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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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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The Lin-Castro-Balbi Duo in Review

MidAmerica Productions Presents “Playing Favorites”
The Lin-Castro-Balbi Duo in Review: Jesús Castro-Balbi, cello and Gloria Lin, piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall; New York, NY
March 25, 2012

A beautifully conceived program of music for cello and piano offered something for everyone, as the husband-wife team of Gloria Lin and Jesús Castro-Balbi brought a mix ranging from Beethoven (actually from Mozart, if one counts the theme of the Beethoven variations) all the way to an American work composed in 2012. Peruvian-born cellist Castro-Balbi and Taiwanese pianist Gloria Lin have performed widely as individuals, but their musical marriage adds a special dimension to their careers, both as performers and as faculty members at Texas Christian University in Fort Worth, Texas.

Beethoven’s Seven Variations in E-flat on a Theme from Mozart’s “Die Zauberflöte” (WoO 46, 1801) opened on a poised and authoritative note. What could be a happier opening for two partners in life than the love duet “Bei Mannern welche Liebe fuhlen”, given some of Beethoven’s sunniest treatment? This work found the duo to be very much equal players, not soloist and accompanist as often happens; having the piano lid raised on the full stick seemed to underscore this partnership. Ms. Lin was able to handle the resonance without ever letting the rapid passagework become obtrusive, and Mr. Castro-Balbi played with a strong, projective tone. In the parallel minor Variation 4, the cellist was at his expressive best, while the pianist had her finest expressive moments in Variation 6. If Variation 7 was a bit unsettled, one could hardly fault them after the hallowed space between variations was interrupted by a particularly hideous cellphone ringtone; they recovered from the intrusion well, however, closing the work in sanguine spirit.

Shostakovich’s Sonata, Op. 40 was a good segue and counterbalance, classically conceived, yet with the probing and dissonance of the 1934 world. The pair’s reading showed brooding darkness in the first and third movements and considerable relish in the playful and rugged second and fourth movements. Both players achieved moments of brilliance and beauty throughout, though not quite reaching the level of visceral involvement that I love to feel in this work.

Debussy’s Sonate for cello (1915) opened the second half with a French masterpiece, combining a rhapsodic approach to form with every cello challenge in the book. Mr. Castro-Balbi was more than up to its demands. The duo nicely captured the quixotic nature of its central Sérénade and the soaring Final. It was a fine (though unstated) tribute to Debussy in his 150th anniversary year. The World Premiere of Till MacIvor Meyn’s “Revolutions” (2012) was a highlight of the evening, a work of violent ostinatos and wrestling dissonances, giving rise to dramatic transformations. The passion and synchronization made this piece simply electric. The composer writes in his notes that the work was inspired by the regime overthrows in the Middle East, as well as by an alternate definition of “revolution,” the sense of “turning or revolving of tonalities in the music.” Mr. Meyn, a colleague of the duo at TCU, composed the work especially for Ms. Lin and Mr. Castro-Balbi, and it suited them perfectly, as it did the resonant bass of the hall’s Steinway.

“Le Grand Tango” by Piazzolla concluded the written program. Originally for cello and piano, this piece exists in many other versions (this listener having played it on two pianos), and it can be equally successful in all its incarnations. It can be alternately suave, smoldering, and searing in each one, but it needs careful pacing. In this particular case, I felt it peaked too soon, and the effort to prolong a crescendo from such intense dynamic levels felt too strenuous. On the other hand, it aroused a large burst of applause, capping off what was all in all an excellent recital.

The first exciting encore was a jazzy movement from “Manhattan Serenades” by Gabriela Frank, followed by the more contemplative “Poema III” by Brazilian composer Marlos Nobre.

