What's the music in my MP3 player?

WHAT’S THE MUSIC IN MY MP3 PLAYER?

Way back in 2005, I bought myself my first MP3 player. Not an iPod, but an LG FM11 with a measly 256 MB, just 4 hours of listening capacity. What went into this portable jukebox? Piano music, of course, and here are the items which have remained more or less unchanged since 2008:

RACHMANINOFF-WILD 

Song Transcriptions
To The Children – Floods of Spring – In The Silent Night – Where Beauty Lies – Vocalise – O, Cease Thy Singing
EARL WILD

RACHMANINOFF-VOLODOS 

Andante from Cello Sonata, Op.19
ARCADI VOLODOS

Yes, I'm a complete sucker for Rachmaninoff's melodies and one will not find finer tunes than these, all dressed up in pianistic finery like Cinderella going to a ball. Both Wild and Volodos are great transcribers, as Rachmaninoff was himself.

GODOWSKY Java Suite
Gamelan – Wayang Purwa – Hari Besaar – Chattering Monkeys of Lake Wendit – Borobodur in Moonlight – Bromo Volcano and Sand Sea – Three Dances – The Gardens of Buitenzorg – Streets of Old Batavia – In the Kraton – Ruined Water Castle at Djokja – Court Pageant in Solo.
ESTHER BUDIARDJO

One of my all-time-favourite "concept discs", Oriental-flavoured and lusciously written music idiomatically and sensitively played by the wonderful Indonesian pianist Esther Budiardjo.

PROKOFIEV Piano Concerto No.2

VLADIMIR KRAINEV

with Frankfurt Radio Symphony 

DMITRI KITAENKO

A great if underrated piano concerto, a sort of Rachmaninov with teeth. Krainev has all the chops and that vital Russian essence; possibly greater than Ashkenazy's famous Decca recording, and definitely streets ahead of Li Yundi...

RACHMANINOFF
Piano Concerto No.2
Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini
GARY GRAFFMAN
with New York Philharmonic
LEONARD BERNSTEIN

This was the Rach 2 that got me started on my road of discovery in classical music. As an impressionable 14-year-old in the 1970s, Rachmaninov can have the impact of being struck by a bolt of lightning. Even if it was on a made-in-Indonesia pirated cassette costing $2 sold at a roadside stall.

RACHMANINOV Piano Concerto No.3

JOHN CHEN with Sydney Symphony 

JANOS FURST

Recorded "live" in the finals of the Sydney International Piano Competition 2004. A passion-filled performance that captures the blood and guts of a "live" performance. A storm of bravos ensue, including a just audible vocal contribution from yours truly.

Solo highlights from the 

2008 Sydney International Piano Competition:

CHOPIN Étude in A minor, Op.10 No.2 

DANIIL TSVETKOV
KAPUSTIN Intermezzo TATIANA KOLESOVA
POULENC Presto TAKASHI SATO
RAVEL La Valse DAVID FUNG
SCHULZ-EVLER Arabesques on the Blue Danube 

HOANG PHAM
SHOSTAKOVICH Prelude & Fugue in D flat major, Op.87 No.15 TATIANA KOLESOVA

Thrills and spills indelibly captured in the excitement of competition.

HAVE INTERNATIONAL PIANO COMPETITIONS LOST THEIR EDGE?

A scene that could have come 

from the 19th century,

Van Cliburn plays for an 

adoring audience at the 1958 Tchaikovsky 

International Piano Competition.

HAVE INTERNATIONAL 

PIANO COMPETITIONS 

LOST THEIR EDGE?

This was an article I was asked to write for the bilingual periodical ZBBZ. The publication is a lifestyle magazine for English-speaking Chinese yuppies, not the obvious audience for such a story. Needless to say, it was never published. Here it is, anyway.

There was a time when winning first prize in an international piano competition meant something – instant fame, concert engagements galore and a lucrative contract with a major recording label.

At the height of the Cold War in 1958, the American Van Cliburn defied the Soviets in Moscow to conquer the First Tchaikovsky International Piano Competition. Posterity was immediately assured. A New York City ticker-tape parade fit for war heroes ensued, and his LP recording of Tchaikovsky’s First Piano Concerto sold over a million copies. Even losers had their day, with the enigmatic Serb Ivo Pogorelich winning sympathy and notoriety after being ejected at the semi-finals of the 1980 Chopin International Piano Competition. How times have changed.

Quick, who were the last six winners of the Leeds International Piano Competition? That question will draw a fit of head-scratching and a blank. The names of Sofya Gulyak (left), Sunwook Kim, Antti Siirala, Alessio Bax, Ilya Itin and Ricardo Castro (Leeds winners going back to 1993) mean little to most. Good pianists as they may be, not one is a household name.

Have piano competitions lost their Midas touch?

There are plausible reasons for this perception, and most are not musical. The Alink-Argerich Foundation (world authority on piano competitions) lists over 300 competitions on its website – from Sydney, Australia to Trömso in the Norwegian Arctic Circle. But are there enough concert stages to present these winners, or record labels to hawk their wares? With “big” competitions losing their lustre in the onslaught of dozens of “small” rivals, prestige has become so passé.

