Chinese Hua Xia Chamber Ensemble in Review

Chinese Hua Xia Chamber Ensemble
“Dialogue Between the Traditional and the Modern”
Alice Tully Hall, Lincoln Center; New York, NY
May 7, 2012

In a program entitled “Dialogue Between the Traditional and the Modern”, the Chinese Hua Xia Chamber Ensemble presented a program of Ancient and Modern Chinese music, pairing traditional Chinese instruments with “Western” instruments in commissioned works. Featuring six (!) World Premieres, it was a concert that bridged the musical heritages of the East and the West.

The Chinese Hua Xia Chamber Ensemble was founded in 1995. The members are mostly award-winning, young conservatory teachers who are considered the “best of the best” in China.  The ensemble requires members not only to master traditional folk music, but to explore and seek innovations in modern styles as well.  Conducted by Tsung Yeh, they have recorded several albums and have performed throughout the world.

Wanting a closer look at the various Chinese instruments, such as the zheng, the ruan, and the yangqin, among others, and to observe the players “up close” made me abandon my usual strategy of sitting in the back rows.  It was fascinating to see these wonderful instruments being played with such mastery.

Six members of the ensemble opened the concert with traditional Chaozhou music entitled “Lang Tao Sha”. In this arrangement, the erxian, zheng, pipa, flute, yangqin, and the ruan were used.  The playing and balance among the six players was outstanding; the six instruments sounded as one. Following this piece was the first premiere of the evening, “Feng Qiu Huang” (a male phoenix sparks a female phoenix). Written by Liu Qing for cello, Chinese percussion, and the guqin (a small, seven-string zither-like instrument, played by plucking the strings), it uses an ancient Hainan love song that depicts the story of a male phoenix (“Feng”) courting a female phoenix (“Huang”). Beginning with quiet low tones in the cello, followed by responses from the guqin, it built in intensity until it reached a climax, then released the tension and came to a quiet conclusion. There were moments where it was difficult to hear the guqin, but this did not spoil the net effect.  The second premiere, “Five Impressions” by composer Gao Ping, was given in partial form (stated in the program as “Part of Movements”). The conductor Tsung Yeh showed admirable concentration and restraint even before the first note by patiently waiting for the incessant picture taking to cease. Once these distractions passed, an inspired performance took place. With haunting flute lines paired with the cello, then pipa with marimba, then all players joining together, each “Impression” had reminders of one previously played. Culminating in rapid passagework that had me thinking of Prokofiev, this imaginative piece was brought to a crackling close. After this excitement, it was a good choice to pull back to an ancient work called “Wild Geese in the Sandbank”. Played on the xiao, a vertical end-blown flute that is roughly the size of the western Alto flute, this work has a pastoral quality, both in the beautiful lento and the joyful allegro sections. Zheng Weiliang gave an enchanting performance and was rewarded with thunderous applause from the audience; he returned to the stage for a well-deserved second bow. Ending the first half was the third premiere, “Graceful”, from composer Wang Danhong. Described as the emotional journey to Dunhuang Caves, and the graceful dancing of flying fairies, the work mesmerized this listener from start to finish. The erhu melody had Ravel-like moments, the flute playing was increasingly virtuosic, and the work continued to gather momentum to a fever pitch. Finally, there was an unforeseen twist – what seemed to be a final explosion of energy was a false ending. Indeed, conductor Tsung Yeh turned to the audience with a quick wave and smile that said “Don’t clap just yet! We’re not done!” Winding it down to a conclusion, he finished with clasped hands and a bowed head, and then turned to the audience. I found this amazing work to be the highlight of the concert, and I would like to hear it again and again!

