NACHTMUSIK / KOTARO FUKUMA Piano Recital / Review

NACHTMUSIK

KOTARO FUKUMA Piano Recital

Victoria Concert Hall

Friday (24 March 2023)

 

It seems odd that Japanese pianist Kotaro Fukuma, 1st prizewinner of the 2003 Cleveland International Piano Competition, who concertises actively in Japan and Europe, has never performed in Singapore. Until now, so it is a case of better late than never. His recital, presented by C.Bechstein Concerts, was built around the theme of “Night”, a celebration of romance, mysteries and terrors associated with the dark hours.

Photo: Yong Junyi

 

Opening with the serene Bach-Siloti Aria in D major from Orchestral Suite No.3 (better known as the Air on G String), he coaxed a beautiful and luscious tone from the Bechstein 9-footer, an apt prelude for things to come. Fukuma’s own transcription of Mozart’s Serenade in G major (K.525), the familiar Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, was a special surprise. One never thought its string-based melodies and textures could translate so well on the piano.

Photo: Yong Junyi

 

This was no light-footed or prissy account associated with the period instrument movement, but one which relived full orchestral textures, where forte means forte, and outright virtuosity was a means to an end. The opening movement’s robustness was balanced by a Romanze of Rococo charm until  machinations of busy counterpoint took over. Fukuma made it sound so simple, a feat that was reprised in the mercurial finale’s free-wheeling dealings.

 

The Austro-German first half continued with Clara Schumann’s Notturno in G minor (Op.6 No.2), a Mendelssohnian song without words which occasionally strayed into Chopin territory (notably the Andante Spianato). Without a break, its lyrical beauty segued seamlessly into her husband Robert’s familiar Traumerei (Dreaming) from Kinderszenen (Scenes from Childhood), its most natural companion. When reverie turns into tumultuous struggle was the lot of In der Nacht (In The Night) from Fantasiestucke (Fantasy Pieces) Op.12, a work of true Romantic angst filled with disquiet and smouldering tension. Also technically the most difficult of the set, Fukuma faced its thorny pages head on without flinching, and some release was found in the whimsical Traumes Wirren (Dreams Confusion), bringing the Schumann segment to a grandstanding close.

Photo: Yong Junyi

 

There were many children in the audience, but their silence throughout the recital spoke volumes of how Fukuma communicated to all kinds of listeners in his music-making. Their good behaviour was rewarded with Alfred Grünfeld’s Soiree de Vienne, a waltz fantasy built around the popular number from Johann Strauss the Younger’s Die Fledermaus. Its ubiquitous melody kept popping up in a playful game of counterpoint, the result proving a big hit with the audience.

 

The French-flavoured second half opened with three Nocturnes performed without a break. Two of Chopin’s most familiar showcased wide contrasts, the E flat major (Op.9 No.2) in a version augmented with ornamentations of filigreed finery, and the dark and stormy C minor (Op.48 No.1).  In the latter, gentility gave way to full-blooded passion, and no one could accuse Chopin of being soft or effete. What followed was a rarity, as Gabriel Fauré's piano music is not played enough in Singapore. His Nocturne No.5 in B flat major is a gem, which Fukuma polished to a fine sheen. Its melting lyricism contrasted with outpourings from the broken heart was a natural progression from Chopin. New rule: every conservatory piano student must learn a Fauré nocturne (pick any one of 13) for every Chopin nocturne played.

Photo: Yong Junyi

 

Debussy’s Clair de lune from Suite Bergamasque had to be included, its gentle evocation of twilight beautifully rendered, and it was a masterstroke to have its D flat major close flow directly into the C sharp-centred delicate right hand tremolo of Ravel’s Ondine from Gaspard de la nuit. These are essentially the same note on the keyboard, and aurally made perfect sense and synergy. Fukuma’s mastery of the music’s big sweeps and glissandi was awe-inspiring to say the least.

 

The stroke of midnight, with twelve tolls of the bell heralded Saint-Saens’s Danse Macabre in the rambunctious transcription by Franz Liszt. Frightful visions of dancing skeletons and the Devil’s evil laughter came alive in Fukuma’s hands, which even included a furious fugato of clattering bones, bringing the recital to a stirring conclusion. His encore had little to do with night, but who could resist Japanese composer Kozaburo Hirai’s Fantasy on Sakura Sakura? Erik Satie’s delightful valse-chanson Je Te Veux (I Want You) took on a new life in Fukuma’s elaborations, all tarted up and with everywhere to go. Kotaro Fukuma’s return to Singapore will be keenly anticipated.

