17th Singapore International Piano Festival 2010
23-26 June 2010
Victoria Concert Hall
Day 1. In this age of colossal piano talent, Wang Yuja can hold her own with any of her fellow colossii. She dazzles, excites, thrills, and ultimately overwhelms her audience with aural spectacle, and, yes, she's very musical as well. What impresses is that she has a conception of each piece she plays, where the individual pieces lie and how they can be made to fit together into a convincing whole. Although these qualities were not always present during her fine recital Wednesday night at Singapore's Victoria Concert Hall, they were best exhibited during the Prokofiev Piano Sonata No. 6, a big work that can easily degenerate into fierce technical displays and lapse into frisson. To her credit, Wang Yuja was aware that she had to provide color, changes of pace, dynamics, and varieties of sound; just banging it out wouldn't do. Ultimately, her performance was not only exciting, but was also interesting and authentic.
This same approach didn't work nearly as well in Chopin's Piano Sonata No. 2, but the fault here might be more mine that Wang Yuja's. I heard Maurizio Pollini play this same work in Carnegie Hall in April, and his stately reading mirrors my conception of how this great work should sound. I can't blame Wang Yuja if she sees things differently. Beginning loud and faster than I remember hearing this work played, Wang Yuja quickly established that she was going to make this big work even bigger, and she never let up. It was too intense for my taste, even though some of the softer and slower passages, taken in isolation, were played sensitively and beautifully, At only 22-years of age, this is exactly where I would expect Wang Yuja to be. Given 20 more years (a safe prediction for me inasmuch as I won't be around to be accountable), Wang Yuja will slow things down, quiet things a bit, and exhibit a more introspective resolve to uncover the beauty and meaning of this great work. For the present, it is easy to enjoy Wang Yuja's exuberance.
Two sets of short pieces, one by Scriabin, the other by Schubert/Liszt, enclosed the major Prokofiev and Chopin works. Wang Yuja has a feel for Scriabin and I would like to hear her play some of his longer works. Liszt's arrangements of three of Schubert's lieder, although flawlessly played, were a little too robust and reminded me that the piano is a percussive instrument, which is not, I think, what either Schubert or Liszt (I'm not that sure of Liszt) had in mind.
For encores, and in response to thunderous applause from an adoring audience, Wang Yuja gave a ravishingly beautiful performance of a Chopin waltz, a fluid, articulated and exciting exhibition of a Scarlatti sonata, and, just to make sure that the audience would become exhausted (I don't think that Wang Yuja ever tires) and not ask for even more, she ended the evening with a powerful and magnificent playing of the first movement of Stravinsky’s Putrushka. Well, it didn't work: the clapping continued even after Wang Yuja departed the stage and the house lights were turned on.
A Chopin Love Affair
Day 2. There are romance novels, love affairs on the silver screen, and endless TV programs about romantic infatuations. But, what about the concert hall? Not likely, unless you listen to Pietro de Maria play Chopin. This tall, young and handsome Italian, dressed in immaculate tails, sits down at the Steinway and seduces Chopin with a touching love and beauty that is bound to seduce the audience as well. Judging by the reception he received at the sold out Victoria Concert Hall last night, he was 100% successful.
The danger is that overly romantic playing can easily become smaltzy a la Liberace or Lang Lang. To avoid this takes superb musicianship and structure, both of which qualities Pietro de Maria has in abundance. After a slight rough start with Chopin's Ballade No. 1, de Maria sensitively performed the remaining three to complete the first half of his program. Where required, de Maria abandoned any hint of moonlit nights, and tossed off the many fast and loud passages of the ballades with a strength that exhibited Chopin at his masculine best.
The second half of the program was devoted to one long work, Chopin's Sonata No. 3. A sonata, the quintessential classical music form, needs to have a grand idea behind its performance, and to my mind, Pietro de Maria delivered just the right amount of planning and spontaneity to move this intricate work successfully through his hands. I had the feeling that de Maria might be hearing himself play the sonata for the first time, that he had permitted the music to take control and guide him, but always within the bounds of good taste, the score, and enough restraint so that we knew we were listening to Chopin and not to de Maria.