After intermission, the first work by a Western composer and the fourth premiere, “Nodes”, by John Mallia was presented. In his notes, Mr. Mallia states, ”‘Nodes’ is composed from several discrete strains of material that are alternately exposed and hidden as thresholds positioned throughout the formal structure are crossed.” Combining violin, cello, bass clarinet, and percussion with the zheng, pipa, flute, and erhu, this interesting piece was played skillfully and showed expert blending of Western and Chinese instruments. As Mr. Yeh said in his charming remarks, “open your mind and let the music fill you”. After the piece was finished, zheng player Qui Ji discreetly pulled out a tuning wrench to re-tune the zheng, which she did very quickly, no doubt to bring it back to traditional Chinese tempering. The last traditional Chinese work, from Peking Opera, was “Dark Night”.  Mr. Yeh told the audience the story behind the piece, which I suspect a majority already knew, to judge by the roar of approval. The story is of a great warrior King’s wife saying good-bye to him on the eve of a great battle from which they both know he will not return. It was played with deep reverence, capturing the martial qualities with vigor. The audience was clearly delighted and expressed their approval with the loudest and longest ovation of the evening; this piece was clearly the audience favorite. Chai Shuai, playing Beijing erhu (a smaller version of the standard erhu), was called back on-stage by the audience for his incredible performance. The fifth premiere, “Less, but More” was next on the program, composed by recent Cincinnati Conservatory graduate Xie Wenhui. Ms. Xie writes in her notes that “the inspiration of this piece is taken from the concept of Wang Wei’s works, who is a well-known Chinese poet in Tang Dynasty (8th century). He affirms the world’s beauty, while questioning its ultimate reality in his works. In this piece, I want to draw a comparison between the deceptive simplicity and the Zen path to enlightenment, which is built on careful preparation but is achieved without conscious effort”. The program omitted the mention of the clarinet, pipa, and zheng. The work was given a thoughtful performance by the talented players, making what was quite complex seem simple. The final work (and premiere) was the ingenious “Bridges”. Composer Victoria Bond has written a work with a double meaning; inspired by bridges in both the United States and China, and the concept of ‘”bridging” Western and Eastern influences. It included a train-like rhythm (“Railroad Trestle Bridge in Galax, Virginia”), a traditional Chinese song “Moli Hua” (Jasmine Flower), shades of Joan Baez, and finally, George Gershwin (in the “Brooklyn Bridge”). I suspect this work is as fun to play as it was to hear, and the ensemble really took to the spirit in all the various tributes. East joined West in a jubilant finale and brought the evening to a close with a bang.

Some final thoughts on this most enjoyable evening- The Chinese Hua Xua Ensemble is a first-rate group and their conductor Tsung Yeh is a charismatic leader. It is truly a privilege to see and hear musicians who are all about the music, who play with such passion and such skill, and are keeping the thousands-year old traditions alive. Bravo!

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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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Kyunghun Kim, Conductor in Review

Kyunghun Kim, conductor
The Doctors Orchestral Society of New York
Michael Katz, Cello soloist
Norman Thomas High School Auditorium; New York, NY
May 3, 2012

Kyunghun Kim is a musician with impressive credentials. Recently graduated from the Juilliard School with a Masters degree in conducting under the tutelage of James DePriest (with a full scholarship from the Bruno Walter Memorial Foundation), he also has a diploma in Conducting from the Curtis Institute of Music.  He has also had studies with other renowned conductors, such as Alan Gilbert, Marin Alsop, and Michael Tilson Thomas.  Mr. Kim is the resident conductor of the Chelsea Symphony, the New York Humanitarian Orchestra, and the orchestra he led tonight, The Doctors Orchestral Society of New York.

The Doctors Orchestra was founded in 1938 by physicians interested in performing symphonic music. Now in its 74th season, the ensemble is no longer comprised solely of physicians, but open to musicians of all professions.  As orchestra manager and cellist Charles Ippolito stated in a pre-concert address, the members of the orchestra are all volunteers who do it for the love of music.

This writer is always enthusiastic about attending concerts with non-professional players. At times the playing has been excellent and as memorable as any “professional” group, and other times, to be perfectly frank, downright appalling; no matter the end result, however, the players invest themselves with all their abilities and passion- there is never a “phone it in” attitude that I have experienced with even some of the most famous orchestras in the world.

Leading a non-professional orchestra is a big challenge. The careful selection of repertoire, limited rehearsal time, often changing personnel, wide diversity in playing abilities, and the need to be a patient teacher are all issues that must be considered. Mr. Kim appears to be the man for the job.

