LIM YAN Piano Recital / Review

LIM YAN Piano Recital

Esplanade Recital Studio

Last Tuesday (15 December 2020)

This review was published in The Straits Times on 23 December 2020

 

There has not been a public piano recital in Singapore since 14 February, when Korean pianist Kun Woo Paik took to the stage of Victoria Concert Hall. Even the annual Singapore International Piano Festival had to be deferred. Thus it seemed like poetic justice that the festival’s artistic director, Lim Yan, became the first pianist to perform a recital since the lifting of the Covid circuit breaker.

 

In front of a socially-distanced and masked audience of 50, he offered a sparkling programme of mostly short pieces. The single-movement sonatas of Domenico Scarlatti made perfect starters, and Lim chose three less familiar numbers, all in the key of D major. It takes an imaginative artist to lend them freshness, and he succeeded by varying tonal colour, textures and mood.

 

Although originally conceived for harpsichord, feather-light digital brilliance was well translated into more sustained sonorities for the piano. His prodigious repeated note technique in the faster numbers simulated the guitar and castanets, while rapidly shifting chords evoked the pealing of bells.

 

In between two Scarlattis, Lim sneaked in the three movements of Haydn’s Sonata No.37 in D major. The baroque era merged almost imperceptibly into the classical age, as the Austrian master’s exuberant opening fanfares and grace notes recalled an earlier epoch. Light-hearted chatter and unceasing wit ruled, with only a more sombre slow movement providing contrast.  

 

There was no intermission for the recital. In its place was an engaging show-and-tell session which neatly linked the recital’s three composers, hosted by Yang Shuxiang, taking an unexpected academic excursion from his usual persona as violin virtuoso.

 

The recital concluded with Rachmaninov’s later Op.32 set of Préludes Lim astutely prefaced this with the Russian’s early and infamous C sharp minor Prélude (Op.3 No.2), sometimes called the “Bells of Moscow”, the wisdom of which would be later revealed. What followed was a kaleidoscopic show of the piano’s myriad possibilities in some of the repertoire’s most technically challenging pieces.

 

Lim’s grasp of the idiom was faultless, conquering the thorny mini masterpieces with an almost nonchalant aplomb, while always attuned to undercurrents of Slavic brooding and melancholy. A reference to the earlier pieces came in the skittish A minor Prélude (No.8), its fleet-fingered figurations and crossing of hands were reminiscent of Scarlatti.

 

The two preludes better-known to casual listeners, in G major and G sharp minor (Nos.5 and 12), were handled with love and care, their limpid lyricism shining through. The set would reach a climax in the B minor Prélude (No.10), with impassioned passages of chiming carillons which also characterised the lucky No.13. This valedictory piece completed a full circle which began with C sharp minor and closed in D flat major, both enharmonic related keys. Theory aside, these considerations are why a well-planned programme of music sounds so pleasing - and harmonious - to our ears.  

This recital was presented by the Kris Foundation, in celebration of its 10th anniversary supporting the arts in Singapore.

I HAVE NO CHRISTMAS TREE BUT...

I DON’T HAVE A CHRISTMAS TREE BUT....

 

I don’t have a Christmas tree in my apartment but in the true spirit of the festive season, I have erected a shrine. This is an altar which no self-respecting pianophile should be without, one dedicated to the patron saints of the performing pianist.

 

They are none other than St Sviatoslav and St Martha, having recently been canonised by the Most Holy Pontiff of Piano Virtuosity, Pope Marc-André. Incidentally, Pope Marc-André is the first non-Italian Pope having come from Montreal, Canada. He succeeded a whole long line of Italian popes, who have included Pope Ferruccio Dante Michelangelo (died 1924), Pope Arturo Benedetti (died 1995) and Pope Maurizio (still alive but not in the best of health, or playing ability for that matter).

Anyway, back to the Saints. St Sviatoslav, originally from Ukraine, never came to Singapore. Having cancelled every single engagement to play at Victoria Concert Hall, he always preferred to perform in some barn in France before his ascension to the nether reaches. 

St Martha, originally from Argentina, is a living saint. She made two appearances at Esplanade Concert Hall in June 2018, her only visit to the island republic to date. No one has filled the hall like she did since other living saint St Lang (originally of Shenyang, China) and only the likes of St Yuja (Beijing), St Evgeny (Russia), St Leif Ove (Norway) or St Mitsuko (Japan) could possibly displace the greatness and hotness of St Martha. At the moment, they are minor living saints in comparison to the almighty St Martha.

Finally, it should be said that the shrine to St Sviatoslav and St Martha looks just about perfect at night and in dim lighting, much like of the former’s barn recitals. So here it is in the illumination of a single glowing candle, for the Debussyan effect of Les soirs illumines par l’ardeur du charbon, or something to that effect.  

So come on bended knee and worship. All hail...  

Don't you think this looks much better?

By the way, HAVE A BLESSED CHRISTMAS & MAY THE NEXT YEAR 2021 BE A BETTER ONE. Frankly, it could not be any worse, except for maybe fans of Arsenal Football Club. 

OF MUSIC AND SOUND / Ding Yi Music Company / Review

OF MUSIC AND SOUND

Ding Yi Music Company

Esplanade Recital Studio

Sunday 13 December 2020

 

Chinese instrumental music has from time immemorial been associated with programmatic music. The music performed always tells a story, describes a scene or depicts some drama. The notion of absolute music, such as encountered in Western music (symphonies, concertos, sonatas and the like), is a relatively new phenomenon in Chinese music, and this World Premiere by Ding Yi Music Company was to be no exception.