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Gila Goldstein Pianist in Review

Gila Goldstein, Piano
Saint Andrew Music Society: Music on Madison
Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church, New York, N.Y.
March 18, 2012
 
Gila Goldstein

Gila Goldstein

 

Balmy weather in New York may seem like stiff competition for one’s afternoon versus sitting indoors at a piano recital, but a lot depends on the program and the artist. As it turned out, Gila Goldstein’s piano recital was the perfect welcome to imminent spring. Opening with a substantial work by J. S. Bach, whom many musicians associate with spring (both for his birthdate and his perennial newness), Ms. Goldstein gave one of the finest accounts I can recall of the Partita in E minor.

From its opening Toccata movement, tastefully and meaningfully embellished, she projected its singing lines with a sense of freedom without ever losing sight of the pacing and framework, clearly and thoroughly conceived. To say that a performance is thoroughly satisfying may sound to some like faint praise, but, considering how rarely such a reaction occurs with Bach performances today, it is not. As a pianist-reviewer it can be difficult to set aside one’s preferences within the wide range of possible Bach interpretations, and unsurprisingly, there were fleeting moments in Sunday’s recital when I felt I would have tried for something different; remarkably, however, in each case the dispute was settled by hindsight (or should I say hindsound?), in that her choices ultimately made sense in revelatory ways. I especially admired Ms. Goldstein’s expert treatment of overlapping voices, where individual lines are often either buried or thumped out, and here they simply shone clearly through the transparency of texture she achieved. The Allemande movement was poetically delivered, and while some might take exception to the tendency to shrink suddenly in volume at melodic high points (here and in other movements), there was Romantic poignancy in such moments. The Corrente was so feather light and marvelously controlled in each nanosecond that I was sad that the repeats had not been observed, as it was all over in a blink. Here and elsewhere, Ms. Goldstein followed her heart, and in the end the repeats and absence of repeats all balanced out in a logical way. The Sarabande was thoughtful and compelling, though I occasionally felt that some of the embellishments (as a way to be declamatory perhaps?) burst forth in a way that distracted a bit from the long lines. In any case, it was always engaging, and the Tempo di Gavotta and brilliant Gigue left one wanting for nothing. I would love to hear Ms. Goldstein play and record much more Bach, as I imagine she could easily become one of my favorite Bach interpreters.

In a way, all one has to do after such a fine performance is to avoid spoiling the afterglow – so it was with some reluctance that I moved my attention to anything else – but Ms. Goldstein continued her program quite admirably. Chopin’s Polonaise in C-sharp minor, Op. 26, No. 1, was sensitively delivered next, with more of the arresting “subito piano” phrases one had heard in the Bach, and the exquisite Nocturne in B Major, Op. 62, No. 1, one of my favorites, followed without pause. Possibly the only thing I can imagine that would have heightened the beauty of this performance would have been greater seamlessness in the string of trills at the return of the opening melody  – it is something over which pianists lose sleep, but it can bring a performance to a transcendent level. Chopin’s Barcarolle Op. 60 brought the first half to a commanding close; although the Romantic leanings shown in the Bach had led one to expect more reveling in the extravagant beauty of this work, Ms. Goldstein was persuasive in a relatively taut, muscular reading, leaving much to ponder.

After intermission came Liszt’s Vallée d’Obermann from the Years of Pilgrimage, Volume I (“Suisse”), given great loving attention to detail in the gentler sections and a bold approach in the octave fusillades. Ginastera’s Sonata No. 1 added just the right dimension of dissonance after so much lush harmony, and it was just as vibrant as it needs to be. The first movement could have benefited from a bit more left hand clarity in extremely rapid passages, and the second movement left me wondering whether soft parts could have been still softer (especially where marked with “ppp”), but it seems rather greedy to ask for more of anything when such excellence abounded. Persistent applause was rewarded with an encore of Tchaikovsky’s “October” from The Seasons. It seemed the audience could have stayed for much more, myself included.