The Cello Concerto in B Minor, op. 104 of Antonín Dvořák, with soloist Michael Katz, opened the concert.  Mr. Kim is a hard-working conductor who strove to bring out the best from the orchestra, but the opening measures were played timidly, instead of with quiet intensity, and were marred by intonation problems. Once these issues settled a bit, the playing steadied, with Mr. Kim giving strong direction with broad gestures and a baton technique that clearly defined the beat.  Mr. Katz gave a polished performance; his tone was singing in the lyrical second movement and the bravura sections of the first and third movements were played with brio. Mr. Kim was a worthy collaborator, keeping the needs of the soloist in mind while keeping the orchestra on track.  Although there were a few instances of the orchestra overpowering the soloist and some excessive exuberance in the trumpet section in tuttis (played very well, I must admit, even if much too loudly!), the end result was a commendable performance.

After intermission, Mr. Kim offered his interpretation of Johannes Brahms’s Symphony No. 2 in D major, Op. 73. Completed in the space of a few months in 1877, this work is Brahms’s most optimistic and idyllic of his four symphonies.  Mr. Kim led with confidence, showing he had carefully thought out his approach and knew exactly where he was going and how to get there. The orchestra took his lead and for the most part, responded with a like confidence. The intonation problems were still an issue, and there were struggles with exposed sections, but there was some excellent playing as well; the French horn section, the lower brasses, and those loud trumpets were uniformly good.  Orchestra and conductor were at their best in the ebullient finale which ended the concert in a joyful mood. I must digress here for a moment to comment on a puzzling statement in the program notes about the finale-“Brahms’ influence from Mozart, Haydn, and Mahler can see seen in the structure and tonal progression…”. Mozart and Haydn, yes, but Mahler? Mahler was 17 years old in 1877, had only begun composing, and did not even meet Brahms until the 1890s!

Mr. Kim is a talented conductor, whose poise and clear communicative style makes him a good fit for this orchestra. Anyone can look good in front of a world-class orchestra, but it takes a special personality to work and succeed with non-professional ensembles.  I wish him good luck and continued success.

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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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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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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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Gordon Getty’s “The White Election”: A Song Cycle on Poems by Emily Dickinson

Gordon Getty’s “The White Election”: A Song Cycle on Poems by Emily Dickinson
Presented by PentaTone Classics  
Lisa Delan, soprano, Kristin Pankonin, pianist
Cynthia Nixon, actress and special guest
The Stanley H. Kaplan Penthouse, Lincoln Center; New York, NY
April 19, 2012

The poems of Emily Dickinson have proven to be fertile ground for musical settings by many composers.  Vincent Persichetti, George Perle, and Aaron Copland in his brilliant “12 Poems of Emily Dickinson” (which is probably the most well-known), among others, have all composed works using her verses.  Gordon Getty (b. 1933) has thrown his hat in the ring with his song cycle “The White Election” (written in 1981), using 32 of Dickinson’s poems in four sections of eight each.

Mr. Getty carefully chose the poems and arranged them in nearly chronological order, taking the listener on a journey through the life of Dickinson. One could make the case that Dickinson’s poems are more autobiographical than those of other noted poets. In his excellent and extensive program notes, Mr. Getty quotes Dickinson: “Mine, by the right of the White Election!…Mine, by the Grave’s Repeal! Title Confirmed! Delirious Charter! Mine, as long as ages steal!”, signifying Dickinson’s renunciation of the world, but also her idea of the perfect marriage at death.

Mr. Getty has stated his composer’s credo as follows: “My style is undoubtedly tonal, though with hints of atonality, such as any composer would likely use to suggest a degree of disorientation. But I’m strictly tonal in my approach. I represent a viewpoint that stands somewhat apart from the 20th century, which was in large measure a repudiation of the 19th, and a sock in the nose to sentimentality. Whatever it was the great Victorian composers and poets were trying to achieve, that’s what I am trying to achieve.” How true to this ideal is Mr. Getty in “The White Election”?  For the most part, he is. The work has the flavor of the 19th century salon. The writing is strictly tonal, with the occasional dissonance. Mr. Getty has a definite talent for setting text to music in a fluent, natural way, but his skeletal writing for the piano accompaniment lent a monochromatic element to many of the songs. One might call this an astute choice by the composer, in keeping with the style of Dickinson (which a Dickinson-loving colleague calls “close to the bone”). Also, there was a heavy reliance on recitative, which could give the listener the impression that there is not enough melodic material for the great number of poems chosen. One would have to admit, though, that some of the songs were quite striking and effective and could be done independently of the entire cycle.  “I Taste a Liquor Never Brewed” had a saucy, playful quality; “My First Well Day, Since Many Ill” had the soprano and pianist in perfect union; and “I Like to See it Lap the Miles” had delicate beauty in the piano writing (which proves that Mr. Getty has the ability to write effectively for the piano). Finally, “There Came a Wind like a Bugle” can hold its own with Copland’s setting of the same poem. To this listener, it was the highlight of the entire cycle. “The White Election” is at once sublime, primitive, clever, repetitive, innocent, morose, and compelling—just like Emily Dickinson herself.

