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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In Loving Memory of Maestro Akiyama

Sad news over the weekend – Maestro Kazuoshi Akiyama, beloved and long-term music director of the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra (1972 – 1985), died in Japan.

 

Growing up in Vancouver during the tenure of his music directorship of the VSO, Maestro Akiyama was a significant presence in the Vancouver’s music scene. My first encounter with him was an all-Brahms programme – the first piano concerto with Claudio Arrau, and the first symphony. Even with the atrocious acoustics of the Queen Elizabeth Theatre, the music, as well as his brilliant direction of the orchestra, came through loud and clear.

 

It was during those formative years that I experienced many of the great musical masterpieces under his direction – Brahms’ second symphony, Dvorak’s eighth symphony, Mahler’s fourth and fifth symphonies, Bruckner’s zero, many of the Strauss’ tone poems, Elgar’s Enigma Variations, Tchaikovsky's 4th symphony, Mussorgsky/Ravel’s Pictures at an Exhibition, to name just a few, not to mention the great number of distinguished soloists who were guests of the orchestra. In addition to that Brahms performance with the great Claudio Arrau, I clearly remember an incredible performance of Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 27 in B-flat Major with Mitsuko Uchida, a gorgeous Chopin Piano Concerto No. 1 in E minor with Vladimir Ashkenazy, and a beautiful Bruch Violin Concerto No. 1 in G minor with the young Cho Liang-Lin. 

 

There was a specially arranged concert – a fundraising performance (I no longer remember the cause) – where the orchestra played Beethoven’s Egmont Overture, Berlioz’s Les nuits d’été with Delia Wallis, and Brahms’ Symphony No. 1 in C minor. The way the orchestra played that evening – the sound and the sense of style - under Maestro Akiyama’s direction, rivalled any of the world’s great orchestras.

 

I was sorry that the orchestra did not extend his contract beyond 1985, because the last couple of years of his tenure witnessed some of his most outstanding concerts.  

 

During his farewell performance as music director, he conducted Brahms’ Piano Concerto No. 1 in D minor with the then young Jon Kimura Parker, and Mahler’s Symphony No. 4 in G Major, with Delia Wallis. At the end of the Mahler, he did not lower his baton for a long time, as if he was hearing sounds that no one else heard, and that he did not want that moment to end. It was an absolutely magical and stunningly beautiful performance.

 

After a brief stint as music director of the Syracuse Symphony Orchestra, and other than guest conducting orchestras all over the world, Maestro Akiyama later limited his musical activities in his native Japan. He did return to Vancouver on numerous occasions, and all those return appearances were special. The musicians were evidently happy to see him return, and so was the audience. 

 

After the death of Seiji Ozawa last year, the music world has now lost another great "soldier of music" (to use Shostakovich's words). Audience and musicians in Vancouver ought to be grateful to Maestro Akiyama for his many years of dedicated service in our city. 

 

Personally, I will miss this gentleman and gentle man – not to mention his beautiful prematurely silver-grey hair - his graceful way on the podium, and his indelible music making. The best way to honour a person is to remember them. I will cherish all my musical memories with Maestro Akiyama, and I am certain all the people whose lives he touched would have their own memories of him as well.

 

May he Rest in Peace.

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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vancouver Symphony Season Opener with Yo Yo Ma

Cellist Yo Yo Ma made a flying visit to Vancouver to open the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra’s 105^thconcert season. 

 

The orchestra wisely placed Ma’s performance at the second half of the concert, so there was a great feeling of anticipation when Ma finally stepped onto the stage of the Orpheum Theatre for a performance of the Dvorak’s Cello Concerto in B minor, Op. 104. 

 

In a sleepless night after the concert where the sounds of Ma’s cello kept playing in my mind, I pondered what it is that makes Ma such a compelling artist. 

 

Unlike cellists such as Rostropovich and Maisky, Ma doesn’t produce a big bold sound from his instrument. What drew listeners, and members of the orchestra that played with him last evening, is a high personal, emotion-filled, intimate, even confiding tone that he produces on the cello. He has reached a point in his music-making that it isn’t even sounds that he makes on his instrument, but an endless range of emotions, with Dvorak’s notes as the medium. It was a highly personal approach to this very familiar concerto that would sound disjointed and illogical under the wrong hands, but somehow, Ma was able to infuse his performance into an organic whole.

