Showing posts with label Ng Pei Sian. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ng Pei Sian. Show all posts

Monday, 20 April 2015

JOHN TAVENER'S FLOOD OF BEAUTY / A Tapestry of Sacred Music / Review



JOHN TAVENER'S FLOOD OF BEAUTY
A Tapestry of Sacred Music
Esplanade Concert Hall
Friday (17 April 2015)

This review was published in The Straits Times on 20 April 2015 with the title "Bold, beautiful and baffling".

Gustav Mahler once wrote, “The symphony is a world. It must encompass everything.” British composer Sir John Tavener (1944-2013) had taken that view to further extremes, to include not just the world but the heavens and spiritual realms. His last major work, Flood Of Beauty, composed between 2006 and 2007 but left unperformed at his death, embraced that ethos.

A posthumous co-commission by Esplanade and Barbican Centre, its Asian premiere took place as the most ambitious project ever mounted in Esplanade's A Tapesty of Sacred Music festival. Lasting some 110 minutes, it took two vocal soloists, a cellist, three traditional Indian instrumentalists, the Yong Siew Toh Conservatory Orchestra of 60, and mixed chorus of over 100 singers directed by three conductors to perform.

A devotee of the Orthodox Christianity, Tavener took to Asian religions and philosphy in his later years, spawning the ecumenical view that multiple paths led to God. Flood Of Beauty was a setting of the epic Sanskrit poem Saundarya Lahari by Hindu cleric Adi Sankarachacarya, performed in 5 movements or cycles.      


A short prelude by Nadarajan Kathirgamu (sitar) and Nawaz Mirajkar (tabla) serenely led into the first of four cycles which got increasingly longer as they came. Then the voices of soprano Alison Bell and baritone Marcus Farnsworth together with the choirs on stage and in the upper circles chanted the word “sachchidananda”, which represented a state of heightened consciousness and bliss. The massive orchestral forces with conductors Jason Lai (stage), Leonard Tan and Adrian Chiang (on either sides of the second circle) provided an ethereal sphere of surround-sound that permeated the entire work.

Tavener's music is highly tonal, he often being lumped in a movement of contemporary composers of supposed “sacred minimalism”. His aesthetics has however been divisive; some loath his repetitiousness and apparent vacuousness, while others adore his spirituality and timelessness. Flood was for large part more ecstatic than static, and within the first cycle, almost the entire pantheon of Hindu Gods and deities were exalted by name, as the music shifted in gear into the next rung of enlightenment.

Each cycle closed with Ng Pei Sian's passionate solos, the cello serving as a focal point, a kind of divine messenger heralding the next cycle and higher plane of existence. For this listener, he provided an oasis of relief that the earlier hubbub has ended, and a new and better experience was to be encountered. Unfortunately, the third cycle became particularly vexatious and self-indulgent, almost drowning within in its own suffocating froth. By now, some audience members were seen leaving the hall.

Esplanade's Klais pipe organ played by Evelyn Lim was heard in its full glory in the fourth cycle, and soprano Bell elevated to to nether regions where she continued to warble quite beautifully. If one were bored by the highly-strung music, the transliterations projected on two screens provided some entertainment. The eroticism of the Kama Sutra was relived in lines like, 

Goosebumps form on your graceful neck because you are overjoyed in the embrace of Siva,” 

and by the fifth cycle this, 

Your breasts are ruby jars of nectar.”


Then the penny dropped. The first four cycles had been a solid 80 minutes of foreplay, culminating in the fifth cycle's consummation of a coital act of cosmic and celestial proportions. That would explain the frenzied last half hour of orgasmic outbursts from the entire body of performers, followed by detumescence in the form of a string quartet's reminiscence, cellist Ng's final oration and sitar, tabla and tambura to conclude as the work had begun.

This was a magnificent effort by all concerned, but was Flood of Beauty a piece of sublime art or emperor's new clothes? From the first listen, some of its strengths and weaknesses may be discerned, but the jury might very well be still out.  A second or third listen may be helpful. 

On the other hand, one might be better off leaving things as they are, taking home some cherished memories and go listen to Mahler instead.

