MUSIC OF
LOVE AND DEATH
DANIEL
GLOVER Piano Recital
Esplanade
Recital Studio
Monday (19 August 2013 )
Honestly, I had never heard of American pianist
Daniel Glover before this recital. His name reminded me of the black dude who
played Detective Sergeant Murtaugh opposite Mel Gibson in those Lethal Weapon movies. That’s one guy who
packs a mean punch besides breaking into a wisecrack or two. However when I
learnt that his recital included movements from Granados’s Goyescas and never-played-in-Singapore-before Wagner piano
transcriptions, my interest was piqued. His recordings of Liszt, Spanish works
and virtuoso Russian transcriptions on his own CD label DG2 were impressive
enough, and so that warranted a Monday evening away from the family.
The recital began with the Bach-Busoni Chaconne, and Glover certainly knows how
to create an outsized organ-like sonority on the Steinway in the reverberant
Esplanade Recital Studio. He has a good grasp of the work’s architecture, which
built into a great arch-like edifice. I liked the way he brought out some
hidden voices, mostly from the left hand. Although he wasn’t technically
infallible, that did not seem like a big issue because the music simply flowed.
Next came two contrasting Chopin works. The
lovely little Berceuse was very
steady and sturdy; the left hand chords resounded bell-like, over which the
right hand filigree was spun with much evenness. This was prelude to the Second Sonata in B flat minor (Op.35), a
performance which had the requisite drama one could have hoped for. Again,
Glover’s power and sound projection did not disappoint. He played the 1st
movement repeat, and rightly included the opening Grave introduction. The sense of urgency and tragedy was well
captured, continuing unabated into the rumbling Scherzo. The well-known Funeral
March formed the work’s emotional core, its procession built to a mighty
climax, contrasted with a cantabile central section in D flat major that
provided a soothing balm. The brief and mysterious finale – uncannily described
as wind over the graveyard – was a one-way journey to the abyss, bringing the
work to a stunning close. For me, this represented the evening’s best moments,
fully living up to the concert’s title.
After the intermission, Glover spoke at length
about Granados and his unfortunate watery demise in 1916, after being torpedoed
by the Germans (der schwein) with
American gold bullion weighing down his jacket. He played the Second Book of Goyescas, which comprised the Balada (Love and Death) and the epilogue, The Spectral Serenade. Both are dramatic and extended movements, a
complete reversal of the fortunes in the first four movements of the First
Book. Themes and motifs from the earlier pieces were rehashed and revived in
the overwrought melange that is the Balada,
and the Epilogo to a certain extent.
And if one did not recognise those motifs, the episodic nature of the pieces
may not have made much sense. That was the warning provided by Glover, and to
his credit, he did attempt to make it sound like a coherent whole.  |
| Richard Wagner, Louis Brassin & Karl Tausig. |
About the Wagner excerpts, these are Singaporean
premieres, to my best knowledge. Surprisingly he did not include the Isoldes Liebestod from Tristan und Isolde, but three pieces
from Die Walküre. The Magic Fire Music arranged by Louis
Brassin is devilish to say the least, and there was some approximate playing in
those upward sweeping arpeggios in various intervals, and the music wanted for
some ethereal lightness. Better was Karl Tausig’s transcription of Siegmund’s Aria from Act One, which truly
sang. Then came that impossible arrangement by Tausig of the Flight of the Valkyries, which almost
came to grief at one point (Fright of the Valkyries?) but there was no want of
trying. Whatever happened, Glover never lost control of the left hand’s big
melody, even if it came in spadesful of octaves played at an unrelenting speed.
He finished in one piece, and garnered a tumultuous ovation for his efforts.
Glover’s encores were lovely, first Liszt’s Liebestraume No.3 – full of romantic
ardour – and the little known Jazzy
from Aaron Copland’s Three Moods, a
delightful trifle that sent the audience home happy.
