators included Hyekyung Lee, Hsin-Chan Yang, Tzu-Yi Chang, and Natalia A. Tokar); nothing, however, diminished the challenge of taking the audience back in time to the sonic and stylistic world of Haydn after Piazzolla and Berg, and then rallying her energies to close the concert with a blast of Liszt virtuosity. Ms. Zhu was up to the task.

With seeming nerves of steel, matched by a lovely stage presence, she approached Haydn’s Sonata in E Major (Hob. XVI: 31) with a beautifully clear sound and precise articulations. There was not a trace of rushing, and all was elegantly controlled. This is a work that, compared with other Haydn Sonatas, has seemed to attract pianists of a virtuosic bent, as it especially invites a crisp and detached Horowitzian touch, has a brilliant last movement, and is over in a flash. In a way it was a wise choice for not taxing excessively the already satiated audience. Ms. Zhu maximized its brilliance and combined her technical polish with singing phrases, which showed a tasteful degree of liberty. Her second movement (incidentally a movement that never sounds Allegretto, tending more towards Adagio) was generously stretched with expressive phrasing. The final Presto was flawless and sparkling.

Liszt’s transcription of the Waltz from Gounod’s Faust (s.407) followed. Perhaps I need a disclaimer here that, having performed this very piece on the same piano and stage just six months ago, I must set aside some preconceptions and preferences. A good performance usually can overcome those – and Ms. Zhu’s largely did.  She launched into it zealously and with extreme speed, bringing out the diabolical element even in the opening “villagers’ dance,” which one often hears in a slightly slower pesante tempo than the one she took. She had just the right fearless approach for such a showpiece, and the excitement never lagged. At times I was surprised by the extremely generous pedal, which—combined with the flurry of octaves and the piano’s resonant bass—overwhelmed some details; assuming, though, that the depicted village merriment involves a bit of debauchery and drink, some drowning in pedal could arguably be considered to be in keeping with the spirit. A bit of messiness is par for the course in this work as well, but Ms. Zhu kept things well in hand. It really was astonishing considering the abovementioned challenges of this recital format.

If one were to make any suggestions, they would be that the lyrical central sections be more operatic, with long-breathed singing lines, and that the dance parts be a bit more danceable and a bit less rushed. To put things another way, one could want more singer and dancer, but there was plenty of pianist. Ms. Zhu is a pianist through and through, and she should have a bright future.

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by Rorianne Schrade  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Maxim Anikushin, Pianist in Review

Maxim Anikushin, Pianist in Review
Carnegie Hall (Stern Auditorium); New York, NY
April 5, 2012

In October 2011, The Russian-American Cultural Heritage Center designated April as Russian-American History Month, and to launch the first RAHM in New York State, the RACH-C presented the superb pianist Maxim Anikushin in his first Carnegie Hall recital in the big Stern Auditorium (he had made his noteworthy debut in the smaller Weill Recital Hall on March 9, 1999–only three days after his 23rd birthday). In this writer’s glowing review [in Volume 6, No. 2 of this journal], I prophesized the burgeoning artist as “undoubtedly destined to enter the annals of his generation’s important young pianists.” Thirteen years and numerous concerts later, Anikushin has triumphantly confirmed my expectations. His April 5th recital was a heartwarming affair, and I am proud to remain an unstinting admirer.

Mr. Anikushin’s generous, well balanced program fittingly reiterated several aspects I remember from his past interpretative work: at his aforementioned debut in 1999, a superior performance of the Op. 109 Sonata served notice that he was an idiomatic Beethovenian (by no means a “given” with the best Russian pianist—even Gilels and Richter, et al). As confirmation, the entire first half of the Carnegie Hall program was dedicated to superlative versions of the composer’s Polonaise, Op. 89, “Andante favori”, Wo0 57 and “Waldstein” Sonata, Op. 53. The Polonaise had a dancing and uncluttered rhythmic spin, and the Andante (said to have been originally intended as the “Waldstein”’s second movement) had simplicity and honest flow. As for the “Waldstein”, which I have heard Anikushin play very well in the past year, his interpretation has matured and intensified: this time, he has brought certain details to the fore (e.g. the trimmings and inner voices in the slow movement; and whereas in his earlier account, he chose the pianistically expedient “solution” of playing the octave glissando as two-handed scales, he now opted for the specified Urtext, and also the loud/soft dynamic in the original manuscript). One more observation: the transition into the Rondo was magically poetic and exquisitely timed.

In 2010, Mr. Anikushin paid homage to the American composer Samuel Barber on the centenary of his birth with a handsome retrospective of his solo piano and chamber music. That recital at the New York Public Library served notice that he has real love and inspired affinity for Barber’s music (he is now recording a disc of his music for Albany Records, a mouthwatering prospect). Mr. Anikushin repeated his mercurial, sensitivity-nuanced and dramatically persuasive version of the Piano Sonata, Op. 26, along with delectably played encores of his Lullaby and the Waltz from his “Souvenirs”. (Among the encores was the “Dance Russe” from Stravinsky’s “Petrouchka”).

Anikushin’s musical persona is, to his greatest credit, brilliantly virtuosic, but also elegant, tasteful and essentially classically reserved: I can give no higher compliment than to write that he is very much in the tradition of such fine paragons as the fondly remembered Benno Moiseiwitsch. His wonderfully warm and intimately crafted interpretations of Tchaikovsky’s “Dumka”, Op. 59 and two vignettes, “January” and “May” from “The Months”, Op. 37 verged on perfection.

There was also a belated premiere of a 1991 composition, “Mirage” by Yekaterina Merkulyeva (b. 1956), which the musician–born in Leningrad (now again St. Petersburg)– penned in 1991, immediately after her immigration to America. “Mirage” is, in the composer’s note, “a Romantic Fantasy…[describing] different emotions, both trepidations and excitement, depression and alienations battling at once with both hope and nostalgia , the unreality, at least to someone who grew up in the Soviet Union, of this incredibly energetic , frenetic, unpredictable, dreamy, yet perhaps sometimes dangerous city we live in.” Ms. Merkulyeva’s description further acknowledges influences of Mussorgsky and Prokofieff (I heard ‘sound bites’ of the “Suggestion Diaboliques” and “Old Grandmother’s Tales”). The approximately 6-minute long piece fitted well into the masterfully put together program.

The concert, in summation, was absolutely worthy of what major artists can deliver. What did sadden me was that the house was so scantly filled (all the boxes, dress circle and balcony were empty). Alas, Mr. Anikushin’s public acclaim has not been kept abreast of his richly deserved talent!

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by Harris Goldsmith  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY