Resumption of Concert Life

It was with a tremendous feeling of excitement as I attended the first concerts in Vancouver since the pandemic. Even the smaller audiences and socially distanced seating could not detract from the experience of feeling the music as it was being made, without the aid of audio-visual equipment or computer screens.

 

I headed to Christ Church Cathedral to attend the Vancouver Cantata Singers’ concert entitled Silence and Music: Moving Stories and Remembrance, their post-COVID version of their annual Remembrance Day concert. Music Director Paula Kremer returned to lead this outstanding choir in a programme highlighting the emotions of loss and remembrance. 

 

From the opening In Memoriam by Ruth Watson Henderson, the singing of this choir never fails to move one’s senses. Anton Bruckner’s Ave Maria was equally affecting, as was Vaughan Williams’ Silence and Music, with the composer’s unique blend of dissonance. Observing this season of remembrance, the choir performed two perennial favourites – Dave Rosborough’s arrangement of In Flander’s Fields and William Henry Monk’s Abide with Me, as arranged by Leighton, Worthington, Kremer and Rosborough. Soloists Emily Cheung and Sarah McGrath shone in Eriks Esenvalds’ O Salutaris hostia. As always, the acoustics of Christ Church Cathedral lends itself well to the sound of this choir.

 

Certainly, an auspicious beginning to the year’s concert season.

 

Then it was off to the Orpheum Theatre for a piano recital by Behzod Abduraimov, under the auspices of the Vancouver Recital Society. Things got off to a very promising start with two contrasting Scarlatti sonatas, B minor (K. 27) and D major (K. 96), highlighting Abduraimov’s beautiful sound and touch. The D major sonata was particularly effectively realized, evoking almost the sights and sounds of the changing of the guards at the royal palace in Madrid. I wasn’t sure if the repeats for each section was really needed, as the repetition did not really bring new ideas to what had already been so wonderfully played the first time around. 

 

Abduraimov launched into Schumann’s Kreisleriana (Op. 16) with a whirlwind of a tempo, but I was uncertain if that really added to the tension called for with composer’s instruction of Äuberst bewegt. Moreover, the opening tempo made it almost impossible to really observe Schumann’s Etwas bewegter in the Intermezzo II. For me, it was in the more intimate sections of the work, for instance, movement 2, 4, and 6. Paradoxically, the pianist’s facility at the piano took away some of the contrast and tension of the stormier sections of the work. It was a reading of Schumann’s luminous score that underscores the artist’s pianism and beauty of sound rather than the kaleidoscopic colours as well as the shifting between light and shadow that make this music so moving, or taking us into the composer’s inner world.

 

Abduraimov’s rendition of Mussorgski’s Bilder einer Ausstellung (Pictures at an Exhibition) was spectacular, stunning and superhuman, harking back to the interpretations of Horowitz and Richter. This young man is born to play this work. Although it is now difficult to erase from one’s mind the sounds of Ravel’s masterful orchestration, but the young artist somehow made the score almost more colourful than it would have been possible with an entire orchestra. Even with the number of outstanding pianists today, Abduraimov’s virtuosity is nothing less than astounding. In Bydlo, he achieved an incredible buildup and excitement, that the climax was simply overwhelming. But it was more than virtuoso playing, but his ability to bring out the unique character of each “picture” that made his performance so memorable. I would, however, have loved to ask the artist why he skipped the Promenade immediately before Limoges. His playing of Catabombae and Con mortuis in lingua mortua was positively spooky. The sound he got out of the beautiful Steinway (courtesy of the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra) toward the end of Das Bogatyr-Tor filled the cavernous space of the Orpheum, no small achievement indeed. This was certainly a performance of Pictures at an Exhibition that would be difficult to top. 

 

The afternoon of Sunday, November 14^th brought us a very different kind of recital – guitarist Milos and mandolinist Avi Avital gave a joint recital on the stage of the Vancouver Playhouse. The unlikely combination of the two instruments made for a very effective and sometimes moving performance. I found that Avital’s mandolin playing had greater projection and musicality than Milos’. The pieces by Bach and Philip Glass worked particularly well for the two instruments. Giovanni Sollima’s rhapsodic Prelude for Mandolin Solo sounded soulful and moving under Avital’s hands. Indeed, it was a masterful performance of this relatively new work. I did, however, find Milos’ playing of Albeniz’s justly famous Asturiassomewhat dry and lacking in passion and projection. The real highlight of the afternoon was the premiere of Mathias Duplessy’s three-movement Sonata for Guitar and Mandolin, giving equal prominence to both instruments. The slow middle movement was particularly engaging. A very enjoyable reprieve from the rainy Vancouver afternoon.

