2026 - Auspicious Beginnings

A Recital by Eric Lu, February 16^th

 

It has taken me many weeks to formulate my thoughts after Eric Lu’s recital at the Orpheum, part of his winner’s tour since receiving the gold medal at the 19^th International Chopin Competition in Warsaw.

 

In addition to his interpretation of the music of Chopin that has been universally acknowledged, Lu has also established himself as a very fine exponent of the music of Schubert. Hearing his playing of the first two Impromptus from Op. 142, I would say that he is already a very special Schubert interpreter, and belongs to the pantheon of names such as Brendel, Lupu, Kempff, and Schnabel (to name just a few.)

 

Some have said that Schubert composed like a sleepwalker. If that is the case, what beautiful dreams he must have had! In Lu’s playing of the Impromptu in F minor, Op. 142, No. 1, he perfectly captured the sprawling soundscape laid down by the composer, but did not fall into the trap of making it a meaningless meandering of successive musical ideas, instead, infusing the music with a sense of cohesion and unity. There were wonderful shifts in the sound colours, especially at the many major-minor shifts that is a hallmark of Schubert’s music. 

 

In the Impromptu in A-flat Major, Op. 142, No. 2, the chords in the opening and closing sections float beautifully; the music never became static. Lu moved the music along in a wonderful pace, and the transition into the flowing middle section was beautifully accomplished.

 

No doubt, many people in the audience came to hear Lu’s Chopin, and the young artist did not disappoint. Eric Lu boldly began this segment of his recital with the Polonaise in F-sharp minor, Op. 44, probably the one with the largest canvas as well as the most technically challenging. Lu gave a sweeping account of this great work, capturing perfectly the defiance and sadness inherent in the music. In the lyrical, mazurka-like, middle section, Lu revealed to us the inner beauty behind the notes. 

 

During the competition and at the recital, Lu gave arguably one of the finest interpretations of the Ballade in F minor, Op. 52. From the tentative, bell-like sound of the opening, to the fiercely dramatic, cataclysmic ending, he was in complete command of every aspect of the score, and highlighted the other-worldly beauty that is so inherent in this masterwork.

 

In the youthful Polonaise in B-flat Major, Op. 71, No. 2, Lu amply demonstrated that he could be as brilliant and virtuosic as the young firebreathers of the keyboard today. The performance underscores all the brilliance and glitter of this 1828 composition. In the (for me) death-haunted Nocturne in C-sharp minor, Op. 27, No. 1, Lu gave the feeling that the opening theme was floating on air, giving the music a crystalline sound, and captured the tension of the gradual metamorphosis into the highly dramatic middle section, before returning to the faux calmness of the opening theme.

 

In the third round of the Chopin Competition last October, I thought that Lu’s performance of the Sonata in B minor, Op. 58 alone, should have won him the gold medal. Many of the artists in the competition delivered technically perfect, even brilliant, renditions of this music, but only a few, if even that, so totally understood and captured every aspect of this late Chopin opus. 

 

There was organic unity in Lu’s interpretation of the sonata, not only in the large soundscape of the first movement, but throughout the work. In the first movement, the themes seamlessly fused one into another, rather than – as we so often hear – a mere succession of beautiful melodies. Lu’s performance of the scherzo movement was breathtaking. Indeed, I found myself holding my breath as he performed the music with an incredible agility and lightness, not to mention scintillating. And the tricky transition into the slow movement was impeccably achieved. In the largo movement, Lu brought out the inner glow and beauty of this gorgeous movement. In the final movement, Lu played the music with an almost reckless abandon, with nary a thought for the technical hurdles inherent in every page of the score. It was truly one of the great interpretations I have heard. 

 

Eric Lu’s single encore – no doubt the audience would have happily hear many more – was the Aria from Bach’s Goldberg Variations, performed for the capacity audience in the Orpheum like a hymn of gratitude and a benediction. It was the perfect ending to a beautiful afternoon.

 

There was and is no doubt in my mind that Eric Lu is a worthy recipient of the gold medal. Even with the incredibly high level of piano playing at the competition, he stood out with his artistry and the maturity of his performances. This recital in Vancouver – not surprisingly - more than confirmed my view.