Competitions have also tended to encourage a gladiatorial approach to music-making. Most involve multiple rounds, where years of musical training are reduced to 40 to 50 minutes of make-or-break playing. The brilliant and spectacular are usually favoured over the sensitive and profound. Competitors who make least mistakes or sound most agreeable to a consensus-seeking jury often win. The most personal or individual of interpretations are often rejected. Is there any wonder why so many pianists, whether from China, Russia or USA, begin to sound the same?

The jury at the 2005 Van Cliburn 

International Piano Competition

sit in judgement on the careers 

of 35 young pianists.

Another contentious issue involves competition juries. This coterie formed by established pianists, conservatory professors and sometimes organisers of competitions is small and insular, often revolving in a merry-go-round of fixtures. Even more egregious is when students of jurors win prizes whenever they preside. Tacit arrangements arise where collusion ascertains certain outcomes, with similar favours reciprocated at the next competition. Transparency is often mooted but almost never realised.

An international piano competition is now only as great as its sphere of influence. A competition in USA only affects American concert life but rarely across the Atlantic, and vice versa. Many competitions further an organiser’s agenda and serve local commercial interests first, while competitors enjoy trickle-down effects, if any. Winners receive prize money, local fame, a run of concerts mostly in small venues, all lasting two to three years, or until the next competition beckons.

So is there a perfect formula for the perfect piano competition? Sadly no, however several competitions are attempting for uniqueness, setting them apart from all the others.

The Van Cliburn International in Fort Worth, Texas has comprehensive coverage, with every note broadcast “live” via the Internet and archived for a global audience. The London International expressly forbids jurors to enter their students, and the final is a collaboration with the London Philharmonic. The Hong Kong International has an A-list jury led by renowned Russian pianist-conductor Vladimir Ashkenazy, who will conduct the concerto round in its next edition. The competition has its own recording label, a concert circuit around East Asia, and promotes its winner in perpetuity. This competition believes that nurturing a talent is a long-term commitment.

Some perspective may be had in the case of 23-year-old New Zealander John Chen (left), who at 18 won First Prize at the 2004 Sydney International. He has since participated in several competitions without replicating his earlier success, but is grateful for the exposure and opportunities - a 50-concert tour of Australasia, four CD recordings and recognition. He believes that competitions provide a good leg-up but post-competition success comes down to the artist himself, a right attitude and sheer hard work. While working on his doctorate in California, he is pleasantly surprised at the number of engagements that still come his way five years after Sydney.

The more commonly heard story is that of a pianist who reaches his pinnacle at the concours but comes crashing down when cold hard facts of a concert career rear its head – living out of a suitcase, unfamiliar venues, poor instruments and unfavourable reviews. The recent debacle involving Li Yundi, who performed execrably with the Singapore Symphony Orchestra, proves that unless an artist keeps himself focused and in top from, he is only as good as his last concert.

In reality, winning a piano competition is merely a calling card, the rest is up to the artist himself.

Orchestra of the Music Makers: RACH 2 / Review

RACH 2
Orchestra of the Music Makers
CHAN TZE LAW, Conductor
Victoria Concert Hall
Friday (21 August 2009)

This review was published in The Straits Times on 24 August 2009.

The title says it all. For music-lovers, it is merely the abbreviation of Russian Romantic composer Serge Rachmaninov’s Second Piano Concerto or Second Symphony. In this case, both landmark works featured in an exhausting programme that marked a new high for the Orchestra of the Music Makers (OMM).

A sign that the music scene in Singapore has progressed inexorably, this was the third performance of the demanding hour-long symphony by an orchestra of young musicians in just six months. It was also the best by a country mile. This performance had the recipe that made for utterly compelling listening: excellence of execution, an acute urgency to communicate, and the temerity to take all kinds of risks.

Under conductor Chan Tze Law’s (left) firm guiding hands, the music soared from the word go. Pride of place goes to the strings, which drew a sonorous collective sigh before launching skyward into lyrical heaven. This is the stuff of dreams, of reliving nostalgia without resorting to sentimental portamenti (slides and slurs) or other swooning effects.

The incisiveness of attack was most keenly felt in the 2nd movement scherzo, its tumultuous fugal section erupting with genuine Tchaikovskian hysteria. Vincent Goh’s clarinet solo in the slow movement was a joy to behold, as were concertmaster See Ian Ike’s contributions and numerous other solos. The finale’s surging wave after wave of sound was matched by the orchestra’s irrepressible momentum, which rode the epic crest till its brilliant and breathless conclusion.

All this took place after the orchestra played collaborator to New Zealander John Chen’s (left) warm-hearted and totally musical account of the concerto. Unlike certain big-name pianists of his generation, Chen is incapable of making an ugly sound. Beyond the flash and dash of Rachmaninov’s extroverted pages, he also ably brought out the melancholy and angst that distinguished this music.

While he could have emoted more in the slow movement, there was little to be further desired in the sizzling cadenzas of the finale, its rapturously heartrending climaxes and grandstand finish. Two Rachmaninov Études-tableaux (from Op.33) as encores also showcased a crisp and clear-as-a-bell technique.

For those fearing for the future of classical music, look no further. Soloist and ensemble alike, these youths with a mission are set to conquer the world.