 

Although I did have my share of concert at the just-concluded Chopin Competition in Warsaw, it is certainly a good feeling to be able to attend live musical performances in one’s hometown. This weekend’s (sold out) Vancouver debut recital by pianist Federico Colli, presented by The Vancouver Chopin Society, promises to be equally memorable. Looks like the concert season is off to a very healthy start in Vancouver.

 

 

 

Dispatch from Warsaw, October 20, 2021

A very mixed evening of very different approaches to the Chopin concerti.

Aimi Kobayashi played the first concerto with great dignity and majesty. Unfortunately, her tempo was a bit too stately, thereby robbing the music of its impetus at times. Overall, it was a performance of great polish, if a little lacking in emotion.

Polish pianist Jakub Kuszlik played the same concerto with poetry and a beautiful sound. Occasionally, his phrasing lapsed into dullness after episodes of great beauty. 

Hyuk Lee played the concerto in F minor with great beauty of sound. He is a poetic musician; I only wish that he would allow the music to breathe a bit more, so that the phrasing would not be quite as measured. 

A great ovation greeted Canadian Bruce Liu after he gave a pianistically brilliant performance of the concerto in E minor. 

As we wait for the decision of the jury, I have to confess that this has been one of the most musically intense and emotional week of my concert-going life. For me, the musician that moved me the most with the poetry and ardour of his playing, the maturity of his conception, and his collaborative approach in his concerto performance, has to be Kyohei Sorita. 

If I were backed against a wall, I would give the 1st prize to Sorita, 2nd to Leonora Armellini and 3rd to Bruce Liu. No doubt the distinguished jury would turn out to have a completely different view.

Dispatch from Warsaw, October 19, 2021

Canadian J. J. Jun Li But played a songful and ardent first concerto tonight. Unfortunately, he was playing all by himself, leaving the orchestra to follow, which they did magnificently, no easy task at all. In the third movement, he was rushing so much that the whole thing became an athletic contest, which was unfortunate, as he has some very good ideas for this movement. At this point, he is still very much a child relishing in his own pianistic abilities.

Alexander Gadjiev chose to play the F minor concerto, but his performance suffered from square phrasing and a lack of breathing room for the music. Right at the piano entrance of the first movement, he missed the rhetorical nature of the music. The return of the second theme in the recapitulation was done quite beautifully. The second movement fared much better, the sound was very good, and there was considerably more poetry. It was too bad that at the beautiful bassoon solo, he was somewhat detached from the melodic line. The third movement was lively, but the dance element of the music was missing.

The highlight of the evening was Martin Garcia Garcia's performance of the F minor concerto. There was lyricism, flexibility in phrasing, and considerable poetry. He listened to the orchestra, and there was a variety of sounds in his tone production tonight, although the loud passages sounded sometimes strident. In the slow movement, he succeeded in drawing us into Chopin's emotional world. The many runs in the right hand were ravishing, and the duet with the bassoonist was enchanting indeed. Garcia Garcia succeeded in highlighting the dance element of the third movement, the passagework was really breathtaking, and the sound of the solo piano was very much alive and rhythmically alert with the col legno string accompaniment. It was a brilliant and original performance of this somewhat underplayed (at least for the Chopin Competition) concerto.

The very talented Eva Gevorgyan played a pianistically perfect first concerto tonight. It was, however, a performance akin to someone highlighting a very beautiful work of art, rather than an intensely emotional experience. 

We have four more artists performing tomorrow evening, and then the jury members will be left with the very difficult decision of deciding who the best man, or woman, would be.

Dispatch from Warsaw, October 18, 2021

Four performances of Chopin's 1st piano concerto tonight, all very different.

Kamil Pacholec gave a straight forward performance of the concerto, with some moments of beauty. I find that he revels in the more overtly virtuoso passages of the concerto, rather than the lyrical ones.