 

I believe that Yo Yo Ma belongs to that very select group of artists who, in spite of the fame and adulation, never lost the sense of wonder about music, or the sense of privilege in making music. During the performance, he was evidently listening to members of the orchestra, making eye contact with them, almost cajoling them to join him in this act recreating something incredibly beautiful. I am certain that Ma has played this work countless times, but he was somehow able to make it sound fresh and spontaneous. 

 

In the second movement, a lament to the death of Dvorak’s sister-in-law and the true love of his life, Ma certainly bared his soul, and invited rather than commanded his listeners to enter his innermost thoughts. 

 

I have been attending performances of Mr. Ma since he was a very young artist, and it really has been a privilege to witness his artistic growth, through his performances and many recordings. At this time, one can only hope for many more years of his performing life, so that he can continue to share with us such indelible moments of beauty. 

James Ehnes in Vancouver

Violinist James Ehnes returned to Vancouver and gave the first of three performances with the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra under conductor Katharina Wincor. 

 

Ehnes is truly a wonder of the violin world. Even among the many distinguished violinists playing today, he stands out with the musicality of his music making, and the beauty of his intonation and sound. In Korngold’s gorgeous violin concerto, whose thematic material is drawn from many of the composer’s film scores, he played with a freedom and utter expressiveness that was utterly disarming. In the final movement, the mild-mannered Ehnes played with an effortless and rousing virtuosity that simply took one’s breath away. 

 

Wincor and the orchestra provided a sensitive tapestry of sound for the solo violin, though I wished at times that Wincor would take a more assertive role in the Korngold’s beautiful writing for the orchestra. This was especially apparent in the swashbuckling third movement, with music from the film The Price and the Pauper, where the orchestra could have played with much more swagger.

 

It was truly a testament to Ehnes’ talent that he switched to the viola in the second half of the concert, playing Bartok’s unfinished viola concerto (which was completed by Hungarian-born composer Tibor Serly, based on Bartok’s drafts) with the same assurance and beauty of sound that we heard from his violin playing. Even though the viola plays continuously, one could clearly discern three disparate “movements” in the work. The first movement’s sparse scoring highlights the quietly mournful melodies of the viola solo, something that Ehnes sensitively highlighted with his playing. The soloist played the chorale-like slow movement with palpable depth and feeling, as much as he brought out the wildness of the folkdance-like third movement. As in the Korngold, Wincor and the musicians of the orchestra travelled with Ehnes through the gentle lyricism of this music of Bartok’s late years.

 

Katharina Wincor is a talented conductor with ideas about the music, and she drew a truly beautiful sound from the orchestra. The opening work – Johann Strauss’ On the Beautiful Blue Danube – was well played indeed, but alas terribly un-Viennese. The much need lilt that makes or breaks any performance of this work was missing, as was breathing space between the notes, with the result that the music did not really take off. What was also missing was a palpable sense of nostalgia, nostalgia for a world that perhaps never existed.

 

In Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2, which closed the concert, she drew an incredibly rich sound from the VSO strings in the introduction. I did feel, however, that she dwelled a little too much on the sound and less so on the forward motion of the music. In the Lassan section that follows the introduction, she indeed brought out Liszt’s indication of mesto, but not so much the composer’s tempo indication of andante. This slowness somehow took away some of the music’s tension and upset the tempo relationship of the opening with the rest of the work, for instance, the extremely vividly played Friska. The result was a performance, albeit well executed, that seemed out of proportion and lacked cohesion.

 

Nevertheless, it was a concert that not only showcased the artistry and virtuosity of James Ehnes, but the outstanding players of the orchestra. It is also a very interesting example of thoughtful programming, one that represents four very different art works of the Central European tradition. It would be interesting to hear this young conductor again in other repertoire, to have a more complete picture of her artistry.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Artist at Work

The 2022 concert season, at least pianistically, ended on a very high note with Sergei Babayan’s concerto debut with the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra.

 

Mr. Babayan had of course made his debut in Vancouver already, in a highly distinguished recital for The Vancouver Chopin Society, in the pre-pandemic days of 2017. Since then, his schedule has been very full indeed, with appearances with artists like Daniil Trifonov and Martha Argerich, recording dates, his very busy teaching studio, and appearances with orchestras. Perhaps this is why it has taken our orchestra so long to obtain a date with him. But better late than never, because Friday night’s concert was probably one of the Vancouver Symphony’s most memorable concerts since live performances began. For this concert, Babayan chose to play Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 25 in C Major, K. 503.