Soprano Lisa Delan gave a moving performance. It is obvious that she loves these songs and sings them with the conviction of a true believer. Indeed, she has performed “The White Election” extensively and has recorded the cycle on the PentaTone Classics Label (PTC 5186 054). Her diction is superb (for once, I did not have my head buried in the text to understand the words!), and her voice captured the essence of these songs. She was a joy to hear and watch. Pianist Kristin Pankonin was an able accompanist, playing with sensitivity, even though this work leaves little for the pianist to do. To prelude each section, stage and screen actress Cynthia Nixon lent her talents to the evening with engaging readings of Emily Dickinson’s letters (passages were selected and arranged by Judith Farr, Professor Emerita of English and American Literature at Georgetown University). At the conclusion, Mr. Getty joined the performers on stage for bows in front of an appreciative audience.

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Henry Wong Doe, Pianist in Review

Henry Wong Doe, piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall
March 26, 2012
Henry Wong Doe. Photo credit: Tom Stoelker

Henry Wong Doe. Photo credit: Tom Stoelker

Henry Wong Doe, pianist, entitled his March 26th Weill Hall Recital “A Picture of New Zealand” and dedicated the first half of his program to the music of his countryman Gareth Farr, and the second half to his performance of Mussorgsky’s “Pictures at an Exhibition”.

Farr, born in 1968, as the program notes stated, is “recognized as one of New Zealand’s leading composers.” He studied composition and percussion performance at the University of Auckland and at Victoria University, Wellington. He moved to the United States to pursue studies at the Eastman School of Music with Samuel Adler and Christopher Rouse. A recipient of many commissions and performances, Farr’s music is particularly influenced by his extensive study of percussion–both Western and Non-Western. Rhythmic elements of his can be linked to the exciting rhythms of Barotongen log drum ensembles, Balinese gamelan and other percussion music of the Pacific Rim. In 2006, Gareth Farr was made an officer of the New Zealand Order of Merit for services to music and entertainment, and most recently in 2010, he was the recipient of the prestigious New Zealand Arts Laureate Award.

The evening began with two of Farr’s works for solo piano: 1) “Tentang Cara Gamelan”, dating from 1994, when Farr was still a student at Eastman. The piece is redolent of both Farr’s early interest in Gamelan music, as well as his fascination with French Impressionism such as Debussy, et al. In an early note, Farr cites an imaginary dinner conversation between Debussy and the composer/ethnomusicologist Colin McPhee. While they initially discuss the role of Gamelan in each of their musical styles, professional jealousy disintegrates the conversation into a barrage of tongue-in-cheek insults. Henry Wong Doe’s lively performance, and especially the way he realized the music’s peppery virtuosity via his gestural way of playing the piano (which I found engaging visually) were beneficial to both protagonists. 2) “The Horizon from Owhiro Bay”, a short work commissioned by the James Wallace Trust for pianist Stephen Depledge as part of his program of Landscape Preludes by New Zealand composers, together with eleven other short works. Depledge gave the premiere in February 2008 in New Zealand, and Mr. Wong Doe gave the piece its North American premiere in his debut recital at Weill Recital Hall. Gareth Farr vividly conjures the Prelude’s descriptive aspects (Moody green depth; Inky blue sky; Endless unbroken horizon; Fishing Boats sitting on the horizon all lit up; occasional gusts of wind; wild eddies on the surface of the water; the odd rogue wave (hurling itself onto the rocks and up into the air in a spectacular explosion of sea spray, et al). It is a fine mood piece and I am looking forward to hearing Henry Wong Doe’s forthcoming recording of Farr’s Piano Music (Horizon MMT 2070).