I'm afraid Hao Rao's extroverted brand of showmanship (musically, not physically) was not my cup of tea. Brilliant as it sometimes was, it was, for me, short of poetry and subtlety. He seems to have two sounds- very loud and not very loud. Once in a while he used the una corda to get a softer sound, but it didn't work very well. There were some inexplicable things musically. At m. 573 of the 1st movement, when Chopin marked a tempo, Hao took a considerably slower tempo, I suppose to highlight the composer's dolce con expressione marking, but it hampered the musical flow considerably. At m. 103 of the Romance, I felt that he overdid the rallentando, once again halting the impetus of the music. Let me apologize here to his many fans, of which there seemed to have been many in the audience tonight.

The poet of the piano tonight was Kyohei Sorita, playing with an infinite variety of sounds within each phrase. In much of the passagework, he was playing chamber music with the orchestra, blending his sound within the orchestral texture. His turn of phrase at m. 601 of the 1st movement was absolutely moving. It was an absolutely ravishing, poetic, emotionally overwhelming performance of this great work. Whether or not he wins of the top prizes, there is no doubt in my mind that this is a great artist, a generous soul, and one of the most sensitive musicians in this competition.

Leonora Armellini's performance of the concerto also had much to offer. Her playing was not short on poetry, but I did find some of her phrasing a bit angular and brittle. For me, the highlight of her performance was the third movement, which was brilliantly done. 

A great deal of credit has to be given to the Warsaw Philharmonic Orchestra under Andrey Boreyko, who were sensitive and supportive collaborators in all four performances. Tonight's performance highlighted for me once again the absolute beauty and sensitivity of Chopin's orchestration. The writing for woodwinds is especially beautiful. 

This concerto marathon continues tomorrow and Wednesday, after which we would find out the long awaited results of what has proven to be a very interesting few weeks.

Dispatch from Warsaw, October 17, 2021

To commemorate the 172nd anniversary of the death of Chopin, there was a special performance of Mozart's Requiem, K. 626, tonight at the Basilica of Holy Cross in Warsaw, where Chopin's heart is reposed. The outstanding quartet of soprano Simona Saturova, alto Sara Mingardo, tenor Maximilian Schmitt and bass Jan Martinik, the Collegium Vocals 1704 and Collegium 1704, under the direction of Vaclav Luks, gave an emotionally charged performance of this towering work.

It seems pointless to discuss the merits - of which there are many - or problems in tonight's performance, suffice it to say sitting in that great basilica, hearing this heaven storming music, Mozart's prayer for the dead, was at times almost too much to bear.

As we slowly emerge from this global pandemic, I could not help but think that this was a Mass for all those who perished as a victim of this man-made global disaster. Every member of the audience was there as a part of the human family, hearing music that asks for eternal rest for those who died.

Beginning tomorrow, the 18th International Chopin Competition enters the final phase. Nine pianists will perform the composer's 1st piano concerto, and 3 brave souls will give their heart and soul in the 2nd piano concerto.

Who will be the new crown prince or princess of the music world? We will soon find out.

Dispatch from Warsaw - October 16, 2021

Every pianist in this morning session had something unique to offer. Competition veterans Nikolay Khozyaninov and Su Yeon Kim both delivered memorable performances.

For me, the revelation today was Aimi Kobayashi, who played the Op. 30 Mazurkas pitch perfectly, with impeccable rhythm in the C minor mazurka (No. 1), capturing the quirkiness of the rhythm and having a real sense of movement in the B minor mazurka (No. 2), bringing a multitude of colours and a strong rhythmic sense to the mazurka in D-flat major (No. 3), and beautifully handling the tricky triplet rhythmic figures in the mazurka in C-sharp minor (No. 4), bringing to this elusive work a beguiling wistfulness.

