The Art of Programming

If nothing else, Jeremy Denk’s solo recital last Sunday at the Chan Centre for the Performing Arts should be credited for originality in programming. I would wager that a couple of the composers whose works he played had never before appeared on a recital programme in Vancouver. From Bach’s dance suite to Schumann’s Carnaval that ends the programme, it appears that the entire programme was infused with the spirit of the dance.

Denk begins his concert with J. S. Bach’s English Suite No. 3 in G Minor, BWV 808.  The sound he makes on the piano was beautiful, and he played the music with a wonderful sense of rhythm and forward motion, especially in the extended concerto grosso–like Prelude. I did feel that there was a little over-pedaling, thus sacrificing a bit of textual clarity. The pianist also observes all the repeats in the dances. I didn’t, however, feel that there was enough variation in the way the repeats were played to justify their observance.

The rest of the concert’s first half was, in Denk’s words, a sort of “i-Pod shuffle” of different works. The next item on the programme, Scott Hayden and Scott Joplin’s Sunflower Slow Drag, was played with a great deal of charm, and just the right amount of rubato. It did, to me, sounded a little rushed, slightly breathless, reminding me of Joplin’s complaint that most people played his music too quickly. I would personally have liked him to take a little more time with the music, giving it slightly more breathing room.

The pianist then turned back the clock a few centuries, playing William Byrd’s The Passing Measures: the Nynth Pavian from My Ladye Nevelles Booke. Other than Glenn Gould and perhaps Peter Serkin, I cannot really think of any other pianists who would even attempt these virginal pieces on the modern concert grand. This music is notoriously difficult to bring off, as it is up to the artist to capture the audience’s attention with a variety of sounds and colours. I think Denk is successful in moving the music forward as well as holding our attention in this incredibly beautiful and moving music. As in the Bach, I did feel that the music suffered from a lack of clarity.

Igor Stravinsky’s Piano Rag Music is written for and dedicated to Arthur Rubinstein, as a thank you to the pianist for his financial assistance during a difficult period in the composer’s life.  In the pianist’s entertaining but highly subjective memoirs My Many Years, he gives an account of his reaction to the work.

It took me four or five readings to understand the meaning of this music. 

It bore out Stravinsky’s indication that it was going to be “the first real piano 

piece.” In his sense, it was just that; but to me it sounded like an exercise for percussion and had nothing to do with any rag music, or with any other 

music in my sense.

Rubinstein, although one of the first of the “modern” pianists and a great champion of contemporary composers, probably finds the “percussiveness” of Stravinsky’s score offensive to his sense of aesthetics of what is, or should be, beautiful, in music.

I believe that Stravinsky would have been highly pleased with Denk’s interpretation of the Piano Rag Music. It is certainly as “wild” and colourful as the composer intended it to be. The pianist’s reading of this music reminds me that Stravinsky is, after all, the composer of Le Sacre du printemps, the work that changed music in the 20^th century.

Denk follows Stravinsky’s work with Paul Hindemith’s own “take” on ragtime, in his Ragtime, from the 1922 Suite. Prior to the Suite, the composer had previously experimented with the jazz idiom in his Kammermusik No. 1, where he introduced a foxtrot. In his preface to this Ragtime movement of the score, Hindemith admonishes the pianist with instructions like, “Pay no attention to what you have learned in your piano lessons”, “Play this piece very ferociously, but keep strictly in rhythm like a machine” and, “Regard the piano here as an interesting kind of percussion instrument and treat it accordingly.” Stravinsky would have approved of this work! The pianist certainly takes the composer’s advice to the letter, bringing out (even more than in the Stravinsky) the music’s wildness and savage drive.

Unlike the Joplin that he played earlier, I feel that Denk’s playing of William Bolcom’s Graceful Ghost Rag is utterly charming, with a perfect feel for the rhythm and pacing of the music, as well as impeccable taste.