The two piano solos were followed by a pair of chamber music compositions, one for flute and piano: “Nga Whetue e Whitu” (“The Seven Stars”), commissioned for Bridget Douglas (principal flautist in the New Zealand Symphony) and his regular pianist, Rachel Thomson. Alternating Messiaen-like harmonies with Farr’s moto perpetuo energy and sharp, articulated notes, he propels the music at a feverish pace. Both of its two movements are united by Farr’s expansion of long lyrical passages and unique amalgamation of rhythm and sonority. It was expertly played, with a cool “white” tone by Jesse Schiffman, flautist, and Henry Wong Doe.

But it was “The Shadow of the Hawk”, a 1997 work, originally commissioned by cellist James Tennant and pianist Katherine Austion that made the strongest impression on this listener. Farr writes about this composition: “The shadow of the hawk rises and falls as the landscape gently undulates beneath it. One moment it is indistinct and unfocused, the next it snaps into clear definition as the ground rises. A rocky outcrop thrusts up towards the sky.” Farr’s use of the cello confounds the usual conventionality—“the unique combination of cello pizzicato and piano bass notes in the opening gives the work an almost ‘jazzy’ groove.” How fascinating to hear the usually expansively melodic cello used as a percussion instrument. This was a brilliant performance by Mr. Wong Doe and Jisoo Ok, a Korean-born former pupil of Bonnie Hampton and Fred Sherry (Bachelor’s and Master’s at Juilliard).

Mr. Wong Doe’s version of Mussorgsky’s “Pictures”, though a shade raw and unpolished, had great vitality and engaging thrust and characterization. He was at his best in some of the more aggressive Promenades (e.g. the opening one, and the final one just before Limoges), Gnomus, Baba Yaga, which had the appropriate sinister ferocity, and The Old Castle, which came forth with a long, flowing line (this vignette, believe it or not, has moments that are surprisingly Schubertian!). Other scenes had their drawbacks: Bidlo, for all its appropriate weight and ponderousness, sounded unrelievedly stolid and brutal. Tuilleries and The Unhatched Chicks lacked delicacy, humor and playful animation. The portrait of Samuel Goldenberg was suitably pompous, though his counterpart Schmuyle was stiff and unmemorable (but credit Mr. Wong Doe for superbly closing that piece with a correct C, D flat, B flat, B flat!). Best of all was the wonderfully inclusive, bustling Limoges Market Place. Alas, the Great Gate of Kiev, which ought to have been the suite’s proper capstone, was more than a bit anticlimactic and sectionalized. (The dangerous first note, coming right after the ferocious lead-in can be brilliantly effective at times but can dangerously fall flat as a pancake—as it did on this particular occasion). But enough faultfinding: Henry Wong Doe’s guided tour (he opted for Mussorgsky’s original unbowdlerized text), though not in the Richter class, was an extremely worthy effort.

I am most grateful to the pianist for lavishing his attention on the music of Gareth Farr. Incidentally, another of Farr’s pieces, entitled “Love Song” was played as an encore after the “Pictures”. (It sounded much more popsy and Flower Child-like, and not at all like the other Farr pieces on the concert’s first half).

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Pro Musicis Concert Series 2012 in Review

Pro Musicis Concert Series 2012
Andrew Staupe, piano, Alexandria Le, piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall;  New York, NY
April 11, 2012
 
Alexandria Le

Alexandria Le

Pro Musicis award winners Andrew Staupe and Alexandria Le appeared in a shared recital that also was each pianist’s New York debut.  With three world premiere pieces and some of the great works in the piano repertoire, it had the makings of a fascinating evening.  Happily, this was the case, as both performers brought brilliance, poetry, and a deep understanding of their respective selections.

