BALLADES & OTHER STORIES / Erik T.Tawaststjerna, Piano / Review

BALLADES

& OTHER STORIES

Erik T. Tawaststjerna, Piano

Alba Records 437

 

Good recordings of Chopin’s four Ballades have become a dime a dozen. These are usually coupled on disc with his four Scherzi, or Second or Third Sonatas, or a combination of late pieces such as the Fantasie, Berceuse and Barcarolle. Veteran Finnish pianist and academic Erik T. Tawaststjerna takes a different route, choosing instead to present the Ballades cheek by jowl with works of four contemporary Finnish composers. The results are a revelation, also a feast for the ears.

 

Chopin’s Ballades were composed with supposed literary inspirations, as tone poems which tell a story. There is a narrative quality, beginning with an introduction, leading to the main body’s discourse, before closing with a rapturous coda. Components of these are mirrored in the Finnish works, whose composers are gradually becoming part of the classical music mainstream.

 

Einojuhani Rautavaara (1928-2016) is arguably the best-known Finnish composer after Sibelius.  His Second Sonata (1970), dramatically titled The Fire Sermon, is his most performed piano work. True to the Scriabinesque title, its three short movements (fast-slow-fast) explore dissonant harmonies and sound textures (particularly tone clusters and echoing resonances), ostinato rhythms while remaining tonal and even lyrical for long stretches. Like the already popular Ligeti Etudes, Dutilleux Sonata and Carl Vine Sonata No.1, this work will soon have its day. With Rautavaara, one finds similar moods and emotions echoed in the Chopin First Ballade that follows, despite being in a totally different idiom. This is how the album works, by alternating disparate works and finding commonalities in shared inspirations.

 

The Jubilees (2000) by Magnus Lindberg (born 1958) were written for Pierre Boulez’s 75^th birthday, Nos. 6 & 3 selected here are the only atonal pieces in this collection, both brief and aphoristic. The Ballade (2005) of Kaija Saariaho (born 1952) was commissioned by Emanuel Ax to be played alongside Chopin’s Ballades, its brooding 6 minutes being the closest thing to a tone poem for piano. The Helsinki-based Canadian-Finnish composer Matthew Whittall (born 1975) is represented by two movements from Leaves of Grass: 12 Preludes after Walt Whitman (2005-2009). These are exquisite miniatures, the mysterious scintillations of On the Beach at Night contrasted with A Noiseless Patient Spider which curiously juxtaposes bell-like sonorities with short sequences of gamelan-like music.

 

As an interpreter of Finnish piano music, Tawaststjerna (the son of Sibelius’ biographer) is a peerless guide. Heard alongside his equally sympathetic readings of the Chopin warhorses, this is a rare album to treasure.

 

ERIK T. TAWASTSTJERNA Piano Recital / Review

ERIK T. TAWASTSTJERNA Piano Recital

Yong Siew Toh Conservatory Concert Hall

Wednesday (2 March 2016)

This review was published in The Straits Times on 4 March 2016 with the title "Perfect Finnish to a memorable outing".

If the name Erik Tawaststjerna sounded familiar, that is because he was the Finnish composer Jean Sibelius' most important biographer. Erik T. Tawaststjerna is his pianist son, who is Head of Piano Studies in Helsinki's Sibelius Academy. Very appropriately, the first half of the younger Tawaststjerna's piano recital was devoted wholly to Finnish music.

Two of Magnus Lindberg's six Jubilees opened the evening, immersing the ears with plangent chords and sequences of fluid running notes. Although atonal in conception, there was  an unusual warmth to the 6^th Jubilee, which dissolved into the fidgety triplets of the 3rd Jubilee, almost a study of virtuosic fingerwork.

The survey of miniatures continued into Sibelius' five Esquisses (Sketches), his last works for the piano, contemporaneous with the Sixth and Seventh Symphonies. If the 1^st and 5^th of these resembled bagatelles, it was three central pieces – titled Winter Scene, Forest Lake and Forest Song – that came across like granite-like fragments hewn from his mighty symphonies and tone poems. The austere harmonies and chilling demeanour of themes were classic Sibelius, persuasively brought out by a specialist who has recorded the composer's complete piano output.