 

 

 

Jun Märkl with the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra, March 6^th

 

It is always a treat to see Maestro Jun Märkl to Vancouver. Last evening, he led the orchestra in a diverse and varied programme of music by Takemitsu, Prokofiev and Brahms.

 

In Takemitsu’s Ceremonial – An Autumn Ode, with Naomi Sato playing the Shō, an ancient Japanese instrument, the soloist began and ended the work with extended solos, drawing the very attentive audience in to atmosphere and other-worldly sounds laid down by the composer. Märkl painted a beautiful soundscape that provided a perfect foil to the sounds of the soloist. 

 

Stefan Jackiw gave a technically assured and musically impeccable performance of Prokofiev’s Violin Concerto No. 2 in G minor, Op. 63. In the concerto, it was Märkl’s role as a collaborator that caught my ear. Not only did he “accompany” the soloist impeccably, but he brought out the brilliant orchestration and colours that were such a hallmark of Prokofiev’s music. In the surprisingly Spanish-sounding third movement – it must have been those castanets – he perfectly captured the satirical nature of the music.

 

I have heard this orchestra in many performances of Brahms Symphony No. 1 in C minor, Op. 68, but last night’s performance would remain in my mind for a long time. 

 

In the opening of the 1^st movement, Märkl and the orchestra, especially the strings, gave the music a sense of weight and substance in the sound, but at the same time capturing the composer’s marking of un poco sostenuto, and bringing out the colours of the woodwinds above the music. The conductor masterfully maneuvered the transition into the Allegro, which was played with a palpable sense of urgency. 

 

In the Andante sostenuto movement, I have rarely heard the oboe solo played with such deep feeling and tenderness. Märkl so beautifully maintained the flow of the music that it led naturally to the entry of the violin solo (letter E), gorgeously played by concertmaster Nicholas Wright. I also very much like the conductor’s pacing in the Un poco Allegretto a grazioso movement, as well as the transition into the B Major section at letter D. Throughout the movement, there were some impeccably beautiful playing by and interplay between the woodwinds. 

 

The beginning of the final movement began with a real sense of a tension-filled quietness, especially in the lower strings at the outset as well as in the pizzicato passage at m. 16. The pacing was so impeccable that the entry of the French horn solo at letter B really had a sense of occasion and, to me, a palpable sense of the sun breaking through the dark clouds. The build-up of tension was such that the entry of the famous theme (Allegro non troppo, ma con brio) at m. 61 almost came as a relief. Kudos to the orchestra for its wonderful and exciting playing throughout, but especially in the exciting final pages of the movement. 

 

This was a truly memorable performance of this very familiar work. Throughout the beautiful performance, Märkl seemed to be reminding us that even though the music was steeped in 19^th century romanticism, the roots of this score remains firmly in the 18^th. 

 

I was very happy to read that Maestro Märkl will be returning in the coming season, this time to conduct Stravinsky’s Petrushka. No doubt he will again bring many new insights and reveal to us the colours and tragic of this great score.

 

Welcome back to Vancouver, Jun Märkl!

A Weekend of Mozart

Friday, November 28^th

 

The Vancouver Symphony Orchestra invited some distinguished guests to for its concert this past Friday evening, and the results were outstanding.

 

The dynamic young conductor Joshua Weilerstein led the orchestra in the opening work, Adgilis Deda: Hymn for Orchestra by Samy Moussa. According to the composer, this was a piece inspired by a two-month stay in the Caucasus Mountain in Georgia. The brief orchestral work is a lyrical sonic tapestry that slowly unfolds over time. Quite often, the music felt like a film score – this is by no means a derogatory statement, but it merely describes the highly descriptive, evocative nature of the writing. Under this talented young guest conductor, the orchestra infused this work with great beauty of sound and depth of feeling. 