Andrew Staupe

Andrew Staupe

Mr. Staupe took the first half of the recital and opened with the Fantasy in F-sharp Minor, Op. 28, by Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847). Commonly called “Scottish Fantasy”, this work is Mendelssohn’s musical impression of Scotland, imbued with the spirit of the ancient poet Ossian. Mr. Staupe demonstrated a good sense of drama, with a confident manner, never allowing the stormy moments to be muddied or the lyrical sections to become overly sentimental, ending this work with a driven passion.  Two world premiere works followed without break between them. As Mr. Staupe informed the audience, these works were written especially for him by composers who are his close friends. The first by Christopher Walczak (b.1970), “Dark Blue Etude”, is in the words of the composer, “a hyper-compressed sonata form with a disproportionate coda”.  Indeed, it was over almost as soon as it began, but was played with subtlety.  I’d like to hear this work again, but at a much slower tempo! “Delusion” by Karl Blench (b. 1981) relies on the performer to choose the pace (“play the notes as fast as comfortably possible”), which makes each performance unique, but highly dependent on the ability of the performer. Mr. Staupe’s technical prowess made it a success.  Following these premieres was “La terrasse des audiences du clair de lune”, from the Préludes, Book II, of Claude Debussy (1862-1918). Awash in exoticism, this work requires a nuanced touch, which Mr. Staupe provided in a delicate and crystalline performance. The pianissimo final measures were stunningly rendered with a clarity I have rarely heard.  “Rudepoêma” by Brazilian composer Heitor Villa-Lobos (1887-1959) ended Mr. Staupe’s half. This massive work, with elements of savagery is not for the faint of heart (listener and performer alike!).  Described by some as a Brazilian “Le Sacre du Printemps”, I disagree; this work is the essence of Villa-Lobos – raw genius overflowing with ideas and passion. Mr. Staupe gave a brilliant performance, handling the virtuosic demands with apparent ease, capturing the savage without ever resorting to pounding, and maintaining a tremendous level of stamina and power. After the four final fist-driven hammer blows, the audience responded with what appeared to be bewildered applause.  I was stunned- this was one of the most incredible performances of this masterpiece I have ever heard, live or recorded. I wanted to shout out to the audience, “Wake up! Don’t you realize you have had the privilege of hearing a once-in-a-lifetime performance!”  Almost as an apology, Mr. Staupe played a Scarlatti sonata as an encore (stating “let me play something without my fist”), which he did with grace.

Ms. Le began her half with the Fantasy in G minor, Op. 77 of Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827).  Written in an improvisational style, this work shows the influence of C.P.E. Bach, whom Beethoven admired greatly. Ms. Le is a passionate and involved player; she invests herself entirely in her performance, which is ideal for a work of this nature.  Playing with fiery abandon, Ms. Lee gave a reading filled with impulsive pathos, but also longing and beauty.  “Competing Demands” by Ryan Carter (b.1981) was given its world premiere by Ms. Le. Mr. Carter is a close friend and former classmate of Ms. Le and he wrote this piece especially for her. Ms. Le shared with the audience that Mr. Carter is a great fan of the hall and wrote the piece with the hall in mind – an interesting concept.  Requiring a delicate, quicksilver touch in the right hand and a loud, insistent left hand, Ms. Le showed that she was up to the challenge.  There might have been a moment when something in the treble lost traction, but all in all, it was an exciting performance. To finish her half, Ms. Le took on “Pictures at an Exhibition” by Modest Mussorgsky (1839-1881). This work suits Ms Le completely – the concept of musical realizations of art works by a pianist who is so adept at painting tonal pictures.  “The Gnome” was played with sinister grotesqueness that was spot on.  “Tuileries” had the light and delicate touch of children at play, while “Bydlo” was powerfully played, as if the depicted wagon were passing through the hall, fading as it exited.  “The Ballet of the Chicks in Their Shells” had all the humor one could imagine, and “Catacombs”, “Roman Tombs”, and “Cum Mortuis in Lingua Mortua” were simply fantastic. “The Hut on Fowl’s Legs” was played by Ms. Le with demonic flair. She brought this tour-de-force to a close with a majestic “Great Gate of Kiev”, which ended a memorable performance in triumphal style. The audience responded with waves of applause. For an encore, Ms. Le gave a poetic reading of “Danza de la moza donosa” from the “Danzas Argentinas” of Argentine composer Alberto Ginastera. As a final send off, the two pianists paired to play the Hungarian Melody, D.817 of Franz Schubert, as arranged by Mr. Staupe for four hands.

