Showing posts with label 20th Singapore International Piano Festival. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 20th Singapore International Piano Festival. Show all posts

Monday, 24 June 2013

DANIEL-BEN PIENAAR Piano Recital / 20th Singapore International Piano Festival / Review




DANIEL-BEN PIENAAR Piano Recital
20th Singapore International Piano Festival
SOTA Concert Hall
Friday (21 June 2013)

This review was published in The Straits Times on 24 June 2013 with the title "Bach with pizzazz".

The thought of J.S.Bach’s Preludes and Fugues, frequent subjects of piano examinations and competitions, often sends young people recoiling with horror and into post-traumatic stress with the memory of futile music lessons and the inevitable knuckle-rapping. Thus the notion of sitting through 24 of these in a single concert is a daunting prospect, sure recipe for tedium and indigestion.

Or so we thought. Bach specialists on the piano like Angela Hewitt and Andras Schiff have made it a life mission to perform both books of The Well-Tempered Clavier en bloc to adoring devotees worldwide. And so has debutant to the Singapore International Piano Festival, the South Africa-born and London-based pianist Daniel-Ben Pienaar, who offered the entire First Book in one sitting.

Each book begins with a paired Prelude and Fugue in sunny C major, and works its way through alternating major and minor keys by ascending a semitone with each number, and closing in the sombre key of B minor. The first Prelude is the most familiar, a play on the simple C major triad. Yet when Pienaar played, it sounded radically different. Absurdly fast was the first thought that came to mind.

However it is known that Bach left no tempo or dynamic markings, thus allowing the performer the freest rein to indulge in whatever fancies. Clearly this was the invitation to an account that is unencumbered by convention or tradition, one that assailed and piqued the senses. Like the late Glenn Gould before him, Pienaar was determined to make the listener hear with different ears.

And it worked, largely because he is a sensitive soul allied with the keenest sense of imagination. Without going into the minutiae of each piece, the set was delivered as a breezy whole that kept one riveted throughout. The contrapuntal playing was projected with utter clarity. Nothing sounded preserved or pre-cooked, and he rarely applied the same seasonings to each piece.

Varying the tonal palette, he could make the piano sound as light as a harpsichord in the fast toccata-like preludes. Applying more pedal, he also created organ-like sonorities for the slower fugues, and because the piano was foreign to Bach’s era, each number became a transcription freshly minted.

As to the various moods conjured up in the evening, there was a cornucopia’s worth. Moody elegies alternated with joyous and energised dances, and the improvisatory feel applied to many of the pieces gave the uncanny impression of a jazzman at work. Whoever thought that of crusty old Papa Johann Sebastian?   

Pienaar’s return with the Second Book of the WTC 48 is keenly awaited.      

   

Saturday, 22 June 2013

YEVGENY SUDBIN Piano Recital / 20th Singapore International Piano Festival / Review



YEVGENY SUDBIN Piano Recital
20th Singapore International Piano Festival
SOTA Concert Hall
Thursday (20 June 2013)

This review was published in The Straits Times on 22 June 2013 with the title "Sudbin amazes at piano fest opening".

The 20th edition of the venerated Singapore International Piano Festival opened with a recital by a pianist that reflects the spirit and ethos of the nation’s premier keyboard event. Young Russian Yevgeny Sudbin is on the rising arc of a considerable concert career. He is an artist unafraid to take on unusual and adventurous recital programmes to challenge and to provoke.

Although the underlying theme of this festival was “Music and Movement”, with an acknowledged nod to the dance genre, Sudbin centred his recital on varying states of mood and mind. With it, he pondered on life, with its joys and toils, and mortality. An entire half of Franz Liszt’s music encapsulated this viewpoint.

Opening with Funerailles (from the cycle of Poetic And Religious Harmonies), its tolling bells were deliberately oppressive rather than exultant. Through this arose an air of nobility, representing his downtrodden Hungarian kin and their call to arms. The hair-raising episode of stampeding octaves was judged to perfection, which was later echoed by the Tenth Transcendental Study in F minor that closed the set.

In between both works was pure poetry, flowing lyricism in Petrarch’s Sonnet No.104 which decried Pace non trovo (I Find No Peace), and the ever-expanding chords of Harmonies du soir (Evening Harmonies) which reassured all was well in the world. The audience’s insistence of applauding between each piece must have distracted, interrupting Sudbin’s train of thought for the beginning of the closing etude in order to take a bow. A minor memory lapse was an unfortunate result.

There were thankfully no such intrusions in the second half, which began with a portrayal of grief in two minor key Scarlatti Sonatas – beautifully realised - and Sudbin’s own transcription of the Lacrimosa from Mozart’s Requiem. In the latter, he explored harmonies and resonances more far-ranging than Liszt himself.

The final part of the recital was devoted to the pleasurable state of ecstasy. Debussy’s L’Isle Joyeuse delighted in series of trills and rhythmic thrills, exhibiting an innocent happiness with a rapturous tumble to the bottom of the keyboard. Quite different was Scriabin’s Fifth Sonata, sometimes called “The Poem of Ecstasy”, for its fulminant, carnal outbursts and flame-throwing to the highest registers.

Sudbin possessed the requisite technique and rapier-quick reflexes to make both pieces work. Comparisons with the legacies of Richter and Horowitz are not out of place here. Three encores, by Scriabin, Scarlatti and Sudbin’s own tongue-in-cheek and uproariously vulgar conflation of Chopin’s Minute Waltz (by way of Hungarian show-boater György Cziffra and Ravel’s La Valse) had the audience in stitches.

The reaction of amazement and sometimes disbelief is one regularly encountered in this festival over the last two decades. Long may that continue.