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Guitar Fest: Pro Musicis Concert in Review

 Guitar Fest: Pro Musicis Concert in Review
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall
March 14, 2012
Duo Michel de Paula & Luiz Mantovani

Duo Michel de Paula & Luiz Mantovani

Luiz Mantovani

Luiz Mantovani

Emanuele Segre

Pro Musicis, a concert organization that began its auditions in 1965, has presented its awardees in more than 1,900 concerts in Europe, Asia, and North America, both in prominent venues such as Weill Hall and through community outreach programs. This season it presented a recital entitled “Guitar Fest” which included three of their four winning guitarists, Rafael Aguirre, Luiz Mantovani, and Emmanuele Segre. The three combined forces in solos and duos, joined by flutist Michel de Paula and cellist Nadège Rochat, in what was a thoroughly enjoyable evening. There was plenty of variety despite the fact that the program heavily favored music from Spain and South America, as the balancing of lyricism, pyrotechnics, intimate chamber collaboration, and solo virtuosity kept the surprises coming. David Leisner, composer, guitarist, and host for the evening, remarked on the generous spirit of the performers in sharing the stage, but really, the collaborations were to everyone’s benefit.

The first guitarist, Rafael Aguirre, chose to pair with Ms. Rochat, cello, to open with Manuel de Falla’s Spanish Dance from “La Vida Breve” (after which they’ve named their duo). Their blending was expert, and though the cello faced some intonation challenges, its sound did weave seamlessly into the guitar textures. Mr. Aguirre was restrained in his collaborative role. The same duo then played “Volver” by Carlos Gardels and two more selections of Falla, “El Paño Moruno” and “Polo” from “Siete Canciones Populares Españolas,” each player becoming more extroverted with time. Ms. Rochat showed some skillful bending of phrases, while Mr. Aguirre started to show more of the effortless virtuosity that would really come to the fore next in his solo works, including “Guajiras de Lucía” by Paco de Lucía (b. 1947) and Intermedio from “La Boda de Luis Alonso” by Jerónimo Giménez (1854-1923). An outstanding player with unquestionable technique, Mr. Aguirre showed an especially rare gift to make the guitar sing.

The second guitarist Luiz Mantovani took the stage with flutist Michel de Paula in the World Premiere of “Brazilian Landscapes No. 12” by Liduíno Pitombeira (b. 1962). A suite of contrasting impressions in five movements (Ponteio, Baião, Modinha, Frevo, and Acalanto), this set took listeners on a journey through Brazil with the aid of helpful program notes by Dr. Richard E. Rodda. Moving from its languorous prelude to the vibrant Carnival-inspired Frevo (with Mr. de Paula changing to piccolo), and back to its closing lullaby, the suite seemed not so much a mere set of vignettes as a deep immersion into the Brazilian tonal world, inviting many further hearings. The composer was present to bow and thank the performers, exceptional champions for this deserving work.

It was a joy then to hear Mr. Mantovani after intermission in a more familiar work by which one could concentrate on his solo artistry. His introspective rendition of the “Valsa-Chôro” from the “Suite Popular Brasileira” by Heitor Villa-Lobos was just perfect in its plaintive beauty.

David Leisner’s “Mirage” (1987) followed, bringing guitarist Emanuele Segre onstage in duo with Mr. Mantovani. The duo realized this finely wrought piece with tremendous dedication and projection. The contrapuntal opening was magnificently clear in its “dialogue” while in the rapid passages the duo combined as one in a single line. It is an excellent piece, and it was given a first-rate performance.

Mr. Segre continued the evening with two South American works, starting with “Canto de Ossanha” by Baden Powell (1937-2000). A captivating piece from its simple opening through its subsequent development, it was given an amazing degree of contrast and nuance by Mr. Segre, a most expressive and dramatic interpreter with one of the largest dynamic ranges I’ve heard from a guitarist. Prelude No.1 in E Minor by Villa-Lobos was followed by two works by Roland Dyens (b.1955), “Songe Capricorne” and then “Fuoco” from “Libra Sonatine”, alternately Bachian and jazzy, punctuated with percussive bursts, and full of intense expression. It was a dynamic close to an exciting evening.