 

Of Music And Sound, was an hour-long work comprising an introduction and five connected movements. Composed by Composer-in-Residence Phang Kok Jun and augmented with sound engineering/design by Zai Tang, the music followed the course of a single day in the tropics (presumably Singapore), from a nascent dawn to the rising sun of the next day. Unlike previous concept concerts, there were neither projected visuals nor verbal commentary, and the audience was invited to use just their ears and imbibe whatever transpired.

 

Ambient sounds of nature – exotic birdsong, amphibious croaks, whirring insects - ushered in the Introduction as musicians and conductor Quek Ling Kiong took to their places onstage. Near total darkness gradually gave way to light in the first movement Dawn, which quoted the Chinese song Gao Shan Liu Shui (Mountains and Flowing Water). The erhu sang, followed by sheng, pipa and dizi, as the day awakened. The music is serene and atmospheric, then segueing seamlessly into a more animated second movement Rain, a study on different kinds of precipitation. A storm erupted with suona in full tilt before calm was restored with a big tune.

 

The third and central movement Dusk was a kind of reverse John Cage 4’33”, as the entire orchestra downed instruments and donned eye-shades. This was a mirror of the audience which had already been primed, both masked and “blinded”. For the next few minutes, and in the dimmest of lighting (if one chose to peek), Zai’s vividly recorded soundscapes, collected from MacRitchie Reservoir, Bukit Brown cemetery and the rail corridor, took centrestage. Claustrophobia might have been an outcome if not for the hypnotic effect provided by Nature. So this is what the Gaia sounds like when all homo sapien activity has passed, temporarily or for all eternity.

 

The fourth movement Night was a scherzo of sorts, alive and buzzing with energy. Its exuberance almost suggested some of the land’s more risque nightspots, Geylang anybody? Darkness descended again, as sure as night followed day. But there was no silence, a solo erhu’s lament punctured the air before a New Dawn, the finale arrived. There was another big melody, an apotheosis, before the sound melted away. So did the musicians, as the ranks depopulated like in Haydn’s Farewell Symphony, leaving only Yvonne Tay and her guzheng the sole presence on stage.

     

In On Music and Sound, young Singaporean composer Phang Kok Jun had created his own personal version of the Pastoral Symphony. Given that this month marks the 250^th anniversary of Beethoven’s birth (16 December to be precise), this act of homage could not have been more apt.   

LETTERS TO MOZART / Jo Anne Sukumaran & Friends

LETTERS TO MOZART

Jo Anne Sukumaran,

Artistic Director & Producer

Online Concert

Recorded at Victoria Concert Hall

Premiered on 5 & 6 November 2020

 

This is the season when children write letters to Santa Claus. Young Singaporean bassoonist Jo Anne Sukumaran, inspired by a visit to Mozart’s grave/memorial at Vienna’s St Marx cemetery, has conceived an intimate chamber concert of Mozart’s music, with the call for viewers to pen their own letters to Mozart. This is a unique angle to present music in an informal and unstuffy manner. Aided by presenter Priscilla Foong’s smiling and friendly disposition, this made a fresh contrast to the arch-seriousness of usual classical concerts.

 

The first half opened with the String Quartet in C major (K.465), nicknamed “Dissonance” because of the sombre introduction to its first movement. Even the tonality sounds indeterminate, shifting uneasily between minor keys before emerging into the happy sunshine of C major. Mozart had his listeners spooked then, and he continues to surprise. The work in four movements received a lively and heartfelt reading from the young quartet of Joey Lau and Natalie Koh (violins), Jeremy Chiew (viola) and Tang Jia (cello), paying heed to the various nuances posed by the ever-witty and mercurial composer.

 

The second half saw highlights from Mozart operas transcribed by Franz Danzi for bassoon and cello, with Jo Anne doing the honours accompanied by cellist Tang. Included were Voi che sapete (The Marriage of Figaro) and the duet Ah perdona al primo affetto (La Clemenza di Tito). The soprano’s lyrical lines translated well for the avuncular and deeper registers of the bassoon, and the duet came off particularly well.  

 

For the closing act, the bassoon took the place of the flute in the Quartet No.1 in G major (K.285). Thus it became an altogether different work, the flute’s celestial chirpiness replaced by the bassoon’s earthy garrulousness. The musicians’ diligence and persuasiveness made it work, proving again that Mozart’s genius often transcended instrumental constraints.

 

Interspersed between movements and works were excerpts from letters by Mozart, read by SSO French hornist Jamie Hersch, music critic/lecturer Marc Rochester, arts impresario Lionel Choi, and Singapore’s grammy-nominated conductor Darrell Ang. All in all, this was an enjoyable and light-hearted way to appreciate Mozart’s music, and have you thought of your own letter to Mozart?    

 

You can view this digital concert at:

https://linktr.ee/jewelair2.0 

 

Here’s my humble personal letter to Mozart:

 

Why did you leave so soon?

Thirty-five years was far too short,

fleeting like a fiery comet,

gone in a flash.

Had you stayed another twenty,

a mighty rivalry with Beethoven beckoned,

Amadean elegance and

Ludwigean passion. 

Witness the sparks fly. 

Schubert should have been your student.

Inspiring each other,

your Lieder and his operas,

Vienna awash in song.

Past your sixty-fifth year,

what were your thoughts of young Chopin?

On experiencing Lisztomania in full stride,

or pardoning the bombasts of Berlioz.

Time is a cruel master,

but we thank the Master.

He even afforded us time

with your divine presence.