A Debut with Bach and Beethoven

One of the hallmarks of a successful musical performance is when, on top of the visceral excitement the music generates, an artist draws the audience into the emotional and spiritual world of the composers. Andras Schiff did this masterfully in his recent recital here, and I knew that Nelson Goerner, making his Vancouver debut last night, would have a, shall we say, a tough act to follow.

J. S. Bach’s Partita No. 6 in E Minor, BWV 830, has the largest canvas of the six, large in scope as well as in emotional range, and the most technically difficult. Goerner’s performance of this great work was certainly a pianistic tour de force, but unfortunately not more than that. In the opening Toccata, the pianist failed, to my ears, to fathom the profundity and the gravity of the music. It also lacked a certain feeling of spaciousness, and of musical tension. I believe that the artist could have made greater use of the brief moments of silence in between musical ideas, especially right before the arrival of the fugue (m. 26). In the great fugue, I do commend Goerner in the clarity of the voices and textures, but again, it was not a spiritual journey, such that with the return of the opening musical idea (m. 89), it did not evoke a sense of great emotional release.

I do not believe that the repeats in the dances should be observed just for the sake of observing them. Goerner observed every repeat in the dances, but played them exactly the same way as he did the first time.  I feel that repeats should be played only if the artist has something different to say about the music.

Goerner displayed an incredible deftness and lightness of touch in the Corrente as well as the rhythmically tricky Tempo de Gavotta, but it sounded more like, forgive me, Scarlatti rather than Bach. Even in the great Sarabande, it became like a series of beautiful notes, rather than a sense of time standing still. The artist very successfully navigated the incredible complexities of the fugue-like Gigue, and it was truly stunning piano playing. Mr. Goerner is a young man; he has all the time in the world to plunge the depths of Bach. To me, he is at the beginning of this incredible journey.

Of all the “great” composers, Felix Mendelssohn is a figure that sometimes puzzles me. The composer of the great Violin Concerto in E Minor, the Overture to A Midsummer Night’s Dream, the Piano Trio in D Minor, and the joyous Octet in E-flat Major, music that are, to me, divinely inspired, also wrote a lot of music that are merely effective. The Fantasy in F-sharp Minor, Op. 28, the so-called Scottish Sonata, is one such piece. To my ears, it is a piece, written by a great pianist, reveling in the act (and joy) of playing the piano. To that end, Goerner succeeded admirably, and the playing was one of great sweep and panache. Musically and pianistically, it was a more successful performance than one given by Murray Perahia years ago.

It is difficult to believe that we would be hearing Beethoven Hammerklavier twice in one season (Steven Osborne gave a wonderful performance of this work a few weeks ago). Goerner was a different pianist in the Beethoven, and it was a performance of total commitment, and of great beauty and depth. He understood and realized the construction and architecture of the 1^st movement, resulting in a performance of grandeur and excitement.

In the Scherzo, the pianist understood the unique humour in late Beethoven, the pregnant pauses, the Prestissimo scale-run at m. 112 and brief tremolo that follows (m. 113-114) were particularly effective as well as truly humourous. I was particularly moved by Goerner’s playing of the tremendous Adagio sostenuto, which was certain, as Beethoven instructed, Appassionato e con molto sentimento. Here, the artist succeeded in drawing us into the emotional core of the music. The final three-voice fugue was played with absolute confidence and conviction, and stunning trills! To me, the performance of this great work was masterful, and completely satisfactory.

After a well-deserved ovation, the Goerner gave us two items for “dessert”, a Ignacy Jan Paderewski’s rhythmically intriguing Nocturne, and Felix Blumenfeld’s (Vladimir Horowitz’s teacher) Etude for the Left Hand. The performance of the Blumenfeld was truly breathtaking. One would almost be tempted to say that Mr. Goerner has the greatest left-hand in the music world. It was an incredible feat of pianism.

We are truly fortunate to have the Vancouver Chopin Society as well as the Vancouver Recital Society to keep the solo recital alive in our community. We await the joys of further musical discoveries in the next few months and coming concert seasons.

Symphonic Masterpieces

With the ready availability of music today, it is easy to forget what a joy and privilege it is to attend a live musical performance, with great musicians playing great music, when all the elements came together for an exhilarating and uplifting artistic experience.