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Evelina Puzaite, Pianist in Review

 Evelina Puzaite, Pianist in Review
Weill Hall at Carnegie Hall
April 1, 2012
 
Evelina Puzaite

Evelina Puzaite

Evelina Puzaite is a young Lithuanian-born pianist currently based in London and winner of various distinctions and prizes including the Rubinstein Piano Competition in Paris (First Prize). She has recorded for Landor Records in the UK and has performed widely in recital, chamber music, and with orchestra; she is not, however a run-of-the-mill contest pianist. Her biography lists that she is also a published composer (and winner of the Grodno composition contest) as well as a writer of short stories (having had her first book published in 2008). It is always exciting to see this sort of multi-faceted artist – bringing to mind Lera Auerbach and an elite group of others – as that extra dimension can lead to memorable performances.

Ms. Puzaite’s New York Debut was indeed memorable, and the interesting programming was a large part of it. Aside from Rachmaninoff, Prokofiev, and Liszt, much of her program consisted of rarely heard works. She opened with Three Preludes by Ciurlionis (1875-1911), the Lithuanian painter and composer, and it was a refreshing adventure off the beaten path. The first Prelude, while reminiscent of Scriabin, showed an original voice, while the second one, sharply rhythmic and dissonant, reflected more folk influence. Perhaps most interesting was the third, of dreamlike shifting harmonies and timbres, very sensitively rendered by Ms. Puzaite.

Moving to better-known repertoire, the pianist gave an excellent account of Rachmaninoff’s “Six Moments Musicaux”, Op. 16. The first of these gems, the soulful B-flat Minor Andantino, had much to offer in this pianist’s hands, including some delicate voicing and finely woven filigree. One loved the freedom in Ms. Puzaite’s playing, though occasionally the license seemed a bit much, obscuring some distinctive changes in meter; through generous bending, a 7/4 measure sounded like 8/4, and a 5/4 bar sounded like 6/4, basically squaring off Rachmaninoff’s beautiful irregularities. Such liberties enhanced other pieces in the set, though, and the Allegretto in E-flat minor shimmered; Puzaite played in the original version, not the 1940 revision, which I actually prefer, but I enjoyed it. The Andante Cantabile in B Minor had breathed pathos, while never losing melodic direction as it easily can; some dynamic liberties were again well planned to help add focus and shape to the musical meditation, and some creative articulations heightened the conception. The fourth piece, the Presto in E Minor was brilliant, using to maximum effect the resonant Weill Hall Steinway, and the fifth, Adagio Sostenuto in D-flat Major, was lovingly shaped and expressed (though one wanted perhaps less bass here). The final Maestoso was a tad underplayed, explaining perhaps why Ms. Puzaite chose not end the first half with it as one might expect; it seemed she was trying more for lyricism and judicious pacing, but one missed some of the heroic feeling.

A quiet breather came next with “White Scenery” from the piano cycle “The Seasons” by Latvian composer Peteris Vasks (b.1946). It is a mesmerizing and moving work, with minimalist elements, gentle chord clusters, liberal pedal, and a doleful long-breathed melody suggesting infinite absence. The Prokofiev Toccata rallied the energies back for the most virtuosic playing of the evening. It was a clean, sterling performance, with plenty of power, suggesting that any holding back in earlier works was probably perfectly intentional.

Ms. Puzaite introduced her own Piano Sonata in C Major (1999) to open the second half. Judging by the year of composition, this compact sonata must have been an extremely youthful endeavor, but it reveals a musician of tremendous versatility and pianism. A circus-like profusion of sounds emerged, from repeated fifths and motoric syncopations to music box effects and flirtatious slides (think Bartok and Rebikoff dancing to Carmen’s Habanera). It is always a joy to hear a pianist play his own work, and this was a refreshing novelty.

Liszt’s “La Leggierezza” and “Un Sospiro” were a break to Romanticism before Kodály’s “Dances of Marosszek” closed the evening. The Kodály is an exciting work, better known as an orchestral piece than in its original piano scoring. I’d previously preferred the second version, but with the enormous contrast and energy that Ms. Puzaite gave, it possibly surpassed the color of a typical orchestral performance! It was a rousing close to a scintillating evening. Rhythmic applause was acknowledged with an encore of the Bach-Siloti Prelude in B Minor.

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