 

With the piano’s first entry, I immediately knew that we were in for a very special performance. I had heard this very instrument played by many outstanding artists that played with the orchestra, and in recitals, but I had not heard a musician produced such a luminous, iridescent sound from these keys. There was a sense of lightness and buoyancy with each note, and each run. And with what profound emotion he played the gorgeous G major piano theme!

 

In the second movement, the four simple descending notes, C, A, F and E, was played with such simplicity but transcendent beauty, that illuminated the entire movement. At times, the sounds emanating from the instrument were no longer piano sounds, but just sounds of pure beauty and joy. In the third movement, Babayan played the music with the enthusiasm of a schoolboy, in the very best sense of the word, with a palpable exuberance that makes one want to stand up and cheer. It was truly a breathtaking, and breathtakingly luminous, performance of one of Mozart’s most majestic concerti.

 

As with any great Mozart performance, one is reminded of the operatic nature of much of the composer’s works. Last Friday evening’s performance so reminded me of Le Nozze di Figaro, with the soloist taking all the parts, and the orchestra commenting on the action!

 

Inspired by Babayan’s artistry, the orchestra and Otto Tausk were sympathetic partners in this memorable performance. The orchestra’s woodwinds, especially, contributed much to the tapestry of sound colours. 

 

With the uncertainties and vicissitudes of traveling today, the orchestra was plagued with a couple of high-profile cancellations this season. I am glad that Vancouver audiences had this opportunity to witness the artistry of this great artist and musician, and I hope that Mr. Babayan will be a frequent visitor to our city.

Music of Exile

I returned to the Orpheum Theatre last night to hear cellist Mischa Maisky as guest soloist with the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra.

 

The originally scheduled conductor had to cancel in the very last moment because of a family emergency, and the orchestra was fortunate in having secured the services of Stefan Asbury, a highly experienced conductor.

 

Perhaps it was Mr. Asbury’s experience that allowed him to put together this challenging programme in such short notice. Verdi’s I Vespri Siliani Overture and Beethoven’s Symphony No. 2 in D major were both well played by the orchestra. The Verdi was, however, curiously lacking in tension throughout, a “pleasant” reading rather than one that gets one’s pulse going. I had the same impression with the performance of the Beethoven, an interpretation that looks back at the genial music of Haydn rather than the revolutionary sounds of the Eroica; last night’s performance lacked a tautness in the musical fabric.

 

For the performance of Dvorak’s Cello Concerto in B minor, I have a feeling that the musicians of the orchestra were inspired, and really rose above themselves because of the presence of a great soloist. The missing musical tension in the first half of the concert was suddenly there, in spades.

 

Mr. Maisky gave a big, bold, heroic and ardent performance of the concerto, painting on an extremely large canvas. An experienced and avid chamber musician, he took pains to blend his own sound with that of the orchestral fabric, and conductor and soloist worked to make the work a symphonic experience. The range of sounds and colours he got from his instrument was nothing short of astounding. In the beautiful and soulful second theme, Maisky drew us into his emotional and sound world with playing that was both ardent and confiding. His playing of the second movement – music inspired by the illness of Dvorak’s sister-in-law and true love - was deeply heartfelt and overwhelmingly moving. In the third movement, he played with a rousing virtuosity that was breathtaking. 

 

Mr. Asbury should be given much credit for his role in the performance, for the Dvorak concerto is one that is littered with many potential ensemble pitfalls, all of which he and the orchestra deftly negotiated. He managed to give the work an organic whole. 

 

I was extremely touched by the entire performance, not only because of the great performance by this great musician. The Dvorak concerto is music of exile, as the composer had written it while living in America, far from his beloved Czech homeland. Throughout the work, there is a palpable sense of longing, a longing for home. 

 

Musical works created in exile and by exiles are often the most powerful – this would explain the power of the music of Chopin. 

 

In these last few years, when political persecution by ruthless dictatorships, and illegal war by a brutal dictator, had driven countless people from their homeland – in Hong Kong, in Syria, and of course Ukraine - last night’s performance of this Dvorak concerto became, for me, not only moving but extremely relevant. 