Monday, 3 March 2014

RHYTHMS & RHAPSODIES / Orchestra of the Music Makers / Review



RHYTHMS & RHAPSODIES
Orchestra of the Music Makers
Esplanade Concert Hall
Saturday (1 March 2014)

This review was published in The Straits Times on 3 March 2014 with the title "Rhythms send pulses racing".

Now that the Familiar Favourites Concerts by the Singapore Symphony Orchestra are a thing of the past, the mantle of entertaining young audiences in the concert hall has now been passed to the Orchestra of the Music Makers (OMM) in its OMMProms. The third such concert, conducted by Chan Tze Law and centred on dance music, can safely be said to be its best to date.


The opener, Khachaturian’s Sabre Dance from the ballet Gayaneh, sent the pulses racing with timpani and xylophone going neck and neck at a furious pace. Despite its immense popularity, this lollipop remains fresh because of the energy and vitality of the playing. One marvelled not just at the accuracy accomplished at high speed, but also how the orchestra responded readily to the rapid decrescendo as the piece wound down.

Virtuosity of a more overt kind was also on display in four movements from Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet. There was might and muscle as the feuding Montagues and Capulets jostled for supremacy, tenderness from Friar Lawrence, raw passion for the Balcony Scene and best of all, the embodiment of violence in The Death of Tybalt.

Incorporating Mercutio’s boisterous dance, the mercurial string playing impressed but that soon gave way to the strident dissonance of the brass, as the concluding funeral procession stole the show. In reality, all the sections shone equally to make the showcase sound convincing.


All this was a mere prelude to the Singapore premiere of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Variations for Cello and Orchestra, guest-starring the Singapore Symphony Orchestra’s principal cellist Ng Pei Sian. Based on Paganini’s Caprice No.24 for violin solo, it was written for the musical-meister’s cellist brother Julian after losing a footballing wager.

Those familiar with Rachmaninov’s Paganini Rhapsody for piano and orchestra will appreciate this more extended work based on the same principles. However its eclectic borrowings from the worlds of jazz, pop, rock and film music, with shades of Jesus Christ Superstar and Evita, make this 35-minute long fantasy one firmly held tongue-in-cheek.

Ng and his amplified cello responded magnificently to its outlandish demands. As if to top Rachmaninov, there were three lyrical variations, including the melody later known as Unexpected Song, to luxuriate in. He was not alone, as the orchestra more than coped with the score’s rhythmic intricacies, idiomatic and stylistic quirks with great aplomb.

Look who's playing in the cellos.

Demanding an encore, the audience was rewarded when Ng joined the ranks of the orchestra as it rumbled to the exuberant Brazilian rhythms of Zequinha de Abreu’s Tico Tico no fuba. One year might seem just too long to wait for the next OMMProm.   


Photographs courtesy of the 
Orchestra of the Music Makers.

Thursday, 3 October 2013

RENAUD CAPUÇON IN RECITAL / Review



RENAUD CAPUÇON IN RECITAL
Yong Siew Toh Conservatory
Tuesday (1 October 2013)

This review was published in The Straits Times on 3 October 2013 with the title "When students play with masters".

The strong relationship that exists between the national conservatory and symphony orchestra has meant that world class soloists who guest with the SSO also get a chance to perform chamber music with faculty members and students in a spirit of collegial camaraderie. This was never so apparent than in the case of French violinist Renaud Capuçon, who last performed at this venue the ten violin sonatas of Beethoven in 2011.

On this evening, the focus was on Johannes Brahms, whose chamber music is among the most sublime known to mankind. The recital opened with the First Violin Sonata in G major (Op.78), with pianist Bernard Lanskey (also the Conservatory Head) as equal partner. One was immediately struck by the close cooperation between the two. Capuçon’s sweet and even tome projected well across the hall but never overwhelmed, while Lanskey’s accompanying figurations blended well like hand and glove.

This is not overtly showy music, but the virtuosity was in maintaining close to perfect balance. While an air of quiet nostalgia hung over the entire work, the degree displayed in each of the three movements was well differentiated and vividly brought out. There was sobriety in the slow movement, but the emotional release in the finale, inspired by Brahms’s song Regenlied (Song of Tears), was not one of outward joyousness, but subdued exultation.    