 

Pianist Zlata Chochieva is no stranger to Vancouver denizens, having already appeared in recital twice under the auspices of The Vancouver Chopin Society. For her debut with the orchestra, she performed Mozart’s Concerto in D minor, K. 466, a beautiful collaboration between pianist and orchestra. Chochieva brought out all the sturm und drang the work demands, but balanced it always with great beauty she drew from the instrument. Hers was and is not a prim and proper, Dresden China Mozart, but an interpretation that was filled with flesh and blood, with breathing room, and with flexibility of phrasing. There was also an element of freedom in her playing, as if she was not “performing”, but re-creating Mozart. In Busoni’s highly original cadenzas, effectively fusing different thematic elements from the movements, Chochieva let loose her considerable pianistic abilities and brought the drama of the music to an even more intense level. 

 

The soloist played but also interacted well with members of the orchestra, making it almost like a chamber music-like collaboration. And conductor Weilerstein listened well to his soloist, drawing lovely playing from the orchestra, especially in the writings for woodwinds that play such an important role in this concerto. 

 

Although entitled The Year 1905, presumably chronicling an important chapter of the Russian Revolution, Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 11 could just as well be heard as an impressive piece of orchestral writing, one that contains great emotional and dramatic weight. 

 

Weilerstein obviously felt strongly about this work, and drew truly impressive playing from every department in the orchestra, and every member of the orchestra truly rose to the challenges Shostakovich laid down in this work. From the bleak, wintry landscape evoked in the opening, to the searing anger of the second movement, and from the mournful third movement to the triumphant final movement, the young conductor paced the symphony effectively, and made the performance a truly captivating musical experience for the entire audience, who gave the orchestra the greatest gift it can give, complete silence and rapt attention. 

 

Kudos to the orchestra, the talented soloist and conductor for giving Vancouver audience this uplifting musical experience. 

 

 

Saturday, November 29^th

 

After the wonderful Mozart-Shostakovich performance last night, the only way to make the weekend better was to have more Mozart!

 

UBC Opera, under the leadership and guidance of Nancy Hermiston, is really rivalling many professional opera companies in the quality of its production and, in some cases, the excellence of its voices.

 

And so it was last night with the company’s presentation of Die Zauberflöte. They were fortunate to have had the services of the Vancouver Opera Orchestra, conducted by its music director, Jacques Lacombe. As usual, Nancy Hermiston directed a production that is in turn moving and truly humorous, and absolutely faithful to the composer’s intent – no Eurotrash here. Even in the “challenge” and very dry acoustics of the Old Auditorium, the music came through. The sets, with, I am certain, limited technology available to them in the aged hall, were beautiful and effective. 

 

Tenor Hexiang Wang stood out last night with the beauty of his voice as well as his stage presence. In the incredibly beautiful Dies Bildnis ist bezaubernd schön, I felt that he could have taken much more time with his delivery, and held back at certain spots. To my ears, the performance sounded slightly rushed. Naturally, these are things that will come with experience, and experience is what Nancy Hermiston is giving these young singers.

 

Sarah Richardson sang Pamina with a very beautiful, round tone and always a beautiful sound. I did feel that sometimes she “hits” a note slightly too hard, especially when she reached for the higher notes. 

 

Neil Hong had great stage presence and really brought the role of Papageno to life. Papageno really has all the best “tunes” in the opera, and Hong sang them with relish and a palpable sense of joy. 

 

Jiru Wu played the part of Sarastro with great dignity and gravitas. I did feel that his young voice did not yet have the resonance and projection needed for his arias. This was most apparent in the supremely challenging In diesen heil’gen Hallen, when his voice sounded thin, and did not match the persona he was portraying. I imagine this would have been a most difficult role to cast among the young singers.

Olivia Howe was most impressive as the Queen of the Night. She sang her two great arias with great confidence and assurance, and commanded considerable stage presence, remarkable for such a young artist.

 

Even the other, less prominent part, were sung with great excellence. The three ladies, as well as the three spirits (normally sung by boy sopranos, but was performed with female voices in this production) were beautifully sung, individually as well as in terms of ensemble. Kaitlyn Tse, even with her brief appearance, played the role of Papagena to a hilt, and brought much laughter from the audience. She has come a long way since I heard her last year as soloist in a Mozart Mass, both in terms of her vocal quality and projection. 

 

Even though this was, supposedly, a “student” production, it has nothing to apologize for, and Hermiston and her ensemble should feel very proud of themselves for so successfully mounting this incredible stage work. 