 

I do not know whether Mr. Maisky had any of these thoughts last night, but perhaps his choice of his only encore was telling – the Sarabande from Bach’s Cello Suite in C minor – a performance filled with dark colours and meaningful silences, one that had the audience holding their breath. Maisky, wisely, did not make any announcement or pronouncement, perhaps leaving it up to the imagination of the audience whom this mournful music was meant for.

 

All of a sudden, the world became a better place. 

Orchestral Debut - Charles Richard-Hamelin

I ventured into Vancouver’s Orpheum Theatre last Saturday for my first live Vancouver Symphony Orchestra concert in almost two years. In spite of being masked for an hour and a half, the concert turned out to be a more than worthwhile experience. The programme was tailored for a somewhat scaled-down orchestra because of our present social distancing requirements.

 

Music director Otto Tausk led the orchestra in a spirited reading of Joseph Bologne’s Overture to L’Amant anonyme. It was my first exposure to the music of this French classical composer, a contemporary of Mozart - Bologne was eleven years Mozart’s senior. Born in the West Indies to a planter and an African slave, Bologne was brought to France for education when he was seven. During his adult years, he was active not only as composer, violinist and conductor, but also as a champion fencer. The “overture”, in actuality a symphony in three movements, is composed in the gallant style, and contains a wealth of felicitous melodic materials. It is good that Bologne’s music is becoming better known and more often performed, as he is obviously a highly gifted composer. The orchestra more than rose to the challenges of the music, and Tausk lavished much care into preparing the ensemble in giving a polished performance.

 

The next item on the programme, much better known, was the Pelleas et Melissande Suite by Gabriel Faure. As in the Bologne, this performance was prepared and executed with much care. The justly famous Siciliano was played with great beauty by the flutist Chris James.

 

The great interest of the evening was of course Vancouver Symphony debut of Canadian Charles Richard-Hamelin, silver medalist of the 2015 International Chopin Competition. Hamelin had already given two outstanding solo recitals in Vancouver, but this was his long-awaited debut with the orchestra, one of the last major Canadian orchestras to feature him as concerto soloist. 

 

Appropriately, Hamelin’s choice for his orchestra debut was Chopin’s Piano Concerto No. 1 in E minor.

 

Since 2015, when he burst onto the international music scene with his win in Warsaw, Hamelin has matured both as an artist and musician. The freshness of his playing is still there, in spades, but add to that is now a maturity and depth in the music he plays. 

 

From the first chords of his entry in the first movement, it is easy to see why this young Canadian captured the hearts of the Varsovians and the ears of the jury members, for he demonstrated a complete identification with the Chopin idiom, as well as the logic of the composer’s melodic invention. Even with the large number of pianists who make Chopin a major part of their repertoire, there is only really a handful of true Chopinist in every generation. Charles Richard-Hamelin obviously belongs to this very small and select group. 

 

Hamelin played this work with a large palette of tone colours. His sound is always round and beautiful, and never forced. The shaping of each melodic idea was obviously well thought out, but without sacrificing the feeling of freshness and spontaneity. Every inflection was beautiful and poetic. In the second movement, Hamelin drew us into the very intimate sound world of the composer, and highlighted the great inner beauty inherent in the music. There was a hushed quality in his playing of this music, and the audience responded with the greatest compliment that can be afforded to any artist – silence. The Krakowiak rhythm of the third-movement, a stumbling block for many pianists, was brought to life under Hamelin’s hands. 

 

Chopin’s writing for the orchestra has been the subject of much derision. But if one were to examine the score carefully, one can see that the composer’s orchestration is not only highly sensitive in highlighting the solo part, but offers much beauty in itself, especially in the writing for the woodwinds. Tausk and the orchestra acquitted themselves admirably in playing this difficult score, sensitively supporting Hamelin from first note to last. 

 

The years following the winning of a major competition can be difficult ones for a young artist. After the initial buzz and attention of the musical press (and critical opinion can turn without a moment’s notice), a musician can continue to grow and develop into musical maturity, or an initially promising career can fizzle out if he or she merely keeps riding on the initial sensation. It is apparent that Charles Richard-Hamelin has now firmly established himself as a seasoned and mature artist, and we, the listeners, look forward to the coming chapters of his musical and artistic journey.

 

 

 

A Welcome Return

Maestro Jun Märkl’s now annual concert with the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra has become the highlight of my concert season in the city. On Saturday, the charming and energetic Märkl once again worked his magic and gave us a not-to-be-forgotten performance of works from the French orchestral repertoire.