Instead of one of the sonatas, Kobayashi elected to play the complete set of Preludes (Op. 28), giving us a ravishing performance from beginning to end. In the C major prelude (No. 1), she does not overplay the agitato aspect of the music, but making it just quietly surging. She brought to the A minor prelude (No. 2) a very subtle sense of menace. Her playing of the G major prelude (No. 3) was exhilarating, joyous and breathtaking. The build up to the shattering climax in the E minor prelude (No. 4) was deftly handled. The prelude in D major (No. 5) was played as a single breath, and she infused the prelude in B minor (No. 6) with a effective sense of movement. The famous A major prelude (No. 7) was, simply, irresistibly charming. In the F-sharp minor prelude (No. 8) she does not overplay the storminess of the music, but brought to it a quiet sense of unrest. The E major prelude (No. 9) was played with great dignity and a rock solid tempo. She played the C-sharp minor prelude (No. 10) with breathtaking lightness and she brought out the euphonious beauty of the prelude in B major (No. 11). This was effectively contrasted with the wildness she brought to the prelude in G-sharp minor (No. 12). 

In the F-sharp major prelude (No. 13), the music floats above the beautifully played accompaniment figures in the left hand. There was real substance in the sound of the prelude in E-flat minor (No. 14), but the music never sounded heavy. In the justly famous D-flat major prelude (No. 15), she displayed a truly gorgeous singing tone, and beautifully transitioned into the relentless, almost compulsive funeral march. Kobayashi gave us a terrifically wild roller-coaster ride in the prelude in the B-flat minor prelude. In the prelude in A-flat major (No. 17) she beautifully shaped the arch-like melody in the beginning, and she highlighted the rhetorical nature of the prelude in F minor (No. 18). In the E-flat major prelude (No. 19) the music really took off as a bird in flight, and she infused the work with a beautiful lightness. She played the prelude in C minor (No. 20) with utter seriousness and solemnity, with some absolutely gorgeous voicing. She brought a truly beautiful cantabile to the prelude in B-flat major (No. 21), and contrasted it with the storminess of the G minor prelude (No. 22). The prelude in F major (No. 23) - always conjuring for me a picture of a sailboat on a calm sea - was light, breezy, and her pianissimos were beautiful. She certainly conjured up a veritable storm with her big bold sound in the D minor prelude (No. 24), but the sound was always round and rich, never percussive.

It is truly amazing that after repeated hearings of these so-familiar works, a great artist can still come along and move one to tears. For as long as our world exists, there will be great artists who can move us beyond the realm of everyday existence. On top of her pianistic attributes, Aimi Kobayashi's playing touches us in the deepest recess of our hearts. 

As a postscript, Canadian pianist Bruce Liu apparently received a standing ovation from the audience tonight. As we now await the results of the pianists who move into the final concerto round, let me just say once again what a privilege it has been to be witness to this episode of music history. I am certain that the concerto performances will again bring many emotional highs.

Dispatch from Warsaw - October 15, 2021

Even with missed flight, security check, jet lag and continuous mask-wearing, I was wide awake as I sat in Warsaw's Philharmonic Hall to await the beginning of this evening's session of the 3rd round of the 18th International Chopin Competition.

Italy/Slovenia's Alexander Gadjiev started the evening off with the Polonaise-Fantasie (Op. 61), in a performance that is filled with many beautiful episodes, but somehow lacking a coherence, an organic whole. The young artist has a gorgeous sound, perhaps in time he will penetrate more greatly the inner sorrow and heartbreak so inherent in this great work.

The Mazurkas (Op. 56) were elegant rather than soulful. In the C major (No. 2) Mazurka, I wished that there could have been more feeling of earthiness in the music.

The Sonata in B-flat minor (Op. 35) seemed to have been the favourite this evening. Gadjiev played up the urgency of the opening theme, but I wish that the repeat of the exposition could have more varied ideas. The scherzo was pianistically impressive with some interesting ideas in voicing. For me, this was his most moving playing this evening. I missed the dark sound that is so important in the opening of the famous funeral march, but he did play the middle section with a beautiful liquid sound. The finale was pianistically impeccable, but for me it could have even more of the feeling of the "cold wind blowing across the cemetery". 

American pianist Avery Gagliano created a completely different impression with her thoroughly moving Chopin playing. She has a smaller sound than Gadjiev, but that did not matter in the least. In the opening of the Sonata in B-flat minor (Op. 35), she conveyed much more of a sense of urgency, even crisis, a feeling of palpitation. She had some beautiful ideas in the left hand accompaniment figures in this first movement, and she gave the lyrical second theme a quiet dignity. I appreciated the ruggedness she brought to the opening of the scherzo. Her B section did not have quite as beautiful a sound as Gadjiev, but it was somehow more moving. She took me much more into the inner world of this music. In the funeral march, she again penetrated into the composer's creative soul. The middle section of the funeral march was played rhythmically strict, but she conveyed a quiet, hushed beauty that demanded our attention. It was intensely moving. In the finale, she did achieve the feeling of the chill wind sweeping the cemetery, and her little surges of sound added to the cries of anguish. 