 

On a personal note, within minutes of the overture, I had tears in my eyes, moved by the sheer genius of Mozart and the incredible beauty of the music. In my mind, these young artists were successful in elevating our lives and making our sometimes-confusing world a slightly better place, even if it were only for a few hours.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Worthy Winner

It seems that the dust is finally starting to settle after the announcement of the results of the 19^th International Chopin Competition. Being in the audience for many of the sessions of the competition has always been a great musical experience. That said, observing the competition and its aftermath has reminded me of the frailties of human nature, as well as the reality of the music “business” – oh, what a hated word to use in association with music!

 

First of all, I would say right now that I am overjoyed that Eric Lu received the gold medal. 

 

I arrived in Warsaw before Stage 3 of the competition, and so I heard Lu’s recital, which was ravishing from beginning to end. From the gently swaying waves of the Barcarolle in F-sharp Major, Op. 60, to the epic proportions of the Sonata in B minor, Op. 58, Lu played not as one who is trying to impress, but like a true artist, looking deep inside the music to reveal all its beauty and emotions. In the Sonata in B minor, the transition from one section to another, and from one movement to the next, was so perfectly gauged under Lu’s hands.

 

In the past, there have been Chopin Competition winners who have been incredible technicians, or colourful showmen, but Eric Lu is not one of them – this is not to say that he does not possess a stupendous technique, which he does – he does not set out to wow the audience (or the jurors) with the brilliance of his great technique, but invites us to journey with him into the core of the music and reveals to us its beauty.

 

That said, when the music requires brilliance or showmanship, as in his performance of the Polonaise in B-flat Major, Op. 71, No. 2, Lu was and can be as impressive as any 16-year-old whippersnapper. 

 

And Eric Lu is now the second person to win the gold medal of the Chopin Competition playing the composers Concerto No. 2 in F minor, Op. 21, the first, coincidentally being Lu’s teacher Dang Thai Son. Lu’s performance of the concerto, both during the final round as well as at the winners’ concert, was beauty personified, from beginning to end. 

 

One highlight for me was the encore he performed at the end of the winners’ concert, a heartbreaking, achingly beautiful performance of the Waltz in C-sharp minor, Op. 64, No. 2. Lu’s playing of this masterwork of Chopin has been haunting my memory since then. 

 

What shocked and saddened me has been the cruel and malicious remarks “music lovers” have been writing on the internet. Perhaps the complete anonymity afforded by social media seemed to have remove any consideration of remaining within the bounds of good taste, charity, decency or just simple courtesy. 

 

Any pianist who qualifies for this prestigious competition is already a highly accomplished musician that is worthy of hearing. Needless to say, we all have artists whose interpretations we prefer over another. What is sorely lacking on social media sites is respect for the artist as human beings with feelings. I cannot help but be reminded of Glenn Gould’s scathing statement of the “gladiatorial aspect” of the concert hell. If we like someone, we cheer him or her on, and if we don’t, we express our disapproval just as vehemently. Listening to a musical performance, at least on line, has certainly become a blood sport, certainly in this latest edition of the Chopin Competition.

 

Eric Lu is well deserving of the gold medal of this edition of the Chopin Competition. He will never be a musician who would create funny videos on the internet, or create social media content to increase his or her profile. What he will offer us, time and again, are performances that touches the soul and move our hearts. 

 

Let us please all allow Eric to be the musician and artist he deserves to be.

 

 

 

 

 

A Very Welcomed Return

What a stupendous performance it was!

 

Pianist Sorita Kyohei made a welcomed return to Vancouver, and played to a capacity audience at the Vancouver Playhouse this past Sunday.

 

The concert began on an intimate note, with Es ist ein ros’entsprugen, one of Brahms’ 11 Chorale Preludes, Op. 122, No. 8. The work is in the same sound world as all those wonderful piano pieces, from Op. 116 to 119 that Brahms wrote at the end of his life. With the first notes, Sorita drew us into this innigkeit sound world that is so evocative of the late Brahms idiom, giving the music its own truly beautiful “fifty shades of grey”.