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Reflections of Life (DCINY), in Review

DISTINGUISHED CONCERTS INTERNATIONAL NEW YORK: DCINY
REFLECTIONS OF LIFE: Distinguished Concerts Orchestra International and Distinguished Concerts Singers International in Music of James Eakin III and Greg Gilpin
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall; New York, NY
February 20, 2012
 

“Reflections of Life” Distinguished Concerts Orchestra and Singers International; PHOTO CREDIT – Richard Termine

 

Distinguished Concerts International New York (DCINY) has a gift for drawing large numbers of performers from far and wide and bringing them to still larger audiences, creating what are often spectacular events. Their most recent concert featuring music by James Eakin III and Greg Gilpin was no exception. High school and adult choruses from New Jersey, Texas, Alabama, Colorado, Wisconsin, Indiana, Minnesota, Louisiana, California, and Pennsylvania all converged onto the Perlman Stage, with choirs also filling several front balconies, enveloping the listener with sound; if one doubted the life-affirming power of classical music today, one might have a change of heart just from the sheer collective energy. Granted, not all the music performed was strictly classical, but Broadway and folk music were blended seamlessly into the mix with the help of DCINY’s versatile orchestra. Special guest, Clay Aiken, made an appearance to lend his support to the festivities with brief comments during the second hal8f.

The first half was devoted to the World Premiere of a 47-minute choral work, “Flowers Over the Graves of War” by James Eakin III, who has also written extensively for film and television. As the composer explains in his notes, “Commentary on the horrors of war and pleas to God for forgiveness and guidance permeate this work.” In six movements set to poetry by Michael Dennis Browne, along with Latin texts from traditional Requiem movements, the work ultimately conveys messages of faith, mercy, hope, and peace. As the composer also comments, the three soloists express the more introspective lines; soprano, Ida Nicolosi, mezzo-soprano Kirsten Allegri, and tenor Gregory Warren were commendable in their parts. A highlight was in the Sanctus, where the upper voices joined in duet, later united with the tenor in powerful trio. According to the composer, the higher voices were to express the “unwavering love and faith of a child” with the lower voices expressing darker elements. One wondered by the end of the work whether this “work of contrasts” (as the composer describes it) might have prospered from more juxtaposition of dissonance and consonance as well as the contrasting registers and textures, since even some sections modifying text about war seemed quite mild; on the other hand, such sweetness suited the choirs at hand, as well as the ultimate message of mercy. The use of percussion in martial sections added ballast, and while the orchestra may have been a bit overzealous in volume, the soloists generally met the challenge of projecting over them. Overall, I found this a moving work by a composer from whom I’ll be interested to hear more. Deft conducting by Tim Seelig brought it all together well.

After intermission we heard original and arranged music of Greg Gilpin
, with the conductor at the podium.  Mr. Gilpin conducted with infectious energy, and his choral works matched his conducting style in their all-embracing range.  Listening to the opening piece, “Why We Sing,” one could understand the popularity this work has had with choruses since its publication in 2005.  “Through the Eyes of a Child” (text by Mark Burrows and music by Gilpin and Burrows) brought out one of the themes of the evening, the bond between young and old, and “A Child’s Credo/In Virtute Tua” (a World Premiere) underscored that bond further.  These are works of immediate appeal that blur distinctions between classical and popular music. “There’s Room for Many-a More!” added the joyous touch of the American Spiritual, and a medley of favorites from 
”The Music of ‘The Wizard of Oz’” capped off the evening in high spirits.  Mr. Gilpin seems destined for ever-widening popular appeal. As is often the case with arrangements, there were some program omissions in crediting original sources; naturally the medley was Mr. Gilpin’s conception, but it seems a shame when, for example, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” is sung, not to see the name of its composer Harold Arlen mentioned anywhere.  In any case, the end of the evening found the audience quite uplifted.