Altogether lighter was Sibelius' own transcription of his popular strings hit, Valse Triste from incidental music to the play Kuolema. A gentle waltz rhythm, melancholic melody and spectral swirling figures contributed to its sickly sweet scent. Far from being the unwitting salon favourite, this was a work about death. Despite Tawaststjerna's ardent advocacy on the keyboard, one somehow misses those sobbing strings.

The first half concluded with Einojuhani Rautavaara's Second Sonata (1970), also known as the Fire Sermon. Its three movements were tonal. Aggressive ostinatos in the 1^st movement were reminiscent of Bartok even if hints of melody were allowed to escape from the cauldron, contrasted with the lyricism of the slow movement which had acerbic stings of its own. A furious fugue completed the 10-minute piece, distinguished by striking chordal resonances by allowing the strings to go undampered for a few more seconds.

Familiar music occupied the second half, beginning with the Six Musical Moments of Franz Schubert. Within these short intimate pieces, the Austrian composer invested a whole world of moods and emotions, which Tawaststjerna keenly brought out.

The tensions and inner angst of his Lieder were never far away from the song-like numbers, contrasted by the polka-rhythm of No.3 (a popular encore), Bach-like figurations of No.4 and the outright fury of No.5. It was the longing nostalgia of the final piece, wonderfully captured, which made this outing memorable.

The Fireworks in Chopin's “Heroic” Polonaise (Op.53) were the sonorous antidote to too much pensiveness, and Tawaststjerna's stunning control in the stampeding octave sequence as the music threatened to boil over was one to be remembered. 

His encore of Sibelius' Finlandia, in a gratifyingly blustery transcription by the composer, full of chords, octaves and tremolos - provided the perfect Finnish finish.      

Post concert: Tawaststjerna meets with YST piano students
and the piano duo of Low Shao Ying & Shao Suan.

ERIK T. TAWASTSTJERNA Piano Recital / Review

ERIK T. TAWASTSTJERNA Piano Recital

Yong Siew Toh Conservatory Concert Hall

Thursday (17 September 2009)

This review was published in The Straits Times on 19 September 2009.

The piano music of the great Finnish composer Jean Sibelius (1865-1957) is hardly ever heard in these parts, so it was a pleasure to have his compatriot and authority Erik T. Tawaststjerna present these in concert. Unlike in the symphonic works, the pianistic Sibelius was best as a miniaturist. His salon-like morceaux are masterful character pieces, filled with simple charm and unusual colour.

Tawaststjerna’s selection of three varied Impromptus (from Op.3) displayed a variegated palette of shades, from solemn chords projected with an organ-like sonority, through folk-like rusticity to scintillating finger work recalling some limpid brooklet. The repeated note technique in the Caprice (Op.24 No.3) also suggested Sibelius might have been familiar with Moszkowski’s Caprice Espagnol.

Perhaps better known is the Romance in D flat major (Op.24 No.9) with its hymn-like melody, brilliant cadenza and epic climax, which Tawaststjerna delivered with great aplomb. Sibelius’ (left) own piano transcription of his biggest hit Finlandia was probably fiscally motivated. The heavy chords, rumbling tremolos, cascading arpeggios and dizzying trills could never replicate its orchestral glory, but its central chorale (Be Still My Soul or Finland Awakes, whichever language one sings it) had a touching poignancy.

The Scandinavian first half closed with Grieg’s early Sonata in E minor (Op.7), which sounded overlong by half, but salvaged by a lovely slow movement that had the same innocent and timeless quality as his Lyric Pieces.

The Chopin selection was the least successful part of the recital. While dark clouds and an inner rage distinguished the Nocturne in C sharp minor (Op.27 No.1), its counterpart in G major (Op.37 No.2) sounded stodgy and laboured. Lapses and missed notes blighted the three Waltzes (of Op.64, including the supposedly facile Minute Waltz), ample proof that there is no such thing as easy Chopin.

Liszt fared better; the Third Consolation displayed clear lines and a certain nobility, while St Francis Walking On The Waves (from Two Legends) thundered imperiously in its heroic but effortful strides. For the final word in simulated bravura, Manuel de Falla’s Ritual Fire Dance reveled in mesmerising trills and stamping chords.

Sonic gold dust returned in the sole encore, with The Spruce (Op.75 No.5) by the man of the hour, none other than Sibelius. Simply delectable from Tawaststjerna’s hands, one wished more of this Finnish finesse.