After the interval, Capuçon was joined by faculty Zhang Manchin (viola), Ng Pei Sian (cello) and three students for the First String Sextet in B flat major (Op.18). The performance of chamber music is the perfect embodiment of democratic ideals, of people overcoming differences and working together towards a common goal.


What a pleasure and privilege it must have been for young violinist Shi Xiaoxuan, violist Wang Yangzi and cellist Lee Min Jin, selected to play alongside their teachers and one of the world’s great string players. Any hint of nerves or being overawed was immediately dispelled as all six players resounded in one accord from first to last.

The beginning of the opening two movements saw violist Zhang as de facto leader, cueing the low strings in the mellow but powerful musical statements that defined this sprawling 40-minute work. The intensity achieved in the second movement’s well-known Theme & Variations was admirable, balanced by the staccato lightness and humour of the short Scherzo.

The final Rondo was not of the rollicking kind usually associated with Brahms, but one of fleet and flowing lyricism, with sunshine inexorably emerging through thickets of clouds. Passion and high spirits rode the crest to its conclusion, and the vociferous applause by the sizeable audience was rewarded by a welcome reprise of the delightful Scherzo.       


    

Monday, 4 March 2013

SSO Concert: BRAHMS DOUBLED / Review



BRAHMS DOUBLED
Singapore Symphony Orchestra
Esplanade Concert Hall
Friday (1 March 2013)

This review was published in The Straits Times on 4 March 2013 with the title "A perfect love match".

Concerts of all-German music are nothing unusual, but this one conducted by the Singapore Symphony Orchestra’s Principal Guest Conductor Okko Kamu was of music that cast a backward glance to musical traditions of the past.


The 20th century German composer Paul Hindemith should no longer strike fear in the hearts of concert-goers, as his primary preoccupation was to emulate J.S.Bach. Thus his ballet suite Nobilissma Visione, inspired by the life of Francis of Assisi, had a ring of the familiar despite its mild dissonances.

Mellow strings, always a pride of the orchestra, shaded the Introduction with a lustrous patina. The mock-military March with Roberto Alvarez’s perky piccolo soon culminated in a busy fugue, while there was no disguising the passacaglia form in the striding finale which brought the work to a satisfying close.


Johannes Brahms was innovative in using the passacaglia to conclude his Fourth Symphony, but the Third Symphony in F major heard this evening was a little more traditional. His model was Beethoven, but with less angst and more objectivity.

There are reasons why this symphony is less popular than his other three. It is his least emotionally-wrought utterance, has two slow movements played in succession, and ends on a quiet note with a retiring variation of the virile opening theme.

Kamu refused to overplay its qualities, instead coaxing his forces to stay close to the middle of the road. The final outcome, while not boring its listeners, was one of overall safety. There were moments, however, in the central slow movements that genuinely touched.


The highlight of the evening was the performance of Brahms’s Double Concerto for violin and cello, featuring two SSO musicians. Violinist and Co-Leader Lynnette Seah is the orchestra’s longest serving player (since 1978), while cellist Ng Pei Sian is the orchestra’s youngest ever principal (born 1984). Age and experience were not an issue, as they blended beautifully together.

After the emphatic opening orchestral tutti, Ng’s big solo, weighty but delicately poised and possessed with a freedom as if improvised, set the tone. Despite awry intonation from French horns attempting to crash the party, Seah’s sweet-toned violin rose to meet the challenge. It was not so much a gauntlet, but a love-match.


Their interplay was delightful throughout, with neither seeking to outdo each other. In the slow movement, the even unison of its hymn-like melody was so wondrously weaved as to be nigh inseparable. It was left to the Hungarian-flavoured Rondo finale for both to bring out the fireworks. Their two encores together – Londonderry Air and Faure’s Pavane – were a testament to the art of listening to each other. That was just the perfect send-off.  