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Katelyn Tran, Pianist in Review

Katelyn Tran, piano
New York Piano Academy: West End Presbyterian Church, New York, N.Y.
January 25, 2012
 
 
Katelyn Tran

Katelyn Tran

 

Still a high school student only 17 years old, Katelyn Tran has an arsenal of piano technique and repertoire that would make many twenty-something conservatory pianists envious. Well taught for seven years by distinguished composer-pianist Ronn Yedidia (who presented this recital) as well as Veda Zuponcic prior to that, Ms. Tran lists a string of competition awards that already takes a full page. What’s more, the mentions of what repertoire she has covered in these various competitions show her as a musician with genuine musical fluency and versatility, not some formulaic “bag of tricks” taken out through win after win. Her playing itself, as heard in this debut recital, confirmed that she has a musical grasp far beyond her years, as well as the technique and stamina to carry her through ambitious programs. Should she choose to pursue the musical life beyond this point, there seems no limit to how far she might go. As music is a “jealous mistress” that decision will be the key.

Beethoven’s Sonata No. 27, Op. 90, in E minor opened the program. Ms. Tran played it with the kind of mellow maturity it requires, and my only reservation was that I wanted a tiny bit more breathing at phrase endings. As it was an opener, one might expect some adrenaline-related rushing, so this minor restlessness made hardly a blip on one’s radar.  Following Beethoven came two movements of Schumann’s Grand Sonata No. 3, Op 14, in F minor, the Allegro Brillante and the Quasi Variazioni: Andantino de Clara Wieck. It is always a joy to hear this Schumann programmed, as it is full of marvelous surprises but played less often than so many of the composer’s other works – another testament to Dr. Yedidia’s teaching through the exploration of a wide piano literature. Ms. Tran handled it with a mastery that was astonishing to behold in one so young, and one could envision that, given time to live with it, hers could become one of the outstanding renditions of the piece. Chopin’s Scherzo No. 2, Op. 31, in Bb minor rounded out the first half.  Small interpretive disagreements aside, she gave it a winning performance. Occasionally I felt too much haste in her finger work, in that passages seemed to “slide into home plate” rather than to arrive with fullness, but that quality is almost endemic to the world of the busy teenager. Hers was playing that moved ceaselessly to the next thing, as undoubtedly one so talented must do in life when faced with a surfeit of gifts.

Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition after intermission felt more “in the moment,” and the local color was ample. “The Old Castle” felt more desolate and expansive than ever, and I’ve never heard heavier oxen depicted than in her “Bydlo” movement – one had to resist laughing out loud to watch this delicate, elegant young lady create such sounds. The “Ballet of the Unhatched Chicks” also popped with life. Only some understandable messiness towards the end of the whole piece showed the effects of the program’s demands. It crossed my mind that it could also be the specter of Liszt’s Mephisto Waltz No. 1, yet to come, that prevented Mussorgsky from receiving the consummate finish it could have had, and the truth is that the program would have been sufficient without the Liszt; that said, when I heard her Liszt I could see why she (or her teacher) could not resist adding it. She handled it like child’s play. Over time the Mephisto Waltz may gain a touch more of its seductive element to match the speed demon aspect, but what a tremendous foundation it will have.

Ms. Tran graciously provided an encore of Debussy’s Clair de Lune, a very emotional touch marking the close of her years at the New York Piano Academy and the debut of untold wonders. It was simply beautiful.

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Ang Li, Pianist in Review

Ang Li, piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall
December 18, 2011

The recent New York recital of Chinese-Canadian pianist Ang Li was billed both as her Weill Recital Hall debut and as a Franz Liszt 200th birthday year celebration entitled “Years of Pilgrimage.” Referring to the masterful suites of Liszt’s, “Années de Pèlerinage,” the program actually included only one work from these sets, “Les jeux d’eaux à la Villa d’Este” from Book III; beyond this selection, the program title was mostly a gentle suggestion of unity for music that also included Liszt transcriptions of Schubert and Wagner and Liszt’s Ballade No. 2 on the first half, and two contemporary Canadian works, plus music of Debussy and Granados on the second half. It was certainly more wide-ranging than other “Liszt celebrations” heard this year – some would even say that some stated connections were rather tenuous – but it did demonstrate that it is hard to find any music not connected to Liszt by “six degrees of separation” or fewer.