The programme continues in its adventurous vein with Conlon Nancarrow’s Canons for Ursula No. 1, written for legendary American pianist Ursula Oppens. The composer wrote a large number of works for the player piano, thinking that the instrument would be able to bring off even the most complex rhythmic and polyphonic textures. Listening to Denk’s masterful playing of the score, one could easily think that the pianist is (in the best sense of the word) a sort of playing machine. I was stunned at how he manages the incredibly difficult timing and rhythmic shifts in the music. I am very grateful to the artist for introducing us to this score, and to actually playing a work by this elusive composer.

The final work of the first half, Donald Lambert’s arrangement of Wagner’s Pilgrims’ Chorus from Tannhäuser, is a stride piano “look” at this very familiar music. Those who haven’t heard this music (myself including) would probably find it difficult to imagine how effective and wonderfully irreverent it is. Denk’s playing of this music brings the first half of the recital to a spirited finish.

After the adventurous first half, the two works presented after intermission seem positively traditional. Haydn’s Fantasia in C Major, Hob XVII:4 is a delightful romp through many different keys and surprisingly textual changes. Denk’s playing of this work is certainly breathtaking. Perhaps a marginally slower tempo would have given the music a slight bit more clarity, without really sacrificing the humour within the score. At risk of being accused of splitting hair, I feel that the (left hand) octaves at mm. 193-194 and at mm. 303-304 could have been held longer. In both instances, the subsequent entries appear to come too soon.

Robert Schumann’s perennially beautiful and fresh Carnaval, Op. 9, is Denk’s final offering for the afternoon. The spirit of the dance can certainly be found throughout this early masterpiece.

I find that with musicians who are attracted to highly complex music, there is an emotional ambivalence when they approach more “simple” music. This is the impression I get on Sunday with Denk’s playing of Carnaval. Somehow the sum didn’t add up to be greater than its parts, even with the artist’s incredible pianism.

I was surprised when, at mm. 112 to 113 of the Préamble, he sped up the music rather than observing the composer’s ritenuto. I also feel that stringendo marking at the end of the movement could have been done to greater effect, so that there is more of a build up. The rather quick tempo that Denk takes in the Valse noble robs the music of its, well, nobility and dignity, as well as its tension. In Chiarina, again the rather quick tempo, for me, takes away much of the passionato quality of the music. I do feel that the very fast tempo the pianist adopts for the Valse allemande suits the character of the music. He plays it quicker than many pianists I have heard, which is, for me, faithful to the composer’s molto vivace marking.

Denk’s playing of Eusebius and Chopin is, for me, the highlights of his interpretation of the work. In Eusebius, the pianist coaxes a luminous sound from the instrument, and the music comes off as dreamily as the composer would have wanted. In Chopin, Schumann’s deliciously wicked portrayal of the composer, there is an ardent quality that is somehow missing in much of the other sections of the work; in the repeat, there could have been more tonal variance to give more variety in the sound.

Denk’s pianistic abilities are brought to the fore in Pantalon et Colombine as well as in Paganini. His playing of the Marche des “Davidsbündler” contre les Philistins is impeccable. I did not think there is enough build up in tension or in sound towards an orgiastic finish to the music. Perhaps it is a lack of a sense of totality that makes this a less than completely satisfactory realization of the score.

In response to the urgings of the audience, Denk graced us with a limpid and beautiful account of the 13^th variation of Bach’s Goldberg Variations. As in the English Suite that opened the concert, I have the same reservation about over-pedaling, and the repeats just do not have enough variety in interpretation or sound to justify them.

We should all be thankful for Jeremy Denk’s highly varied and original programme. He is obviously a pianist with great pianistic ability, as well as something to say about the music he plays. I hope, in future, to hear him in different repertoire so as to get a more complete picture of his artistry.

Neoclassical Evening

The Vancouver Symphony Orchestra’s parade of guest conductors continued last weekend with another distinguished visitor to the podium. Conductor Jun Märkl led the orchestra in a lovely programme of Prokofiev, Mendelssohn and Strauss. Like Alexander Shelley, Märkl had chosen a programme that called for musicianship rather than virtuosity, and the result was yet another felicitous evening of music-making.