It was indeed such an evening in Vancouver this past Saturday, with the return of conductor Kazuyoshi Akiyama and pianist Ingrid Fliter, in a rich and varied programme of Berlioz’s Le corsaire overture, Mendelssohn’s Piano Concerto No. 1, Bartok’s Divertimento for Strings, and Richard Strauss’ great tone poem, Till Eulenspiegel’s Merry Pranks.

Le corsaire was one of Berlioz’s many “concert overtures”, in reality a precursor to the tone poems that Franz Liszt and Richard Strauss were to compose later. Less popular than the composer’s Le carnival romain and Béatrice et Bénédict (this one a “real” overture to an opera), but no less brilliant, the work amply demonstrates Berlioz’s mastery as an orchestrator. Akiyama handled the tricky opening with great aplomb, from the rapid exchange between the very exposed runs in the strings and rhythmically intricate woodwind figures, to the beautiful slow middle section, and to the energetic finale. As if to welcome back this beloved former music director, the orchestra responded with a performance filled with nuance and musicality.

Of Felix Mendelssohn’s two piano concerti, the first one is probably the more extroverted one. Of the last generation of pianists, it was probably most famously and often played by Rudolf Serkin, although many of the current generation of pianists have taken its youthful exuberance to heart. Ingrid Fliter is no stranger to Vancouver audiences, having appeared many times as a recitalist and once before (I think) with the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra. In the outer movements, Ms. Fliter once again demonstrated her considerable ability at the keyboard, and played the solo part with all the brilliance and glitter, but also lightness, that it demands. She played the slow movement, the emotional core of the work, with a kind of hushed eloquence as well as an incredible musicality. Once again, I am reminded of why she remains, for me, one of the most interesting of the very crowded field of young artists playing today.

Without the efforts of conductor Paul Sacher, who originally commissioned Bartok’s Divertimento for Strings, the musical world would have been deprived of some of the greatest orchestral works written by 20^th century composers. Unlike Bartok’s seminal work, the Music for Strings, Percussion and Celesta (also a Sacher commission), his Divertimento for Strings, which opens the second half of the concert, sounds almost light-hearted and uplifting. The strings of the Vancouver Symphony did themselves proud in this very difficult work, from the constantly shifting rhythms in the first and third movement, to the dark colours and restless mood of the middle movement. There was some wonderful solo playing by the section leaders of the string section.

When Akiyama was music director of the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra, Strauss’ Till Eulenspiegel was a work that he conducted often. Like Berlioz, Strauss’ evocation of the misadventures and eventual demise of this legendary figure, really shows his understanding and mastery of the art of orchestration. Like a master storyteller, Akiyama expertly guided the orchestra through Strauss’ thematic transformation of both the introductory theme and Till’s leitmotif, represented by the French horn – the technical difficulty of this French horn motif reminds us that Strauss’s father was one of the premier orchestral horn players in Europe. Unlike some conductors, Akiyama does not “milk” the music for all its worth, exaggerating the wittiness or the elements of gemülichkeit in the score, but letting the music breathe and unfold naturally. The message obviously got through, since I could hear members of the audience chuckling at Till’s many antics during the performance. At the end of the performance, the smiles on the faces of the orchestral players almost matched the evident delight of the audience.

Among the many congratulatory telegrams and messages read at the end of Maestro Akiyama’s farewell concert as music director of the Vancouver Symphony, the one I remember was written by pianist Claudio Arrau, who called Akiyama “one of the elect”, no small compliment coming from an artist who had played with some of the great conductors of the 20^th century.

Throughout the evening, I found myself being mesmerized by Mr. Akiyama’s expressive hands, with his every gesture guiding the musicians along, and shaping the musical phrases with great subtlety and souplesse. I imagine that no orchestral musician will have trouble understanding the intention and message of his baton.

I agree with Nietzsche’s dictum that “Without music, life would be a mistake.” Indeed, we must always be reminded that great music is a privilege, especially in our age when music can be had with the push of a button. I am grateful that Mr. Akiyama has maintained his association with Vancouver, and I hope that both he and Ms. Fliter will continue to grace our stages with their presence and talents. With musicians like them, we can be sure that the art of music will always be in good hands.