Members of the orchestra, reduced to chamber music proportions, gave a sensitive reading of Pierre Boulez’s Memoriale…(…explosante-fixe…originel), with acting principal flute Chris James setting the tone with his evocative playing. The version played at the concert was part of a much larger work by the composer. Märkl and the musicians gave a performance that not so much exploited the resources of each instrument, but formed a collage of sound colours. Such a performance of a piece such as Boulez’s confirmed in my mind that dissonances – itself a relative term – can indeed be beautiful, albeit it perhaps a different kind of beauty.

The orchestra returned and Märkl led them through a beautifully balanced, impeccably paced performance of Maurice Ravel’s Pavane pour une infant defunte. Märkl brought out the beauty of Ravel’s orchestral colours in the strings, the French horn and the woodwinds. There was a souplesse, a subtlety in the sound of the orchestra, as well as a depth, or a sense of layers, in the sound of the strings. The performance of this intimate masterpiece had a glow in the sound, from first note to last. 

Cellist István Várdai joined Märkl and the orchestra in a dashing performance of Saint-Saëns’ Cello Concerto No. 1 in A minor, Op. 33. From his first entrance, Várdai captured my ears with his arresting sound and depth of tone. His playing of the lyrical transition to the second movement was not only beautiful, but also charged with meaning. In the second movement, Várdai played with an intimate, confiding tone that left the audience breathless, and in the third movement, soloist, conductor and orchestra squeezed out every ounce of this music’s Gallic charm. In his recording with pianist Ingrid Fliter (Chopin concerti) as well as last year’s performance with Yefim Bronfman (Brahms’ second piano concerto), Märkl proved himself not only a sensitive accompanist but also a gallant collaborator in concerti performances. He managed to direct our attention to the soloist, but he also lavished great attention to every detail in the score, and brought out every detail of Saint-Säens brilliant orchestration.

I was of course eagerly anticipating Märkl and the orchestra’s reading of Hector Berlioz’s revolutionary masterwork, Symphonie fantastique, Op. 14 – and Saturday’s performance confirmed in my mind that, indeed, after almost two hundred years, this music still sounds revolutionary on so many different levels.

The beauty of the playing conjured by Märkl captured my attention right from the opening triplets in the woodwinds. At measure 6, there was a stunningly beautifully-shaped two-note slur by the strings before the fermata – a small detail perhaps, but the devil, as they say, is in the detail. At measure 13, Märkl already made me aware of the many layers of sound colours in the score. At rehearsal 2, the strings played with a radiant beauty of tone. Obviously the conductor had thought carefully about voicing, and this showed even in the brief two measures before rehearsal 4. The first brief climax at rehearsal was paced such that this arrival had a real sense of occasion, of arrival, and of a sense of inevitability in the music. Roger Cole shone with his gorgeous playing of the brief oboe solo at rehearsal 16. In the movement’s coda, the delicate line for first violins was filled with an ardent feeling, and give feeling that the music was hanging by a thread. There was a true feeling of reverence (Berlioz’s marking at measure 513 was “Religiosamente”) in the beautifully voiced ending to the movement. In short, I have rarely heard this first movement played with such a sense of indescribable, hopeless yearning. 

Märkl evoked a magical atmosphere in the beginning of Un bal. The conductor really captured the feel of the waltz rhythms in this movement, and the orchestra’s playing here can be described, in every sense of the word, as suave. The appearance of the Idée fixe at measure 120 gave the feeling of an apparition, and the build-up to the ending of the movement literally took my breath away.

Again, the conductor immediately set the mood of the Scène aux champs, with the oboe and English horn echoing each other. There was such a hushed quality in the music, such a mood of emptiness, stillness, and perhaps desolation (I’m not sure if Märkl intended this) that reminded me of the opening of the third act of Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde. At measure 46, the orchestra played with an incredible elasticity in sound as well as with a velvety, rich tone. And at rehearsal 41, the celli and basses played with an indelible power and depth of sound. The violins played with a true pianississimo at rehearsal 43, providing a fabric of sound for the clarinet solo above the texture. The distant thunder at the end of the movement was truly vivid, and had almost a cinematic quality to it. 