To my ears, Gagliano's playing of the same Op. 56 set of Mazurkas were rhythmically, musically and stylistically superior to Gadjiev's. In the first mazurka she captured the quirky rhythmic quality of the opening as well as the intricate counterpoint. I did smell the smell of the Polish earth with her playing of the second mazurka, and she played the third mazurka with a quiet sense of melancholy, as well as with magical transitions from one musical idea to the next.

It is incredible that Gagliano managed to bring something new and fresh to the much played Scherzo in B-flat minor, Op. 31. Most importantly, she brought to this work many shades of sound and drew from an infinite palate of tone colours. 

Martin Garcia Garcia (Spain) is a young man with strong musical instincts and interesting ideas. He opened his recital with the Prelude in A-flat major (Op. 28, No. 17) with strangely stiff phrasing, failing to convey the arch-like quality of the melody. I appreciated the lightness he brought to the Prelude in E-flat major (Op. 28, No. 19). In the Prelude in F major (Op. 28, No. 23), I would have worried less about the details, about trying to bring out every musical nuance, but trying to convey more the flow of the music. 

In the only performance of the Sonata in B minor (Op. 58), he played the opening of the 1st movement in an arresting manner. The second theme, which was beautifully played, sounded to me far too loud on the Fazioli, his instrument of choice. For me, the transition of musical ideas could be infused with greater meaning. He played the scherzo absolutely beautifully, with a breathtaking lightness and a whirlwind-like quality. The Largo was again beautifully played; personally I yearn for greater penetration into the emotional core of the music, but he did handled the transition of musical ideas very nicely indeed. Somehow the brief pause between the 3rd and 4th movement broke the spell of the gorgeous slow movement, but he did immediately capture the molto perpetuo, relentless quality of the movement. It was impressive, even glittering playing indeed, in much of the passagework. 

In the first two of the Op. 50 mazurkas, there was almost a waltz-like quality which isn't (to me) quite right for playing of mazurkas, and the C-sharp minor mazurka (No. 3) lacked the wistful feeling in the beginning. In the Prelude in C-sharp minor (Op. 45), he missed the Faure-like harmonic transition that gives this piece such a special beauty. However, his playing of the Waltz in F major (Op. 34, No. 3) with absolute charm and panache, relishing every turn of phrase with the same eagerness of a kid waiting his turn at cops and robbers.

Russia's Eva Gevorgyan is very obviously a big talent. She opened her recital with the Fantasy in F minor (Op. 49) with an interpretation of utter seriousness, which is of course one possible and very valid interpretation, but for me there could have been more of a sense of storytelling to this piece, a feeling of a tragedy unfolding.

Kudos to her for having the courage in playing the earlier set of Mazurkas (Op. 17), opening with a stylistically sound interpretation of the first mazurka. In the second and third mazurkas, I had a bit of trouble with the accents she applied to the music, but she did play the A minor (No. 4) mazurka with the perfect sense of wistfulness, of quiet sadness, looking very much inwardly into the music.

Her aggressive, take-no-prisoner approach to the opening of the Sonata in B-flat minor (Op. 35) was actually very effective, and it contrasted quiet nicely with the beautifully played lyrical second theme, although I found that the first statement of this theme could be played in a more straight forward manner. It was, on the whole, a performance that demanded our attention. I did again wish for more different dimensions in her sound. The scherzo was played with quite a bit of tempi changes, which for me hampered some of the natural flow of the music. Gevorgyan's playing of the funeral march, especially in the middle section, was in many way more beautiful than Gagliano's. Emotionally, I did still find Gagliano's interpretation more moving. Even her brilliant playing of the finale was more glittering than frightening. That said, Gevorgyan's pianism was truly impressive, and in time, the sky could be the limit for this very gifted young artist.

As I sat in that hall, I was suddenly overcome with feeling, thinking of the great pianists who had played in that hallowed hall. What a privilege it is to be present and be witness to music history in the making.

Until tomorrow.