For encores, Pietro de Maria played a Scarlatti sonata with simply gorgeous sound, Liszt's "La Campanella," a Chopin nocturne, and finally, Chopin's Scherzo No. 2. The encores alone were worth the evening. I think it is fair to say that the audience was as enthusiastic as I am.
Benjamin Grosvenor---A Good Argument for Reincarnation
The Liszt sonata is a complex piece of music that taxes the extremes of musical maturity to bring off. Of course there are the demands of technical difficulty to master, but lots of pianists are able to play its many notes very well. With Grosvenor, this staple of the repertory resides not only in his hands, but also in his head, and therein lies the achievement of last night's performance. Profound is the adjective that suggests itself to me as best suited to describe Grosvenor’s concept and execution. Mood changes, dynamic shifts, rhythmic variations, tempo nuances, and a flawless technique, all combined to serve Grosvenor's successful search to find meaning in this, Liszt's only sonata. Grosvenor opened doors in this work that might otherwise have remained closed and in so doing, infused the music with beauty.
Grosvenor began his recital with three etudes by the contemporary Russian composer Nikolai Kapustin. Although a favorite of some young pianists, I find Kapustin cartoonish and his blend of jazz and traditional compositional forms leave me uninterested. From a purely pianistic standpoint, the etudes present performance challenges that a pianist as good as Grosvenor can use to good effect. If I have to listen to Kapustin, I would choose to do so via Grosvenor.
This year's theme of the 17th Singapore International Piano Festival is "Chopin at 200," and Grosvenor’s contribution was two nocturnes and the Scherzo No. 3. Grosvenor’s sensitive, introspective interpretations of the two nocturnes were fittingly touching, while the Scherzo, although very well played, was a little too brittle and crisp in the fast octave passages for my taste, but overall, his execution was consistent with superb Chopin performance.
Ravel's Gaspard de la nuit is so far removed from Liszt’s B minor sonata, that one wonders how any pianist can make the switch. After all, Liszt played like Ravel, or vice versa, is disaster itself, a trap that many less talented performers with only one sound to offer, fall into. Predictably, Grosvenor put on his impressionist hat, and painted musical colors, moods, bursts, and great waves and cascades, that left the listener in whatever mood his or her imagination could create for itself. No comment need be made of Grosvenor’s flawless negotiation of the impossible technical demands of the piece; I had taken them for granted long ago.
Grosvenor signs Buzz's CD
Piotr Anderszewski Plays a Non-Chopin Program
Day 4. The most famous of the participants in this year’s 17th Singapore Piano Festival, was Piotr Anderszewski, yet I found his recital problematical, due mainly to his programming choices. On paper it looked good: Bach, Karol Szymanowski, Schumann and Beethoven, but in performance it didn’t come off quite as I expected.
I know I can’t complain about Bach, but his English Suites are not among his most ingratiating works. I have a CD of them performed, I think, by Gould, but, given the choice, I usually listen instead to the French Suites, the Partitas, or the Goldberg Variations. Anderszewski played English Suite No. 5 with sensitivity and warmth, but I was left wishing to hear some new insight, which I found lacking.
Karol Szymanowski is now regarded as Poland’s most famous composer after Chopin and, over the years, I’ve attended recitals where one or more of his short works were performed. His music is difficult to listen to and not readily accessible, but Szymanowski’s Metopes, Op. 29, selected by Anderszewski, has got to be among Szymanowski’s most dense. Indeed, Anderszewski tells in his program notes how, after much playing, he found a beautiful, but hidden, line within a Szymanowski piece. Well, I just don’t have the time or the inclination to search Szymanowski for these hidden beauties.
In the same vane of hidden (hoped-for) masterpieces, was Robert Schumann’s Six Studies in Canonic Form, Op 56. Yes, it sounded like it could have been composed by the great Schumann, but there is a reason it is seldom performed, and Anderszewski didn’t provide any reason to elevate this obscure work to a more prominent position.
By the time Anderszewski reached the last work of his recital program, I was, frankly, bored, and felt somewhat sorry for those sports fans in attendance who were missing the World Cup. Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 31 has been recorded by Anderszewski and is played frequently by him. He’s got it down pat. It was a structured, fluent, and absorbing performance, one which demonstrates why Anderszewski is one of our leading pianists. Unfortunately, this wasn’t his night, or maybe it wasn’t mine. Take your pick,
posted by Buzz at 1:51 PM
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