Instead of performing at the orchestra’s home at the Orpheum Theatre, last Friday and Saturday’s concerts were given at the Chan Centre for the Performing Arts, for me Vancouver’s only acoustically satisfying concert space. I was astonished at how much more alive the orchestra’s sound was in a different concert hall.

The concert began with Prokofiev’s Symphony No. 1 in D Major, Op. 25, more famously known as the Classical symphony. Märkl brought out all the zest and humour in this - the composer’s most congenial work. I appreciated how the conductor brought out the inner voices and not often heard details, especially in the wind writing in the first movement. The tempo chosen for the second movement, marked Larghetto, was a little faster than that of many conductors. For me, this gives the music a nice sense of movement, and of flow. The third movement Gavotta was played with great style, and with wonderful lilt. In the final movement, the conductor certainly more than paid lip service to Prokofiev’s indication of molto vivace, and led the musicians in a daring ride through this tricky and difficult music. It was wonderful to watch the smiles on so many of the musicians’ faces. Obviously, they enjoyed playing this music and responded with great spark, and energy. It appears that Märkl had established a good rapport with the musicians of the orchestra.

For me, Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto in E Minor, Op. 64, is one of the composer’s most divinely inspired works. Ever since Jasha Heifetz elevated the standards of violin playing in the 20^th century, it is amazing how many distinguished violinists we have in our midst today. I was very moved by Karen Gomyo’s playing of this beautiful and impassioned work. The young violinist has a very emotive sound, but one tempered by discipline and restraint. I had previously admired Jun Märkl’s reading of Chopin’s two piano concerti with Ingrid Fliter in a recent recording. Last Friday’s concert confirmed in my mind what a sensitive collaborator this conductor is. To my ears, some of the climatic moments were slightly too bright, but that could have been because of the proximity of our seats to the stage. I was particularly taken with how Märkl voiced the chord at mm. 127 to 130, when the orchestra falls into a hush after the statement of the opening theme. Collaboration between soloist and conductor was impeccable.

Richard Strauss’ Le Bourgeois gentilhomme Suite, Op. 60, is not a work that we hear often. I was amazed at Strauss’ mastery in orchestration, making a relatively small ensemble (37 players according to the notes) sound like a full symphonic body. Originally written as incidental music to a play by Molière, the play itself did not succeed with the audience, but Strauss extracted parts of the score into the present suite. According to Norman del Mar, author of the three-volume biography of the composer, this nine-movement suite “ranks as one of his finest works.” Märkl clearly saw the greatness in this score, and guided the orchestra in a reading that is alert, elegant, and always beautiful. The many dance movements, including the second movement menuett, the Dance of the Tailors (Movement 4), The Menuett of Lully (Movement 5), and the sixth movement courante, were particularly beguiling. The sparkling final movement (The Dinner), where Strauss liberally “stole” from his own works as well as that of Wagner, the orchestra responded to Märkl’s directions, and played brilliantly. Concertmaster Dale Barltrop and Principal Cellist Ariel Barnes shone in their many solos throughout the score, and the always excellent winds of the orchestra stood out with their wonderful playing.

It was interesting to watch two guest conductors within a week between the two concerts. Both Alexander Shelley and Jun Märkl brought their unique personality and talents to the podium.

Compared to Shelley, Märkl is a more dramatic conductor, in both his gestures as well as the colours he brought out of the orchestra. In different ways, I was very happy with the music making of the orchestra under both conductors. With such outstanding candidates coming for their “auditions” with the orchestra, the future of the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra should be in good hands.

Let us hope for a conductor that will take this orchestra into a new level of excellence and prominence.

Symphonic Debut

The Vancouver Symphony Orchestra is in search of a new music director, which probably explains why we have been having more than our usual share of guest conductors. Last Saturday, conductor Alexander Shelley (son of the pianist Howard Shelley) made his debut with the orchestra. Shelley had been appointed Music Director-designate of the National Arts Centre Orchestra, succeeding Pinchas Zukerman.