It was a wise decision for Ang Li to branch out, as she came to life most with the more modern works on the program. There is no question that Ms. Li has the technical equipment for the rigors of Romantic virtuoso piano music, and her credentials, including numerous accolades and international tours, point to her mastery and versatility; her temperament, on the other hand, seemed a better fit for works by the non-Romantics. She showed a particular affinity for Debussy’s timbres through her finely controlled touch in “Brouillards” (“Mists”), while Minstrels had just the right bumptious feeling. “Feux d’artifice” (“Fireworks”) closed the group of three Debussy Preludes with brilliance, leaving one wondering whether an impressionistic theme program can be far behind in his upcoming 150th anniversary.

Prior to Debussy, we heard the US Premiere of  “Es ist genug!” (2007) by Jérôme Blais (b. 1965). An intriguing, partly improvisatory work, it incorporates into a dreamlike tonal backdrop various fragments of music by J. S. Bach, as representative of the sacred in this composer’s otherwise atheistic view. One heard, among other fragments, bits of Bach’s D Major Prelude (WTC, Book II) and the B-flat Partita with bits of the title Chorale. What could have resembled (and at times approached) an Ivesian dream of Juilliard’s practice floor before a Bach recital was held together powerfully in Ms. Li’s inspired and focused conception. The composer was present to speak and receive applause, as was Jared Miller (b. 1988) whose “Souvenirs d’Europe” (2011) were given a persuasive account. Prompted by recent travels in Europe, Mr. Miller’s three pieces suggested fountains (“Fontaines”), the cathedral of Notre Dame (“Origines”), and a Spanish tourist scene (“¡La Rambla!”). Kinship with Liszt stopped at the travel-themed title, though, as these were in a new, individual tonal language (perhaps with the exception of “Origines” which struck one as resembling Messiaen – appropriately enough, given the inspiration). Miller writes brilliantly for the piano and shows remarkable accomplishment for one so young. He was quite fortunate, one must add, to have a pianist as skilled as Ms. Li to perform his music.

Also very successful was the Granados Allegro de Concierto, which closed the program. The end of the program’s westward travel arc concluding in sunny Spain, it seemed to warm the musical temperature of things, in phrasing and timbre, where the opening Liszt half had not.

The opening work, the Wagner-Liszt transcription of Isolde’s Liebestod had plunged the audience into high drama perhaps too suddenly, and the three Schubert-Liszt song transcriptions (“Wohin?”, “Der Müller und der Bach,” and “Gretchen am Spinnrade”) were well done, but felt somehow disengaged. Liszt’s “Les jeux d’eaux à la Villa d’Este” was technically stunning (and a beautiful precedent for the Jared Miller fountains), but even the octave fusillades in the Ballade No. 2 in B minor, though confidently executed, seemed to leave performer and audience a bit cold.

All in all, I look forward to hearing Ms. Li again in ever more personally expressive playing. Encores of a Chinese folk song (Chen Peixun’s “Autumn Moon Over the Calm Lake”) and Alexina Louie’s “Memories In An Ancient Garden” showed where some of that more personal involvement might lead.

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Lloyd Arriola pianist in Review

Lloyd Arriola, piano
Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
November 20, 2011
 
Arriola Lloyd, pianist; Photo Credit by Kristin Hoebermann of Hoebermann Studios, New York

Arriola Lloyd, pianist; Photo Credit by Kristin Hoebermann of Hoebermann Studios, New York

 
 
 

Continuing the celebration of Franz Liszt’s 200th anniversary, Lloyd Arriola added his Weill Recital Hall debut to the festivities, bringing works to the table that are less than familiar to the average concertgoer. One could dedicate this entire review to Mr. Arriola’s bold and original programming, but the performer himself warrants full focus here; suffice it to say that the unconventional selections underscored the freshness that pervaded the recital in every way.

