Canadian Debut - Cho Seong-Jin

Pianist Cho Seong-Jin made his Canadian recital debut in Vancouver yesterday afternoon, and gave one of the year’s most satisfying concerts.

Obviously not one to shirk from a challenge, Cho set a high bar for himself by presenting a programme that is daunting in its musical and pianistic challenges. The end result was a sense of complete musical satisfaction.

Today one rarely hears Beethoven’s popular Sonata in C minor, Op. 13 (Pathétique), except in performances of the complete sonata cycle. Perhaps because of its popularity, it makes it especially difficult for a young artist to make an impression with this work, particularly as an opening piece. In the solemn introduction, Cho makes the many portentous silences charged with meaning. I did like the sound of the dotted rhythmic chords rubbing against each other like tectonic plates, adding to the tension of the music. That said, Cho does not overplay the feeling of pathos that is so often overdone with this work. This is especially apparent in the Allegro di molto e con brio section of the first movement as well as in the third movement. The artist seems to be reminding us that, forward-looking as it is, this is still a work very much steeped in the 18^th century sound world. Under the hands of this talented pianist, all those explosive accents and sudden shifts of moods can still startle us. In the coda, I appreciate the fact that Cho did not start the crescendo too early, but exactly where Beethoven intended, at m. 303. In the heavenly Adagio cantabile, music so popular that we can all too easily take it for granted, Cho reminds us what a sublime and profound movement this is. It is the sign of a true artist that he allows the beauty of the music to unfold naturally. At mm. 19 to 22, Cho makes the left hand chords float while the right hand melody unfolds. And the brief coda was played simply and directly, with just the right hint of regret.

We have had many wonderful performances of Beethoven’s Sonata in E major, Op. 109 in the last couple of seasons, including a memorable one by Andras Schiff in Seattle, as an encore to his performance of Bach’s Goldberg Variations. Cho’s performance of this late Beethoven masterwork is convincing, and can, to my mind, stand alongside any other interpretation I can remember. In the first movement, Cho deftly handled the many sudden shifts between the rippling figures in the Vivace, ma non troppo and the more rhapsodic Adagio espressivo. Under Cho’s hands, the music speaks to us, reminding me of Goethe’s saying that, “Music begins where words end.”

In the energetic and technically challenging Prestissimo movement, Cho was right on top of every challenge Beethoven presents. In the brief dialogue between the two hands, he observed Beethoven’s marking – un poco espressivo – to the letter, with poco being the operative word. In spite of its relative brevity, the third movement reminds me, structurally as well as the way some of the variations are written, of Bach’s Goldberg Variations. As well, in Variation 2, Beethoven is, to me, almost foreshadowing what Anton Webern does in his Variations, Op. 27. The impression I got from Cho’s interpretation of this incredible movement is one of completeness, and of an organic unity from first note to last. His playing of the technically daunting Variation 3 as well as Variation 6 was nothing short of breathtaking. At the arrival of the fortissimo at m. 109 (Variation 4) – for me the emotional climax of the movement – Cho sounded positively exultant. I also appreciate his pacing in preparing us for the return of the theme at the end. It was a sign of the high level of music making that the first half felt all too brief, even with the inclusion of two such monumental (in scope if not in length) works.

Cho’s playing of Debussy’s charming La plus que lente was just that – utterly charming. He injected just the right degree of schmaltz into this music, and did not make it more than what the composer intended it to be – and this is not meant as a criticism in any way, shape or form - a little piece of divertissement. The pianist was obviously at home with this idiom, as well as in producing exactly the right sound for the music.

Incredible as it may seem, Debussy originally intended for L’Isle joyeuse to be a part of the Suite Bergamasque. I guess the composer must have later realized that the work should have a life of its own. This, one of the composer’s most large scale works, has been associated with Debussy’s “flight” with Emma Bardac to the Isle of Jersey, thus its title, even though pianist Ricardo Viñes recorded in his diary of the composer performing this work as early as June 13^th, 1903.

The young pianist’s interpretation of L’Isle joyeuse was stunning, blistering, and above all, moving, and was perhaps the highlight of the afternoon. This is saying a lot, considering the incredibly high level of music making yesterday. To say that the performance was technically impregnable would not do it justice. Under Cho’s hands, Debussy’s notes ceased to be notes, but sound colours. It was a performance that went far beyond eliciting merely a visceral excitement. In fact, Cho’s playing was so beautiful and rapturous that I find my eyes misting with tears of joy at the end of the all-too-brief experience.