The concert opened with Alexina Louie’s Infinite Sky with Birds. Ms. Louie was on hand to speak about the inspiration behind her work: “The idea of the sights of hundreds of birds taking flight and the kind of exhilaration that I feel when I see that.” I once heard it said that great music should evoke and not describe. Ms. Louie, one of Canada’s most original and innovative composers, certainly evoked the sight of birds in flight. The music is very colourful, and exploitative (in the best sense of the word) the resources of the orchestra. Shelley conducted with authority and led the musicians with clarity through the dense and complex score. Towards the end of the music, there was a moment, with rushing strings, evoking the sight of the flock of birds taking flight, which was especially memorable, and gripping. Ms. Louie’s score is one that elicits an emotional response and involvement from the audience.

It is a wonderful coincidence that both of Ravel’s piano concerti should be presented within the space of a few weeks. In this concert, Canada’s Janina Fialkowska performed the composer’s Jazz-tinged, Gershwin-influenced Piano Concerto in G Major. Whenever I hear Fialkowska, I often think of Arthur Rubinstein, her mentor. Like Rubinstein, Fialkowska plays this quintessentially French score with greater clarity than a lot of other pianists. Like Rubinstein, who also plays French music with much clarity and more “meat” than many French pianists, this makes for a very refreshing way to hear this familiar music.

The jewel in the crown is, of course, the slow movement, Adagio assai. Fialkowska played the opening of this movement, with its unusually long solo for the instrument, with great feeling. This opening gives one the feeling (as in the slow movement of Beethoven’s violin concerto) of time standing still, but Fialkowska managed to maintain the impetus of the music so that the musical line does not come to a stand still. The third movement was done with as much flair and panache that the music calls for. Shelley proved an able and sympathetic partner to Fialkowska, and the orchestra, with all the beautiful woodwind solos, sounded sensational. I could not help thinking how much Mr. Rubinstein would have enjoyed Ms. Fialkowska’s performance.

I appreciated the fact that Shelley chose a programme with a low “wow” factor for his debut. The second half of the concert consisted of Franz Schubert’s charming Symphony No. 5 in B-flat Major, D. 485. Throughout the evening, but especially in this symphony, I appreciated Shelley’s sense of direction in the music, both horizontally and vertically, his sense of the musical line, and the beautiful phrasing he received from the orchestra.

Mr. Shelley is not an acrobatic conductor, but guided the musicians through the music with clear gestures, and with an invitation to listen to each other.

It was certainly a most satisfying evening, a beautiful evening of great music being played beautifully, and with joy.

The Art of the Encore

Although only 23 years old, pianist Nikolay Khozyaninov already has an impressive string of competition wins. And so it was with great anticipation that I attended his recital last Friday evening.

Recent performers for the Vancouver Chopin Society have not been concentrating so much on the music by the society’s namesake, but Khozyaninov gave us an entire first half devoted to music by Chopin. The justifiably famous Nocturne in E-flat major, Op. 9, No. 2 was taken at an unusually slow tempo. But tempo isn’t really the issue here, an artist can take any tempo as long as he or she can sustain and maintain the tensions within the music. This was not the case in Khozyaninov’s playing of this particular nocturne. At measure 6, with an ascending series of notes in the right hand, the pianist inserted a significant ritard where Chopin indicated only crescendo, which led to, so early on in the piece, an interruption in the impetus of the music. Perhaps he was dwelling too much on the beauty of the music, to the detriment of the musical flow.

The Nocturne in C-sharp minor, Op. 27, No. 1 worked better under Khozyaninov’s hands. The opening of the work, with quietly flowing left hand broken chords, and the haunting right hand melody, were realized beautifully. I did feel that the climactic, mazurka-like, section from measures 64 to 80, lacked nobility. The young artist opened the great Barcarolle, Op. 60 with a great sense of space. There was, however, not enough of a build-up towards the great climax at measure 93, that when the moment did arrive, it was almost like an anti-climax.