My first impression of Mr. Arriola was of his highly entertaining program notes, written in a conversational style with occasionally irreverent humor (e.g., a comparison of two of Liszt’s “sister” works to Wynonna and Ashley Judd), but always with expertise and insight. After decades of attending concerts, these are among the few sets of program notes I am actually tempted to save. I’d like to devote a separate article to this subject –how program notes should not read like a college theory essay or worse – but will meanwhile say that they do matter. Mr. Arriola “sells” his music, and it starts before the concert. The pianist’s biography, listing a doctorate from Juilliard and numerous performances as soloist, collaborator, and conductor, was similarly refreshing, avoiding the puffery one sees so often, but presenting the portrait of a working musician wearing many hats, all requiring top-notch skills. Following the biography was a page of grateful acknowledgments that would make an Oscar-winner blush.  If all this text painted the picture of Mr. Arriola as a passionate “people person” his first steps onstage confirmed it. Cheers greeted him before he played a note, not the work of a claque, but the intense, spontaneous outburst of many friends present.

In an instant summoning of concentration, Mr. Arriola took on an opener of Liszt’s “Grand solo de concert,” composed as a test piece for students at a Paris Conservatory competition in 1849. A test it is, chock full of every kind of technical stunt possible (and some impossible!), but Mr. Arriola handled it with polish and aplomb. It is a substantial and exhausting work, especially when played with the intensity given on this occasion, so one marveled not only at its choice (it is understandably neglected), but also at its placement as opening piece.

A hard act to follow, it was followed nonetheless by another neglected giant, Liszt’s Fantasia and Fugue on the Chorale “Ad nos, a salutarem undam” (Illustration No. 4 from Meyerbeer’s “Le Prophéte”) transcribed by Ferrucio Busoni. Here Mr. Arriola coupled his large-scale technique with an absolutely solid mastery of structure and difficult fugal writing. It was a dramatic performance – a rare combination of passion and extroversion with laser-sharp cerebral focus. Occasionally, I felt Mr. Arriola overplayed dynamically, producing some unduly harsh sounds along with some rather distracting foot stomping, but I would take his commitment any day over its opposite. The excitement of the evening was, after all, palpable.

After intermission came an assortment of what one might call curiosities. Liszt’s shortest composition “Prélude omnitonique” (about six seconds long) was summarized by the pianist’s announcement that “every birthday party deserves a gag gift.” All jokes aside, Liszt was in many ways a visionary (as one might see in a more serious vein in the “Bagatelle sans Tonalité” and other works), and a listener enjoyed this break from the pyrotechnics. After some laughter, the Prelude was replayed (a nice touch) as an introduction to “Vagyodas Amerika Utan” (“Longing for America”) by the late Liszt proponent Ervin Nyiregyhazi (1903-1987). It was a welcome discovery for those of us who know the name Nyiregyhazi mainly as a controversial pianistic figure. Also most welcome was Liszt’s introspective “En Rêve (1884-85) played with sensitivity. In addition we heard Fantasia in D (2011), a work Mr. Arriola commissioned from Harrison Gross, a 17-year-old student at the school where Arriola is a pianist. It was a touching gesture.

Liszt Magyar Rapszódia No. 12 (Heroïde élégiaque), an earlier version of the Hungarian Rhapsody No. 5, closed the program with brilliance and spirit. An encore by the pianist cleverly fused Gershwin’s “Someone to Watch Over Me” with bits of Liszt’s Piano Concerto in E-flat (along with touches of Fats Waller and others). One could only guess that Liszt, the quintessential performer, would have approved. The audience certainly did.

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Adam Gyorgy Pianist in Review

 Adam Gyorgy  pianist in Review
Stern Auditorium at  Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
November 13, 2011
 
Adam Gyorgy

Adam Gyorgy

 It is a testament to the gifts of Franz Liszt that, well into this year of countless 200th anniversary commemorative concerts, Liszt’s music still emerges as the inexhaustible treasure that it is. Having given several all-Liszt recitals just a few weeks ago, I had some hesitation about this assignment to review a Liszt program, but my faith in the diverse repertoire and acceptance of a wide variety of interpretive styles won out. As it has always seemed to me more meaningful to be reviewed by musicians with genuine experience in the repertoire being performed, that belief also helped offset any reservations. After all, a pianist is often the best judge of what sets (or doesn’t set) another pianist apart.