 

From the very private sound world of late Brahms, Sorita then presented us with the composer’s Piano Sonata No. 3 in F minor, Op. 5, the last and arguably most popular of his monumental three sonatas. The artist identified completely with every aspect of Brahms’ enormous canvas, giving us playing of a truly grand scale, with a big, rich sound, and capturing the sweep and drama of this incredible work. 

 

In the second movement, inspired by the passionate lines of Otto Inkermann, or Sternau’s poem, Sorita’s playing brought out all the expressive beauties of the main theme, and he endowed the poco più lento (m. 37) section of the movement with special warmth and depth. The third movement, with his sweeping gestures and passionate outbursts, almost foreshadows the two Op. 79 Rhapsodies that would come from the composer’s pen later, was also perfectly captured by the pianist yesterday. Sorita’s pacing of the relatively brief fourth movement, indeed making the music here a perfect intermezzo between the two outer movements. He was in complete command of every musical as well as the inconsiderable technical demands of the final movement, with playing that captured our attention until the triumphant final chords, leaving the audience exhilarated but the piano limp, with much work for the piano technician to do during intermission. 

 

In September, Charles Richard-Hamelin gave a very fine performance of Chopin’s Four Scherzi. The truly incredible thing about great music is that another performer can come along and give us an entirely different and fresh interpretation of the exact same notes on the page, charging the music with new meaning. And that was exactly what transpired with Sorita’s performance. In his performance of these four towering scherzi, there was, from beginning to end, a sense of fantasy, of spontaneity, and a feeling that he was almost recreating the music in front of us, rather than merely presenting a performance he had prepared.

In the Scherzo in B minor, Op. 20, Sorita highlighted what Horowitz referred to as the demonic and angelic elements of the work. The outer sections were as dark, angry and brooding as the music demands, and in the middle section, the artist lavished upon the music all the tenderness and innocence of Lulajże, Jezuniu, or Sleep, Little Jesus, the Polish Christmas carol from which the melody was taken.

 

Under Sorita’s hands, I was reminded of how bold and original the oft-played Scherzo in B-flat minor, Op. 31 sounded. The beautiful melody, marked con anima, that first appeared in m. 65, was indeed filled with spirit. The more subdued A Major section was charged with meaning, and the many pregnant pauses filled with tension. The pacing throughout this work was impeccable. 

 

The pianist’s performance of the Scherzo in C-sharp minor, Op. 39, beautifully contrasted the light and darkness inherent throughout the music. I have rarely heard the cascading downward flutter of notes that appear so often sound so glittering and light, almost like a sprinkling of fresh powder snow. Sorita’s performance of the fiery coda took my breath away. 

 

Of the four scherzi, the Scherzo in E Major, Op. 54, is probably the only one that could aptly be thought of as a scherzo. Sorita’s performance of this, arguably the most technically and musically demanding, as well as the largest in scale, of the four, with nary a thought for its many hurdles. It was a towering performance that took the audience through the rapidly and frequently changing moods of the music. 

 

The cheering audience brought Sorita back to the stage for two encores. I was tremendously moved by his performance of Chopin’s Polonaise in A-flat Major, Op. 53, for the absolute “Polishness” of his playing. It was truly a performance that highlights not for its virtuosity, but one that truly embodies the heroism and pride of the Polish spirit. For his second encore, he gave a meltingly beautiful performance of Schumann-Liszt’s Widmung, the composer’s great love song for Clara. It was a performance filled with tenderness, passionate and ardour, a performance that touches the deepest recesses of the heart.

 

It has been two years since Sorita performed in Vancouver, and it was obviously that his art has deepened and matured. We must continue to keep our eyes and (especially) ears on this, probably one of today’s most original young musicians, an artist that truly has a unique voice of his own that needs to be heard by many.

 

 

Charles Richard-Hamelin - Échos

It is difficult to believe that it has been almost ten years ago that Canadian pianist Charles Richard-Hamelin triumphed at the 2015 International Chopin Competition in Warsaw, bringing home the silver medal as well as the prize for best performance of a sonata. I still remember clearly his Vancouver debut shortly after returning home from the competition, and his magnificent performance of Chopin’s Piano Sonata No. 3 in B minor.