I had to admire the pianist’s courage in following Debussy’s towering pianistic challenge with the four Ballades of Chopin. I know that Cho has been living with these pieces for the past years, in concert as well as in recording it for his successful debut studio recording for Deutsche Grammaphon. It was obvious from the first note of the Ballade in G minor, Op. 23 that his conception of these works have ripened and matured. In each of the Ballades, there was an epic arch from the first note to last. I believe that this is only possible when an artist has lived with and thought about these pieces for a long time. I didn’t think that this familiar G minor Ballade could sound fresh and beautiful, but it did. Indeed, There are pianists who play Chopin, and then there are Chopin players. Cho obviously belongs to the much smaller second group of Chopin players. He did not fall into the trap of making each section of the work a disparate episode, but gave the entire work a unified logic.

In listening to his recording of the Ballade in F major, Op. 38, I had admired the way Cho makes the chords of the Andantino float. In his performance yesterday, there was even more of a dramatic contrast to the aforementioned Andantino and the fiery Presto con fuoco sections. In addition, Cho’s handling of the frighteningly difficult coda (Agitato) was so assured and secured that it truly beggars the imagination.

The pianist’s interpretation of the Ballade in A-flat major, Op. 47 was one of great beauty of sound and of gossamer lightness. As in the previous two works, Cho made one section of the music flow naturally into the next, thus injecting it with a sense of totality. To me, Cho Seong-Jin and Charles Richard Hamelin, who played the same work in his Vancouver recital last year, each brought their own individual stamp on this marvelous work, and I would not want to have to choose between the two.

Cho Seong-Jin’s performance of the Ballade in F minor, Op. 52 is one of a master storyteller. Throughout the score, Chopin makes numerous markings of in tempo, even at the very outset of the work, suggesting probably the importance of tempo in this piece. To my ears, the tempo set by Cho is very natural and logical, not rushing the music along, but also keeping the flow from one episode to the next. In m. 202, I agree with Cho’s decision not to lengthen the last of the three chords before the fermata, something that not a few pianists tend to do.

This wonderful artist has given Vancouver a generous programme, and he could be forgiven for calling it a day at the end of the Chopin, but after the urging of an unusually enthusiastic audience, with its many roars of approval, Cho ended his afternoon at the Chan Centre for the Performing Arts with a subtle and gorgeous performance of Debussy’s Clair de Lune, a perfect dessert after the substantial works of the recital.

There are two kinds of musical performances, one that impresses and one that moves.  Cho Seong-Jin’s performance was one of the much more rare performance that moves, that touches us in the deepest recesses of our souls. It was also a performance of completeness, of artistry, of musicality and a palpable love of the music he plays. From yesterday’s performance, it would appear that the sky is the limit for Cho. If he continues to play the way he did yesterday, success – in the worldly sense of the word – would not be beyond his reach. But if he continues to develop as an artist and a musician, it seems to me that he might be one of the rare artists that would be remembered in the annals of music beyond his own time.

And that is my fondest wish for Cho Seong-Jin.

Notable New Recordings

In spite of the great proliferation of music competitions in the last several decades, the International Chopin Competition in Warsaw continues to occupy a special place in the music world, not only for its high standards, but also for how it has launched the careers of some of today’s major artists.

This season, Vancouver audiences have the unique opportunity to enjoy the artistry of two laureates from that very competition - Rafał Blechacz, gold medalist of the 2005 competition, and Cho Seong-Jin, freshly minted gold medalist of the 2015 edition.

Coincidentally, both artists have released new album on the prestigious Deutsche Grammaphon label this year, with vastly different repertoire, which makes for very interesting listening experiences.

Since winning the sought-after prize in Warsaw, Blechacz has maintained a relatively low profile, playing concerts but constantly exploring repertoire other than works of Chopin. Blechacz seems to have developed a reputation for being a thinking man’s pianist, always giving his audience thoughtful interpretations without falling into the trap of pedantry. The present album was recorded after a lengthy sabbatical where he completed his doctorate in philosophy with emphasis in aesthetics and the philosophy of music.