Adam Gyorgy is a young Hungarian pianist whose publicity sets him apart long before one enters the concert hall. Eye-catching photographs of the athletic Mr. Gyorgy in various exuberant action poses are matched by a biography that, in addition to the expected litany of credentials, traces his performing life to his early childhood tendency of drawing houses upside down, in consideration of the perceptions of others across a table. One imagines it was the same extroverted spirit that spurred the 2009 founding of his Adam Gyorgy Castle Academy in his native Hungary, also an effort to “give back” after all the help he received in his youth. Judging from Sunday’s performance, Mr. Gyorgy has much to give – it is only a question of how best to do it.

Starting from the high points, Gyorgy closed the evening by bringing brilliance and élan to a work that has been beset with kitschy associations for almost a century, Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2. While there are other works that offer a much nobler example of Liszt’s output, Gyorgy’s fresh and engaging performance dispelled preconceptions. Moving backwards from this last programmed work (in upside-down-house fashion), one enjoyed an excellent performance of Liszt’s La Campanella from the Paganini Etudes. Sure-fingered and seemingly effortless, this performance also had the greatest tonal and dynamic range of the evening. It seems Mr. Gyorgy has lived with both this Etude and the Rhapsody, and they could easily become “signature” pieces.

Preceding these last two pieces, Liszt’s Rigoletto paraphrase was delivered with polish and confidence, but it was not set apart from the standard that one has come to expect, technically and interpretively, from any number of today’s young conservatory graduates. A similar impression was left by the pianist’s straitlaced performance of Chopin’s Ballade in G minor, which also seemed somewhat anomalous on this Liszt tribute program, despite the fact that Liszt and Chopin were contemporaries.

What was more puzzling, though, was that Mr. Gyorgy chose to play the Chopin (or anything for that matter) directly after Liszt’s epic B Minor Sonata (the recital having no intermission), making the latter masterpiece somehow a mere prelude to increased brilliance. It seemed a disservice to both Chopin and Liszt to juxtapose them this way.  Some pianists (perhaps those who are trying to see and hear things from a lay audience perspective – the upside-down house) find the Liszt’s quiet ending problematic and awkward, hastening to follow it with more instantly gratifying works; even an untutored audience, however, can be trusted to grasp the depth of its final utterances and savor the silence. Perhaps this is a case for building the metaphorical house from the ground up and letting the audience come inside – there is integrity in that. An intermission would have helped.

What matched the Sonata’s minimized role on the program was the understated performance itself, subdued to the point where my companion asked whether there was a problem with the piano. The work seemed never to catch fire, with climaxes in the score (some marked triple forte) emerging muffled and monochromatic. The inherent wrestling and storming in this highly dramatic work were absent, while phrases needing to be ponderous or prescient became moderate and Mendelssohnian. Having encountered literally hundreds of renditions of this work, live and recorded, I found it difficult to embrace this one. The notes were mostly there, with admirably few smudges (not exactly unusual these days), but I needed more.

The recital’s opening “Improvisation” by Mr. Gyorgy did not help set up the Liszt either. Full of repeated primary harmonies in a sedate, New Age-type style, it seemed to dull the acute type of listening that the ensuing motivically complex Sonata requires. While quite pretty and delicately shaded, it bathed one’s ears in a wash of somewhat facile diatonic “heaven” that rendered almost meaningless the hard-won apotheosis of Liszt’s thirty minutes of high Romantic grappling. All in all, I will be eager to hear Mr. Gyorgy’s very promising playing again, but hopefully with more effective programming and more personally compatible repertoire choices.

An encore of the Liszt-Mendelssohn Wedding March (not the popular Horowitz version, but an extended transcription seeming to borrow from it) concluded the concert with spirit and humor.

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