 

Based on his recent recital in Vancouver, playing a programme of music by Debussy, Ravel, Poulenc and Chopin, it is hard to fathom why this artist has not become a household name in music circles. From his first performance in Vancouver to this latest recital, it is evident that he has grown as both an artist and a musician. 

 

In addition to maintaining a busy schedule of performances, Charles has also been giving us a considerable discography of fine recordings, solo performances as well as recordings of chamber music and concertos. His latest recording on Analekta, entitled Échos, showcases both rarely performed music by Granados, Albéniz, and Chopin – yes, there are pieces by Chopin that are not often played – as well as a generous selection of Chopin’s very familiar waltzes. 

 

When I was a teenager, I had laboured under the illusion that Enrique Granados’ Valses Poéticos, Op. 43, as guitar pieces – so well did they sound on that instrument - and it was only much later that I discovered them as originally written for piano. 

 

Charles Richard-Hamelin’s inspired and beguiling performance of this rarely performed work – so highly reminiscent of Robert Schumann’s Papillons, Op. 2 – brings out all the charm the music calls for. The engineers faithfully captured the beautiful tone he produces on the piano, and his timing and pacing are impeccable. 

 

Hamelin’s performances of Chopin’s Allegro de concert and Granados’ Allegro de concierto, both coincidentally (or not?) catalogued as Op. 46, highlight all the brilliance and not inconsiderable virtuosity inherent in the music. He did not fall into the trap of making these sound like a mere technical showcase, but imbued the music with stylistically impeccable playing.

 

In La Vega, Charles Richard-Hamelin captured the Spanish flavour inherent in the music, and had a complete grasp of every aspect of the soundscape of this large canvas by Albéniz, as well as an absolute command of an infinite number of colours and shadings.

 

The recording begins with a set of waltzes and ends with a selection of waltzes by Chopin, and it will be with Chopin that most fans of this pianist would pay special attention to. The impression I had after hearing these performances of Chopin’s waltzes was that Hamelin is one of those rare species among pianists - a born Chopin player. He infused the Waltz in E minor, Op. posth., so often treated as a race against time by so many, with impeccable pacing, a stylishness and thoughtfulness that one rarely hears in this work. He perfectly captured the deep sadness in the Waltz in F minor, Op. 70, No. 2, as well as in the masterful Waltz in A minor, Op. 34, No. 2. There was also masterful and stylish playing of the three great waltzes of Op. 64, especially the Waltz in C-sharp minor, Op. 64, No. 2, arguably one of the composer’s greatest creations. The recording ends with the brilliant Waltz in A-flat Major, Op. 42, where he perfectly grasped the rhythmic intricacies of this “Grande Valse”, and dashed it off with a rousing virtuosity, and nary a thought for its technical hurdles. 

 

On top of all that, there is now a simplicity, a directness, in his approach to music, allowing the music to breathe, and to speak for itself.

 

Recorded in the beautiful Koerner Hall in Toronto, the engineers accurately captured the beautiful sonorities produced by this young artist. This is a thoroughly enjoyable recording from first note to last, both in its thoughtful programming and in Hamelin beautiful playing. 

 

My advice to anyone who reads this – run out and purchase this album. I myself will be returning to this recording very often indeed.

An Intergenerational Concert

One of my most treasured recordings is the DG album by Dang Thai Son, released after his winning the 10^thInternational Chopin Competition in Warsaw. That recorded performance shows an artist who is not concerned with the pyrotechnics of piano playing, or doing something different just for the sake of being different, but rather takes pain to bring out the beauty and essence of the music at its purest.

 

Those early impressions of this artist did not change upon hearing his performance last Sunday. But more about that later. Mr. Dang has also been actively involved with teaching, and at Sunday’s concert, he very graciously shared the stage with three young pianists he has been mentoring. Having two generations of artist in the same concert, not to mention three very different young musicians, made for very interesting comparison.

 

J. J. Jun Li Bui opened the recital with two contrasting works by Ravel – Pavane pour une infante défunte and the solo piano version of La Valse. Mr. Bui has matured a great deal as a musician since his appearance at the 18^thInternational Chopin Competition in Warsaw, and his playing showed an identification with the style as well as a stunning pianism. I would perhaps wish for greater splashes of colours in La Valse, but this was certainly an impressive performance by someone so young. I also liked his pacing of the tricky Pavane.