It is still too early to tell how the musical life of Cho Seong-Jin will turn out. So far, the signs are promising. In an interview, Cho said that he is “not interested in fame”, but rather to become an artist and to explore music. In spite of his near rock star status in his native South Korea, he seems to have remained quite grounded, focusing only on his music making. He has not endorsed any high-end wristwatches, Swedish stereo systems, or high fashion. And in spite of his young age, he is already in possession of a large repertoire as well as an acute musical sensibility.

Each of the two artists’ albums focuses on a single composer. Blechacz focuses on the music of J. S. Bach, and Cho, not surprisingly, gives us an entire album of Chopin. In his first studio album, Cho plays the composer’s Piano Concerto No. 1 in E minor, Op. 11 as well as the four Ballades. In the concerto, Cho appears not to try to “milk” the beauty of the many beautiful melodies, but allows the music to speak for itself. In the concerto, he seems to understate many of the dramatic possibilities, especially in the outer movements. Which is not to say that there aren’t exciting moments. The cross hand passages leading up to the end of the first movement is positively exhilarating. And in the third movement, Cho really captures the character of the Krakowiak, and the music really dances and sparks under his fingers. In the gorgeous slow movement, Cho seems to be looking for the inner beauties within the score, and he brings out all the incredibly ravishing character of the music, directly and simply.

Conductor Gianandrea Noseda and the London Symphony Orchestra do more than yeoman’s work in the concerto. Noseda lavishes much attention to the details within the orchestral tuttis, and very sensitively supports Cho in the many solo passages. Conductors like Noseda, and Carlo Maria Giulini in his recordings of the Chopin concerti with Krystian Zimerman, show us the genius and beauty behind Chopin’s orchestral writing.

There are probably no more formidable pianistic and musical challenges than the four Ballades of Chopin. To my ears, Cho is even more impressive with these monumental solo works. In each Ballade, he manages to create the impression of a huge arch from beginning to end, connecting each episode with a logic and sense of direction that makes each Ballade sound like an organic whole - remarkable achievement for so young an artist. He has an uncanny sense of pacing and timing, and manages to avoid the trap (one that stumps many great pianists) of making the music sound episodic. Even the much-played Ballade No. 1 in G minor sounds fresh and exciting under his hands. I especially loved the opening of the Ballade No. 2 in F major, where he voices the chords of the chorale just magnificently, and subtly brining out the many inner voices. The Ballade No. 3 in A-flat major comes off with a beguiling and quicksilver lightness. And in the monumental and masterful Ballade No. 4 in F minor, Cho brings a sweeping quality to the music, and his pianism and interpretation are simply impregnable.

No less enjoyable is Rafał Blechacz’s beautifully recorded and engineered Bach recording. I simply love his interpretation of the composer’s justly popular Italian Concerto, BWV 971, where he really highlights the concerto grosso characteristics of the work, effectively contrasting the different levels of sound between the ripieno and the concertino. Moreover, there is a palpable sense of forward propulsion in the outer movements. In the slow movement, Blechacz deftly balances the horizontal and the vertical, not sacrificing one for the other.

In his interpretation of the Partita No. 1 in B-flat major (BWV825) and Partita No. 3 in A minor (BWV 827), Blechacz beautifully brings out the character of each of the dance movement. In the Praeludium, he infuses the music with a luminosity of sound that reminds me of the legendary recording by Dinu Lipatti. In the Four Duets, BWV 802-805, the artist brings out the quirkiness of each of these little contrapunctal works. In the Fantasia and Fugue in A minor, BWV 944, he really brings out the “fantastic” elements of the opening Fantasia, and takes us on a rollercoaster of a ride in the tremendously exciting and breathtaking Fugue.

I would not want to be without Dinu Lipatti’s recording of the Myra Hess transcription of Jesus belibet meine Freude, but Blechacz’s interpretation makes a worthy addition to the recorded catalogue. He infuses the work with a serenity and repose, and successfully makes the music float as it moves forward.

Hearing these two new recordings by two very different artists, I cannot wait to hear them on stage. Blechacz has been a fairly regular visitor to the Vancouver stage, and his performances are always eagerly welcomed. Cho’s Vancouver recital debut has been much anticipated by the musical community as well as the large Korean community in Vancouver. No doubt, both artists will give us very different, but equally memorable performances.

Cho Seong-Jin makes his Vancouver recital debut on Sunday, November 12^th at 3:00 p.m., at the Chan Centre for the Performing Arts, and Blechacz plays his recital on Sunday, April 22^nd, 2018 at 3:00 p.m., at the Vancouver Playhouse.