 

Photo: Yong Junyi

RARITIES OF PIANO MUSIC AT SCHLOSS VOR HUSUM 2019 / Part 2

Saturday 24 August 2019

CLARISSE TEO 

Piano Recital (4.30 pm)

 

Nothing fills me with greater pride than witnessing a first ever-recital by a Singaporean pianist at  Husum. For me, Clarisse Teo’s hour-long recital is a Joseph Schooling moment, an artistic equivalent of Singapore’s first Olympic gold in 2016. This law-graduate turned concert pianist had me near speechless by her confidence and authority in her made-for-Husum programme of music by Xavier Montsalvatge, Vincent D’Indy and Anatoly Alexandrov. Who? Exactly. Even by Husum’s lofty standards, her programme was a rarity.

 

She took a little time to prepare herself at the keyboard, but when she set her fingers down, it was a non-stop roller-coaster ride of hair-raising notes. Montsalvatge’s Sonatina pour Yvette entranced with its quirky rhythms and piquant harmonies, and smiles were raised in the 3^rd movement’s cheeky quotes of Ah, vous dirai-je Maman! Obviously this was written for a child, but there was nothing childlike in its delivery.

 

Then we entered hardcore Husum territory with D’Indy’s Theme varie, Fugue et Chanson, a work far removed from the world of his Symphony on a Mountain Air. No folksy melodies, but a theme which did not sound memorable at first but soon grew with each variation. The fugue was complex enough (every composer had to prove himself with this obligatory exercise) but the final chanson was a happy return home. The ante was upped for the Russian Alexandrov Fourth Sonata, as thorny as any post-Scriabin essay would prove. Even if the ears soon wearied with its litany of dissonances, nothing suggested that Clarisse was tired. Her responses remained hyperacute all through to its climactic close.

 

Her sole encore came like a pleasant after-dinner mint, Carlos Guastavino’s Cantos Popolares No.4, a delightful palate-cleanser to soothe the gall and brimstone that came before. If I sounded somewhat over-enthusiastic, that ought to be the case. I’ll probably never visit the Olympic Games or football World Cup with Singapore to support, but this would be one of Singapore’s proudest musical moments. By the way, I’m also happy to report that the Singaporean population in Husum had increased by by 800% on this weekend!

The Teo family comes to Husum.

Pianophile celeb alert:
Bulgarian pianist Nadezhda Vlaeva,
her husband Farhan Malik and
daughter were spotted at the festival.

 

KOTARO FUKUMA Piano Recital (7.30 pm)

 

The programme offered by the 2003 first prizewinner of the Cleveland International Piano Competition had to be the most eclectic programme I have witnessed in five years of visiting Husum. That’s a far cry from the usual piano competition fodder served up ad nauseum, which means the young Japanese Kotaro Fukuma has progressed beyond the mainstream. His programme began with Minako Tokuyama’s To No Mai, with echoes of Takemitsu and Ryuichi Sakamoto. Next was a melancholic piece from Liszt’s Album dun voyager, the First Nocturne and a Waltz by Bizet (piano music by Carmen’s composer are finally receiving their due), and appropriately a Hommage a Bizet by Theodor Adorno, of all people. This is a surprise by the philosopher and champion of atonalism, and how pleasant and lyrical the three movements sounded, perilously skirting at the edges of tonality.

 

The piece de resistance of Fukuma’s recital had to be the six posthumously-published Charles Trenet songs by Alexis Weissenberg (Mister Nobody in his younger and presumably wilder days) as realised by Marc-André Hamelin. This is heady and highly virtuosic stuff despite the relative simplicity of thematic material, and beautifully played too. One will not view Coin de rue or April in Paris in the same light again. Quite unusually too, he closed with Mieczyslaw Weinberg’s Sixth Sonata, which is acerbic, savage and viscerally exciting, as one would expect from a one-time Shostakovich student. One might even discern a hint of jazz at its close, which complimented the earlier goings-on.

 

Fukuma gave three encores, a Clara Schumann nocturne, more Bizet (Heimat) and his own over-the-top version of the familiar waltz-song Je te veux, which is Satie meets Mr Nobody. Naughty but nice!