 

No less impressive was Sophia Liu’s performance of Chopin’s Variations on “Là ci darem la mano”, Op. 2, the work that caught the eyes and ears of Robert Schumann, who wrote the now famous line, “Hats off, gentlemen, a genius!”. Sunday’s performance certainly showcased the almost unlimited technical ability of this 16-year-old pianist, as well as an amazing command of piano sonorities. In time, she will perhaps add a greater dose of impishness, even cheekiness, in this lighthearted early work by Chopin, no doubt tailored to the young composer’s own pianistic abilities. Ms. Liu has already been snapped up by one of the world’s top artist management agencies, and the sky really is the limit for this young musician.

 

It took some courage for Kai-Min Chang to program Brahms’ very introspective, intimate, and exceedingly difficult Vier Klavierstücke, Op. 119. No doubt Mr. Chang is a talented pianist and serious artist, and the performance was technically impregnable, but somehow Sunday’s performance was slightly wanting in a richness of sound and a flexibility that the pieces call for, especially in the many subtle tempo shifts. I have to confess that this was not how I hear this music. I would very much like to hear this young musician again in other repertoire, to have a more thorough picture of his musical abilities. 

 

Dang Thai Son finally took to the stage after intermission in a recital of works by Chopin. Some of the works Mr. Dang programmed – the two early Nocturnes as well as a selection of Waltzes – are within the technical reach of an average student, one may say.  But what he did with these supposedly “easy” pieces was what separates the artist from the student. Every piece was played with taste, with style, as well as a brimming musicality that betrayed the work of a master pianist and musician. 

 

In 1980 Warsaw, Mr. Dang’s performance of the Barcarolle was the highlight of the competition, and his performance last Sunday was for me the highlight of that afternoon. It was playing that showed a complete identification of the style of this music, and every note filled with meaning. Even the transitional passages had a logic and beauty, as well as fitting into the larger scheme of the composition. On top of all that, it was a performance that truly moved. The final work of the afternoon, the Scherzo in B-flat minor, Op. 31, was also given a performance that was charged with meaning, and the many silences were filled with palpable tension. 

 

Of course there was a well-deserved ovation for Mr. Dang, and of course he graciously granted us an encore – Debussy’s Rêverie. He has always been a wonderful interpreter of French music, and this was playing that exhibited a stunning range of sonorities, even within a relatively narrow dynamic range, as well as one that was overflowing with palpable beauty. 

 

Dang Thai Son brought back to the stage the three young artists, who joined him in a romp through Albert Lavignac’s Galop-marche. It was quite a sight to see four artists sharing the 88 keys of the piano, sitting on three piano benches, and obviously having a ball. I am certain the enjoyment and pleasure felt by the audience matched that of the artists. 

 

It is truly a mark of a great teacher not only to impart knowledge and share his experience, but also to give worthy students the opportunity to shine. Not many teachers would be willing to share the spotlight with students, and that is perhaps what makes Mr. Dang such a beloved teacher and mentor, from every young pianist I have spoken with. It was truly touching to see the obvious rapport between Dang Thai Son and the young artists. 

 

Each of the three young artists who performed last Sunday has their individual strengths. It would be fascinating to watch the progress of these young performers, as well as the musical paths they will take. I wish them Godspeed in their musical journeys, and that they will have the courage to take the “road less travelled”.

 

 

 

 

Mozart Lite?

It is difficult to believe that Mozart’s The Magic Flute is the work of a dying man. 

 

This beloved, optimistic, life-affirming opera, one that can be, and is, enjoyed by young and old, by opera neophytes as well as the most sophisticated intellectual. Goethe was apparently so taken by the opera that he began to work on a sequel, one that remained a fragment, partly because no composer wanted to risk comparison with Mozart. I know of no more insightful and multi-faceted discussion of this work of wonder than in Father M. Owen Lee’s essay “The Music of Intuitive Angels”, contained in his book A Season of Opera From Orpheus to Ariadne (University of Toronto Press, 1998), where he discussed the many different ways to view this – in Father Lee’s words – prismatic work, from masonic allegory to a retelling of classical myth, to even Jungian approach where characters in the opera are seen as archetypes. 