Khozyaninov followed this great work with three waltzes by Chopin. For me, the Waltz in B minor, Op. 69, No. 2 was the most successful. The artist’s playing brought out the simple beauty, and slightly melancholic character of the work. In the great Waltz in C-sharp minor, Op. 64, No. 2, I took issue with the speeding up at the B section of the piece (not indicated at all by the composer), which changed the pulse of the music. After the Più lento section, Chopin did write Più mosso for the reappearance of the B theme, but this is only in relation to the slower tempo of the Più lento, and not a license to speed up the first time the B theme appears. The Waltz in A-flat major, Op. 69, No. 1 is, for me, a miniature tone poem for piano. I felt that the pianist missed the shifting colours and moods that the music takes us. I would perhaps suggest that he listens to Alfred Cortot’s incredible interpretation of this work, not to imitate, but to learn from it.

In the Ballade No. 2 in F major, Op. 38, the dramatic sections worked much better than the quieter chordal sections as the chords did not float and lacked a sense of direction as well as repose.

It seems incredible that this must have been the fourth or fifth time this season that I heard Beethoven’s Sonata No. 31 in A-flat major, Op. 110. This is not a complaint, since a work like the Op. 110 can have a wide range of interpretations. On Friday, there were things that were outstanding, such as in the rhythmically tricky second movement (“Allegro molto”) as well as a beautifully realized Adagio ma non troppo movement. In the latter, Khozyaninov brought out the depth and pathos of the music as well as a sense of time standing still, especially in the many pregnant pauses in the Recitativo (measure 4). In the Klagender Gesang (Arioso dolente) - the most tragic music Beethoven ever wrote, Khozyaninov played with great beauty and depth of feeling, but without sacrificing the impetus of the music. I did, however, feel that in the first movement, the left hand accompaniment to the first theme was rather wooden sounding, as were the left hand chords at measures 13 to 18, and at 71 to 75. Compared to Paul Lewis’ magisterial playing of the fugue in the final movement, only a week ago, Khozyaninov again fell short in the very slow build up towards the radiant A-flat major chord that ends the piece.

I was grateful to the pianist for playing Tchaikovsky’s Original Theme and Variations in F major, Op. 19. The young artist brought out the unique character and charm of each variation of this set of theme and twelve variations.

The pianist then proceeded to tackle Feux follets (Allegretto), the fifth of Franz Liszt’s 12 Etudes d’exécution transcendante and, according to many, most difficult of the set. I sat stunned as I heard the pianist played this work with great aplomb, flair, and the most incredible lightness and agility. It was a truly breathtaking pianistic feat. More impressive piano playing awaited us in the final work of the recital, the Liszt-Busoni Fantasy on Two Themes from Mozart’s Marriage of Figaro. The two themes from the opera are, specifically, Cherubino’s beautiful Voi che sapete and Figaro’s mocking Non più andrai. Not knowing the work, I couldn’t help but wonder how much of the work was Busoni, and how much was Liszt. As expected, it was a barnburner of an interpretation, where Khozyaninov pulled out all his pianistic stops. It was truly ingenious how the composer (composers?) merged the two themes in this staggeringly difficult work.

With such incendiary playing in these final works, it was no surprise that the audience clamored for more. Khozyaninov rewarded us with four encores. In the Waltz in E minor, Oeuvre posthume, I felt that his playing of this particular Chopin waltz was far too skittish, and missed the noble beauty of the E major section. Busoni’s Fantasy on Carmen once again brought out the best in this young man, who relished in the colours, not to mention pianistic hurdles, of this complex music. To my ears, he gave us his most musical and sensitive playing for the evening in Debussy’s Clair de lune, reminding us once again that this piece is popular because it is truly beautiful. I was rather hoping to leave the recital with the delicate sounds of the Debussy. I was therefore disappointed that he ended his string of encores with Strauss-Rosenthal's Fantasy on themes from Der Fledermaus. Yes, the playing was brilliant, and it was clear that the pianist was having fun, but I think there should only be so much virtuosic playing in one recital. After a while, the pianistic feats began to wear thin, and at the end of the experience, I longed for silence. After the recital, I was convinced more than ever that any artist should know when to quit.

I am certain that Nikolay Khozyaninov is a pianist of incredible abilities. I believe time will tell if he truly becomes an artist as well. I hope that his busy career won’t hamper him from continuing to study and think about music.