Symphony at the Chan

Pianist Eric Lu made his concerto debut with the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra and conductor Earl Lee this past Saturday. Lu, a laureate of the 2015 International Chopin Competition (at age18) and gold medalist of the 2018 Leeds International Piano Competition (at age 20), had already made a highly successful recital debut in Vancouver under the auspices of The Vancouver Chopin Society. So it was with eager anticipation that I attended the weekend’s concerto featuring Robert Schumann’s Piano Concerto in A minor. The venue was not the orchestra’s home in the Orpheum Theatre, but (thankfully) the Chan Centre for the Performing Arts.

 

From the pensive opening chords of the 1^st movement, and throughout the performance, I constantly thought how Lu’s playing harkens us back to pianists of the past – figures like Lipatti, Cortot, and Edwin Fischer – not that his playing resembles any of them stylistically, but in the individuality of his style and musicality of his playing as well as the sense that he was putting musical concerns far above the work’s formidable technical challenges. 

 

In the same aforementioned opening chords, he struck a perfect balance between the vertical and the horizontal, making each chord floats, but at the same time propelling the music forward. In the orchestral exposition, he managed to subsume the piano figuration within the orchestral texture. His tone was always beautiful, never forced, even in the more bravura passages. In the A-flat Major Andante espressivo section, when the piano plays with as well as “accompanies” the clarinet, Lu played this theme with melting tenderness that was palpably moving. In Schumann’s written-out cadenza, Lu played with a combination of musicality and bravura. 

 

The gracefully and intimately played Intermezzo served as the perfect bridge between the 1^st and 3^rd movements. In final movement, Lu really threw caution to the wind, and the result was a performance that was overwhelmingly joyful, even exultant. For such a young man to play with such depth of feeling as well as maturity that is far beyond his years, is truly a remarkable feat. 

 

Under Earl Lee, the orchestra sounded fabulous, with a warmth of sound that one does not always hear in the Orpheum. This is a notoriously difficult concerto to conduct, and the young conductor was at one with Lu from beginning to end.

 

After intermission, Earl Lee led the orchestra in Beethoven’s Symphony No. 6 in F Major, the composer’s paean to the glories of nature. It was a performance that was impeccably paced and played, with a cohesiveness and a uniformity in structure rather than a series of charming episodes.

 

I appreciated how Lee brought out the colours of the woodwinds throughout the work, not only in the solos but within the orchestral texture, somewhat like a meticulously tinged watercolour. I thought that Julia Lockhart’s bassoon playing was especially outstanding on Saturday evening. In the second movement, Lee managed to maintain the flow (pun intended) of the Szene am Bach, without getting bogged down by every detail of the melody; the oft-repeated main theme was also given an infinite variety of colours, and a feeling of renewal every time it returns. 

 

Lee took the Lustiges Zusammensein der Landleute at a perfectly energetic pace, and the liveliness of this country dance – with the horn player who kept coming in at the “wrong” place – was very much kept alive from start to finish. The transition from the third movement to the fourth and then the final movement was expertly handled indeed. 

 

In the Hirtengesang, there was a palpable sense of thanksgiving, of wonder, as well as a feeling of benediction. After the performance, Lee was all-too-ready to acknowledge the members of the orchestra for their outstanding contribution in the performance.

 

We have Earl Lee and Eric Lu to thank for this evening of beauty. 

 

Let’s hope these wonderful artists return to Vancouver soon and share their artistry with our audience.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Inner World of Eric Lu

 Eric Lu’s performance at the Vancouver Playhouse yesterday reminded me of what Leschetizky said to Artur Schnabel, “You will never be a pianist, you are a musician.” I would only amend that statement by saying that Lu is also an exceptional pianist, but an even finer musician.

 

The recital opened with Robert Schumann’s gem of a miniature, the Arabeske in C Major, Op. 18, a performance that betrayed the luminous sound Lu drew from the Steinway. The final section of the work, Zum Schluss (m. 209) was achingly beautiful.

 

I am grateful to Lu for playing, with great inspiration, Schumann’s relatively rarely performed Waldszenen, Op. 82. Once again, he drew us into the composer’s most intimate thoughts and emotions, at the same time highlighting the individual character of each piece. For me, the delicacy he brought to Einsame Blumen, as well as the almost psychedelic colours he painted in sound, the famous Vogel als Prophet, were particularly endearing. And how movingly he played the final Abschied, taking us through a wondrous sonic journey to the two soft final chords. 

 

The first half of the concert ended with a rousing but thoroughly musically satisfying reading of Brahms’s Theme und Variation, a transcription (written for Clara Schumann) of the movement from his String Sextet No. 1, Op. 18. Lu managed the no small feat of threading his way through Brahms’s texture with astounding clarity and beauty.

 

Lu began the second half of the concert with Schubert’s heavenly Impromptu in G-flat Major, Op. 90, No. 3, beguiling us again with the beauty of his sound, making the long melodic line float, and allowing us to hear the harmonic progression of the arpeggiated accompaniment. 