 

None of those considerations appear to be in the “concept” of directors Paul Barritt, Suzanne Andrade (of the British theatre group 1927) and Barry Kosky, who sought to transform Seattle Opera’s production of the opera into a live-action, and action-packed, cartoon, and keeping everything on a most superficial level, seeking only to entertain. And entertain it did, because the packed audience last Sunday roared and cheered following the performance. 

 

The “set” consisted only of a large white background, with various revolving doors where characters emerge and disappear. All the visual effects were supplied cleverly, even brilliantly, by computer projections. For me, such projected effects that worked so well for the company’s last production of the relatively static, Tristan und Isolde, took away much of – and perhaps even prevented such attempts to view the piece - the deeper meaning inherent in the Mozart’s score. 

 

The spoken Germany dialogue was removed entirely, thereby removing a major element of the singspielelement of the work. “Dialogue” and background description were projected onto the background. Apparently, the producers wanted to simulate the feeling of watching a silent film, where much of the emotions were mimed. Even as a non-German speaker, eliminating this important dramatic element from the opera made the entire production somewhat two-dimensional – again, perhaps this was also intentional. I was reminded of the fact that when silent films gradually gave way to “talkies”, many former superstars lost their careers overnight, simply because they were not able to “act” with their voices. I do feel that the spoken dialogue is an integral of this drama, and to eliminate it would be like ridding it of one crucial element of the art work.

 

Projecting the dialogue also made it easier to sidestep the more controversial, even seemingly offensive, dialogue. Monostatos’ line (indeed difficult to hear in our age), “Yet is all love’s joy denied me, for my black and ugly face” was changed to “Perhaps because I am ugly”. Perhaps another nod to silent films was the portrayal of Monostatos as a decidedly pale faced, Nosferatu-looking character. Once again, this begs the question of whether we remove, or sanitize, art that offend the sensibility of our age?

 

But what of the music?

 

To my ears, the musical aspect of Mozart’s score was indeed well done. Victor Ryan Robertson’s Tamino seemed to lack projection at the beginning of the afternoon, but it much improved as the performance continued, especially in the second act. Camille Ortiz sang Pamina with a purity and beauty in her voice, as well as an obvious affinity to Mozart’s style. Sharleen Joynt’s Queen of the Night was stunning, and her technically impregnable and dramatic searing singing of Der Hölle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen took my breath away. Bass In Sung Sim sang Sarastro with great beauty of sound, perhaps a little lacking in richness, which somewhat undermines the character’s authority. Naturally, Pagageno invariably steals the show in any production, and Rodion Pogossov did not disappoint dramatically or musically. The three ladies of Ariana Wehr, Ibidunni Ojikutu, and Laurel Semerdjian, as well as the trio of genies of boys and girls (as opposed to the “three boys” indicated by the composer) of Sanne Christine Smith, Grace Elaine Franck-Smith, and Anthony E. Kim, acquit themselves more than admirably.

 

Conductor Christine Brandes conducted, paced and shaped Mozart’s miraculous score beautifully, and members of the Seattle Symphony Orchestra played with feeling as well as beauty of sound, especially by the woodwinds.

 

No doubt, a great success for Seattle Opera both in terms of box office and audience response. And in the end, it was Mozart’s music that triumphed. Yet, with so many of the elements of the score removed, the dramatic impact of the opera was, for me, somewhat lessened, even in the usually cathartic moment following Pamina and Tamino’s successful passage through the ordeals of fire and water. For me, there was something missing from the overall impact of the drama.

 

How much are we supposed to tamper with the indications on the composer’s score? Considering the radical interpretations or reimaging of operas, it seems our “tolerance” for what used to be considered radical ideas has markedly shifted. 

 

Certainly, Mozart’s music cannot be destroyed, regardless of how much a director departs from the score. 

 

Perhaps this is a concept of the opera for the 21^st century, and we must not forget that the opera was written not for Vienna’s most prestigious opera house, but a people’s theatre beyond city limit, as entertainment. 

 

One question that went through my mind after Sunday’s production was – what would Mozart say?