In the dramatic opening to the fourth movement (Marche au supplice) the sound evoked by conductor and orchestra had a palpable eeriness and a feeling of malevolence. In this as well as the fifth movement, members of the orchestra played with inspiration and with a rousing virtuosity that wanted to make one stand up and cheer.  I would like to especially highlight the breathtaking and breath-stopping playing of the bassoonist Julia Lockhart in her extended solo at measure 50. The playing of this march had a real sense of direction, of forward motion, and the musicians gave us the feeling of witnessing an awesome spectacle. I loved Märkl’s dramatic pacing of the lead up to the great climax at measure 123. 

Märkl brought out the feeling of evil and decay in the opening of the Songe d’une nuit du sabbat. Even with this familiar music, Saturday’s performance conveyed an element of surprise in the many orchestral effects, as well as the inherent weirdness of the music, especially in the “corrupted” version of the Idée fixe at measure 46. As in the fourth movement, there was a palpable sense of inevitability in the forward motion of the music until the bright sound of the final chord.

There was a story about conductor Arthur Nikish arriving for a rehearsal of Tchaikovsky’s fifth symphony to a group of tired, sullen musicians. Within a few minutes, Nikish whipped the musicians into such a frenzy of excitement that they were playing like fiends! Indeed, a major aspect of the art of conducting is psychological. On Saturday, it was obvious that every member of the ensemble wanted to be there, and wanted to play well. On top of his obviously impeccable musicianship, I believe Märkl has this great indescribable gift of inspiring his fellow musicians to give their utmost. The smiles on the musicians’ faces were a welcomed sight. Once again, the concert confirmed my impression, formed after his first appearance in Vancouver, that this is a great conductor and musician.

So, once again, welcome back to Vancouver, Maestro Jun Märkl. We hope to have you back every season, and more!

Patrick May

Two Views of Daniil Trifonov

I had been greatly anticipating Daniil Trifonov’s concerto debut with the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra in Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto No. 3 in D minor, Op. 30. I had just a couple of weeks earlier heard the pianist gave a ravishing and searing account of the composer’s 4^th piano concerto with the Seattle Symphony, and had been looking forward to hearing Trifonov’s interpretation of the “Rach 3”.

It pains me to write that Trifonov’s performance with the Vancouver Symphony was a bitter disappointment for me – in fact, it took me this many weeks before I am able to put these brief thoughts to “paper”. From the outset of the performance, the haunting melody for the piano simply could not be heard. I could not blame it on where I was seating, as I had a seat in one of the relatively better acoustical area of the Orpheum. In fact, most of what Trifonov was doing could not be heard above the orchestra. Moreover, there was no semblance of collaboration between soloist and conductor, and music director Otto Tausk appeared to be simply trying to keep up with the pianist. In addition, there seemed to have been a lack of energy or passion, or a sense of direction, in Trifonov’s playing that evening. Even the many climatic moments of the work left me feeling underwhelmed.

Speaking of the Orpheum’s acoustics, I got chatting with a couple that sat beside me, who said they had just moved to Vancouver from London (England). At the conclusion of the concerto, the gentleman turned to me and said, “You really need a new concert hall in this city.”

Because of my disappointment at Trifonov’s Vancouver performance, I had been reluctant to put on his new recording of the same concerto with the Philadelphia Orchestra and Yannick Nézet-Séguin. I eventually did, and heard a stunning performance of the work. It was only in hearing Trifonov’s recording that I think I understood what he was trying to do in Vancouver. It seems to me that the pianist was not just another soloist out to impress, but was trying to weave the piano part of the concerto within the orchestral fabric in order to produce an organic whole. At all times, Trifonov took pains to bring out the intensely lyrical and spiritual qualities inherent in the music. It came off in the performance with the Philadelphians, but certainly not in Vancouver. Thrilling as the Philadelphia performance is, I found Trifonov’s performance of this concerto with Nézet-Séguin much more than a thrill ride, but an intensely moving musical experience. It was also a treat to behold the playing of the Philadelphia Orchestra under Nézet-Séguin, which seems to be once again playing with the lushness and beauty of sound (without sacrificing clarity of texture) as it did under Stokowski and Ormandy. I was reminded of Rachmaninov’s own statement that he used to compose with the sound of this orchestra in his mind.

I certainly hope Trifonov would grace Vancouver with his presence once again, perhaps in a performance by himself, as he did on several previous occasions. Perhaps he would feel more inspired to give us a performance that does full justice to his tremendous talent and artistry.