 

The young artist’s rendition of Chopin’s Sonata in B-flat minor, Op. 35 was truly overwhelming. He managed to highlight the absolute wildness of the opening theme, which makes the contrast with the lyrical second theme even more stark. Throughout the movement, Lu played the music in the manner of a titanic struggle. He played the opening repeated-note figure of the second with great weight, giving this opening a real sense of occasion and a feeling of substance. The waltz-like second subject once again reminded us of Lu’s gift for lyricism. In the funeral march, the gloom of the A section was, under Lu’s hands, not dispelled by even the incredible beauty of the D-flat Major section. Indeed, to my ears, he played this section not with a sense of consolation, but more with a feeling of shared grief. The petrifying final movement was indeed frightening. Two measures before the final outburst, Lu dramatically slowed the momentum of the music, giving it an almost unbearable tension, making the final B-flat minor chord all the more dramatic.

 

Lu’s single encore of Chopin’s Prelude in D-flat Major, Op. 28, No. 15, reminded me of pianist Byron Janis’ words about Chopin music, that it “pierces our ears and breaks our hearts.” From the lyrical opening, to the funereal middle section, and to the truncated return of the opening theme, Lu infused the music not only with beauty, but also with the logic of its arch-like structure. 

 

Hearing Lu’s playing yesterday, I had the feeling that he was allowing us into his very private world with his music making. I felt that I was eavesdropping on someone playing through an open window. Indeed, Lu’s music-making betrays a maturity and sensitivity well beyond his years. With his luminous playing at yesterday’s concert, I felt that we had in our midst, an old soul, one who illuminated the wonders and beauty of this timeless music that he shared with us. Eric Lu had indeed given us a precious gift with his playing – a window, a glimpse into his inner world. 

Virtual Recital - Eric Lu

I had been looking forward to Eric Lu’s recital in Vancouver, especially after hearing his stunning performance of Beethoven’s 4^thpiano concerto at the finals of the 2018 Leeds International Piano Competition, where he emerged as the gold medalist. Lu’s performance of that elusive concerto gives the impression of an old soul, in spite of his tender age. 

 

For this virtual recital, recorded after his recital here had to be cancelled because of the Corona virus, Lu’s main offering is Schubert’s Sonata in A major, D. 959, one of the many miraculous works written in the Annus mirabilis of the composer’s final year.

 

Lu’s luminous tone and beautiful touch at the piano are apparent from the outset of his performance. He wisely chooses not to over-dramatize the opening of the first movement – Schubert’s indication is only forte – but, like a good storyteller, allows the drama to develop on its own. Lu deftly prepares our ears for the emergence of the tranquil E major theme at m. 55, which he imbues with a palpable spiritual quality. There is another magical moment towards the end of the exposition (m. 121), where Lu gives us a true pianississimo. In the extended development, the pianist leads us on an exploration of the myriad of tone and sound colours, as well as all the harmonic changes, the shifts between light and darkness, laid down by Schubert. In contrast with the opening of the movement, the first chords of the recapitulation is imbued with a sense of majesty and drama. That said, Lu never loses sight of the intense lyricism that is the underlying thread of this sonata. In the final appearance of the opening theme, now to be played pianissimo, there is kind of a veiled quality in the sound. 

 

In the astounding second movement, Lu understands the madness that lies beneath the fragile beauty of the music, and the feeling that the music is just hanging on to the remnants of sanity by a thread. His handling of the buildup to the veritable storm of the middle section is quite masterful. With the C-sharp major theme at m. 148, Lu’s playing fills the music with an intensely reverential quality. 

 

The young musician plays the scherzo with palpable lightness, as well as with an impish quality. His sense of timing is impeccable. In the trio, Lu gives the music a great deal of breathing room. He is not a rigid-tempo man – more of a Furtwängler than a Toscanini. Lu plays the opening of the 4^th movement simply, with a feeling of complete contentment and happiness. He plays this music with a great deal of naturalness and masterful timing, allowing the surprises to unfold on their own, and acts as an expert guide taking us through Schubert’s ever-changing sound colours, as well as the myriad harmonic and melodic landscapes.

 

It is only at the conclusion of Lu’s performance that I realized that I have been living with this sonata a great deal lately, by way of Krystian Zimerman’s very beautifully played performance, and one of the most beautifully recorded album I had heard in a long time. Zimerman’s interpretation is that of a master musician, looking at the music at the height of his artistic powers and maturity. Lu’s view of this sonata is one of a young artist, albeit a supremely talented one, at the outset of his artistic journey. There is indeed a feeling of wonder and discovery with Lu’s playing. In time, his view of the music would change (I do not want to use the word depth here, because it would imply that only older artists can have “depth”, a oft-made statement that is both meaningless and unfair) and that would surely be something to look forward to.

 

In spite of, or perhaps because of its brevity, the challenge that lies within Chopin’s Prelude in E minor (Op. 28, No. 4) is to have this continual buildup of the music, from its very understated opening to its shattering climax. Lu acquits himself very well in this work indeed, and he beautifully shapes the ebb and flow of the melodic line, as well as Chopin’s subtle and continuous harmonic changes. In the Prelude in A-flat major (Op. 28, No. 17), a perfect foil to the intense tragedy of the E minor prelude, Lu plays with great depth of sound as well as beauty of this unique key colour. He plays the A-flat pedal note towards the end like distant tolling bells, and allows it to underscore the harmonic changes above.

 

I hope that Eric Lu returns to Vancouver with a live performance. This is clearly a young man that we need to keep our eyes on. I pray for continuing growth in his artistic journey and we, the listener, will be eagerly waiting for the next chapter.