Yerevan Perspectives International Music Festival Presents Evgeny Kissin: “With You, Armenia”
A Concert to Commemorate the 100th Anniversary of the Armenian Genocide
Evgeny Kissin, piano; Hover Chamber Choir, Sona Hovhannisyan, Director and Choirmaster
Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
May 26, 2015
Just over a week after a full-length solo piano recital at Carnegie Hall (including Beethoven, Chopin, Liszt, and Prokofiev), Evgeny Kissin shared a program with the Hover Chamber Choir, an Armenian ensemble, marking the 100th anniversary of the Armenian genocide that started April 24, 1915.
The first half was approximately an hour of unaccompanied choral music from the twenty-five singers under the direction of the Hover Choir’s founder Sona Hovhannisyan, and the second half was all-Chopin in the hands of Mr. Kissin, including the Fantasy in F minor, the Nocturne in F-sharp minor, Op. 48, the Polonaise in C minor, Op. 40 and the Scherzo in B-flat minor. It was a moving occasion, its somber premise illuminated by moments of hope and heroism.
Mr. Kissin is an artist of heroic stature himself, avoiding the gimmicks of so many colleagues, maintaining integrity and the highest standards, and embracing philanthropic pursuits. A giant in the piano world at age 43, he never rests on his laurels but constantly evolves and surprises. On this occasion Mr. Kissin’s choices of repertoire were full of gravitas, and his playing seemed colored by the solemnity of the occasion. The martial opening of the Fantasy in F minor was fittingly sober in matters of tone and tempo, and the same could be said of Chopin’s Nocturne in F-sharp minor and Polonaise in C minor, Op. 40, all with moments of ethereal beauty, but with the careful unfolding of a sage storyteller. There were musical revelations throughout and always a sound that projected singingly, even at pianissimo levels, to the farthest corners of the hall. Chopin’s Scherzo No. 2 in B-flat minor ended his half brilliantly calling for two encores.
One will not soon forget his second encore to this Chopin half-recital, a rendition of Chopin’s “Heroic” Polonaise (Op. 53) that made jaws drop. The speed with which he started the notorious left-hand octaves seemed almost foolhardy at first, but he kept them up with such turbo-charged power and precision that one could only admire. While I’ve always enjoyed Vladimir Horowitz’s more gradual buildup, it was hard to resist this sheer thrill.
Undoubtedly Mr. Kissin could have obliged his clamoring audience with a longer string of encores, as he usually does (one Carnegie performance eliciting twelve), but he showed deference to the solemnity of the occasion by limiting it to two; it was clear that he was not merely a “headliner” for this concert but an artist with a special empathy for the suffering of the Armenian people. His first encore was thus a haunting transcription by Georgy Saradjian of the song “Grounk” (or “Krunk” – “The Crane”) by composer, priest, and patriarch of Armenian music, Komitas Vartapet (1869-1935). Based on a poem by Hovhannes Toumanian (The Crane), this music expresses the desolation of those mourning the loss of their homes, friends, families, and cultural “nest” while the crane returns to his; it is thus a song of great symbolism to the Armenian Diaspora. The audience, including many Armenians, gave thunderous approval, as if a century’s worth of unheard pain were being released through the music.
For around a century, “Armenian Genocide” has met some resistance as a term to describe the brutal massacre by the Ottoman Empire of an estimated 1.5 million Armenians (between 1915 and 1923). The tiptoeing around it, the lumping of it with World War I, and the outright denial of it have taken the Armenian heartbreak to new lows, as have the displaced and ruined lives of victims and their descendants. The facts are stubborn, however, and the former Prime Minister of the Republic of Armenia, Tigran Sargsyan (currently Ambassador of Armenia to the US) was present to introduce the occasion as the anniversary of the “first modern genocide.”
Among the victims of the torment was the abovementioned composer Komitas himself (often referred to without “Vartapet” which was comparable to “Father”). Komitas survived the horrors of 1915 only to live his last twenty years a broken man. His is a gripping story, the telling of which might have deepened the listeners’ experience, but sadly there were no program notes about him – or about any of the Armenian composers presented. This was a woeful omission, especially considering that Armenia has suffered from loss of a voice for so long.
With the exception of the last choral piece Sweet Breeze – a highlight of the program with its wind-like effects– we heard the Komitas works just as he wrote them, a cappella (except for the conductors’ own additions of some bell-like sounds). The program included Folk songs and selections from the Armenian Divine Liturgy. The music, based on monody, was modal and melismatic, sensitively set, and sung with a balanced and luminous sound. In the interest of space, the list of songs will not be included here, but may be seen at the Carnegie Hall event page (Program listing). An hour was perhaps too heavy a dose of similarly textured music for the uninitiated – something to consider if the goal includes furthering Armenian music – but the concert certainly opened some musical doors.
Interspersed were more contemporary Armenian works including the wide-ranging Waterfall Music by Vache Sharafyan (b. 1966), the imaginative Three Portraits of Women (The Rainbow) by Tigran Mansurian (b. 1939), and a fanciful piece, The Little Prince and the Fox by Anna Azizyan.
Sadly, the only program notes given were about internationally renowned Polish composer Krzysztof Penderecki (b. 1933), whose “Psalm III dedicated to the Armenian Genocide” was presented in a World Premiere. Mr. Penderecki was expected to be present but could not attend. He missed a moving performance. His Psalm III is a stirring work, full of faith but also of anger, with the text opening, “Lord, how many are my foes!” The Hover Chamber Choir performed it with tremendous expressiveness.
Other works were an interesting free arrangement of “Es ist ein Ros entsprungen” (“Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming”) by Jan Sandström (b. 1954) and “Carol”(“Maiden in the mor lay”) by Benjamin Britten (1913-1976). They were beautiful and despite the lack of an explicit connection to Armenia, quite meaningful to this observance.
All in all, despite small issues about programming and the absence of notes, the evening succeeded in its goal of commemorating a grave event in history. Congratulations are in order for the large undertaking. One hopes that it served to further a renaissance of sorts, empowering Armenians to find an ever-greater voice.