A Memorable Evening with the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra

Under conductor Jun Märkl, the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra gave one of the finest concerts I have heard in the Orpheum for a long time.

The concert began with Brahms’ monumental Piano Concerto No. 2 in B-flat major, Op. 83, with the legendary Yefim Bronfman as soloist. I was surprised that an artist of Bronfman’s stature did not attract a full house last evening. The performance certainly deserved one.

Right from the French horn solo at the beginning, I sensed that we were in for a very special evening. Only a few pianists have the truly “big” (and I do not necessarily mean loud) sound needed for this concerto. Bronfman has it, in spades. At the forteentry by the piano at m. 11, it was very evident that the soloist captures the essence of Brahms’ idiom. At the same time, the sound Bronfman conjures from the Steinway, no matter how massive it got, was never forced, and was always beautiful. On the other hand, even when Bronfman was playing the most whispering pianissimos, he was somehow able to still project the sound over the orchestral texture. I thought to myself that this must have been what Arthur Rubinstein or even Eugen D’Albert (an earlier exponent of this particular work) sounded like when he played this concerto, because Bronfman’s sound has the same glow, and the same generosity of spirit in it. It is a sound that does not demand, but invites our attention. Mr. Bronfman had not played in Vancouver for many years, and it was certainly great to have him back. Perhaps a solo recital next time?

I was no less captivated by Jun Märkl’s conducting and the playing of the orchestra last evening. The distinguished young conductor captured the Brahmsian sound throughout the work. There was thickness, a real sense of substance, in the sound when the music called for it, but there was always a sense of forward motion, as well as a transparency of texture. 

It was also very obvious that Bronfman and Märkl were listening to each other, making the performance a sort of continuous chamber music. This is for me the highest form of music making. The collaboration between soloist, conductor, and orchestra was, from first note to last, flawless. Moreover, I had never before heard the VSO strings sound so beautiful as I did last evening. Throughout the evening, there was a bloom in the string sound, as well as a truly beautiful pianissimo. 

For me, last night’s performance of the Andantemovement was magical. At the PiùAdagio section (5 measures after C), where the piano plays with the clarinets, and the strings providing the harmonic landscape, there was a palpable feeling of intimacy and heightened emotions. So well did conductor and soloist paced the music that there was a sense of inevitability, as well as a feeling of catharsis, at the re-entry of the solo cello at letter D. The Allegretto graziosomovement was delivered with as much grace, humour and joie de vivreas called for by the music.

The concert continued with Franz Liszt’s symphonic poem Les Préludes, and here we were witnessed to this conductor’s sensitivity and musicality. I loved the way he shapes the phrases, something we do not often hear. This was obvious right from the outset of the score, with the arpeggiated passage played by the strings. Märkl knows the score inside out. Not only did he direct from memory, his pacing was so impeccable that there was a real sense of organic wholeness or unity in what could have been played as a series of beautiful but disjointed episodes. From the first pizzicato C’s to the triumphant conclusion, every section of the orchestra sounded absolutely glorious.

In Richard Strauss’ Don Juan, which concluded the concert, the opening 16^th-note run by the strings sounded positively confident, even defiant. Once again, I must reiterate that the VSO strings were a revelation last night. The swashbuckling opening theme was played with an incredible feeling of swagger worthy of Errol Flynn. In the beautiful theme for the violin at Letter E, there was palpable warmth in the sound, again so rarely heard at the Orpheum. Concertmaster Nicholas Wright did the orchestra proud with his alluring playing in the solos, and the famous French horn theme sounded absolutely secure. Märkl was in control of the ever-changing elements of the music, and directed a performance of this score that was sweeping, breathtaking, and utterly musical. There is a grace in his movement that translates into the music. In each work being played last night, every phrase and every detail in the score pulsated with life. This conductor brought the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra to a level of playing I had not heard for a very long time. 

A performance like the one on Thursday evening was truly a celebration of great music, and of the greatness of music.

We are now at the beginning of a new era for the orchestra, with Otto Tausk as Music Director. I think the orchestra would do very well by inviting Mr. Märkl to be Principal Guest Conductor. This way we would secure the services of what is obviously one of today’s most outstanding conductors.

Welcome back to Vancouver, Jun Märkl.