          

Monday, 30 January 2012

TAN DUN'S MARTIAL ARTS TRILOGY / Singapore Festival Orchestra / Review




TAN DUN’S MARTIAL ARTS TRILOGY
Esplanade Huayi Festival
Singapore Festival Orchestra
Esplanade Concert Hall
Friday (27 January 2012)



This review was published in The Straits Times on 30 January 2012 with the title "Tan Dun's trilogy a feast for the senses".


The one sure sign that Chinese culture has been wholly embraced by the global mainstream and consciousness was how Hollywood greeted Ang Lee’s martial arts epic movie Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon of 2000. Central to its phenomenal success was the Oscar-winning original score by Chinese-American composer Tan Dun, whose music has become as much a part of cinematographic lore as the scores of John Williams, Miklos Rozsa, Sergei Prokofiev and Erich Korngold before him.

The Martial Arts Trilogy presented Tan’s music from three wuxia movies for concert hall consumption in the form of three concertos, performed alongside action sequences projected on the screen. Suites would have been the more accurate description for these scores, as the music unfolded in multiple disparate movements, providing a capsule overview of the narrative.

Heard on its own, the 45-minute long Hero Concerto for violin and orchestra, written for Zhang Yimou’s film about the first emperor Shi Huangdi, might have been a tiresome prospect. However the magic about movies is the contemporary synthesis of various art forms into a glorious whole, serving present times what grand opera did for the 18th and 19th centuries.




Effectively written music makes a movie come alive by providing the story-telling an added dimension for the senses. Thus Wang Jiamin’s violin pyrotechnics, abetted by Zhao Xiaoxia’s atmospheric guqin, came to ably portray the self-sacrificing hero and heroine amid gravity-defying swordplay, intimate love scenes and breathtaking landscapes.

SSO Principal Cellist Ng Pei Sian reprised Yo-Yo Ma’s role for the Crouching Tiger Concerto, containing the most familiar music of the lot. Going beyond mere notes, his demanding part, full of sliding portamentos, violent pizzicatos and assorted effects, lived the role with absolute gusto. The Singapore Festival Orchestra, surely now the Republic’s de facto film orchestra, responded to Tan’s precise and dramatic directions with great immediacy and responsiveness, with a busy percussion section particularly relishing their parts.





The Banquet Concerto, with pianist Sun Jiayi as pugilist in a fiery red dress, had the least Chinese-sounding music. Tan cited as compositional influences Bartok and Stravinsky, for their raw percussive ostinatos, but it was the unbridled lyricism of Rachmaninov that stood out. That was perhaps the very reason, despite the death and mayhem it accompanied, that sent the full-house audience home happy and sated.


Two Maestros Meet: Tan Dun with Chan Tze Law, Music Director of the Singapore Festival Orchestra.

Monday, 19 September 2011

SSO Concert: The Sibelus Symphonies: Finlandia / Review




THE SIBELIUS SYMPHONIES: FINLANDIA
Singapore Symphony Orchestra
Esplanade Concert Hall
Friday (16 September 2011)



This review was published in The Straits Times on 19 September with the title "SSO's past and future"

It was 26 years ago when Finnish conductor Okko Kamu first conducted the Singapore Symphony Orchestra in two concerts that would alter the destiny of the orchestra. On that weekend in early 1985, the main work played was the Fifth Symphony of Jean Sibelius, in performances that made the orchestra and audience believe that the SSO was capable of truly great things.

In 1994, Kamu was appointed the orchestra’s first and only Principal Guest Conductor to date. Strangely this is the first time he is attempting a Sibelius symphony cycle here, with seven symphonies spread over four concerts. This is nothing new, as the mostly-amateur Philharmonic Orchestra led by Lim Yau had completed the cycle in three very creditable concerts in 2007-2008.

Nevertheless, a sense of déjà vu was compelling as Kamu mounted the podium to open with the tone poem Finlandia. Taken at a less aggressive than usual stance, there was room for the music to breathe. The brass was well marshalled, resisting every temptation to blare out uninhibited, and the glorious hymn from the strings sung out like the patriotic anthem it is. This was a Finlandia of nobility rather than dogged resistance.



This similarly broad approach was adopted for the Second Symphony in D major, composed around the same time. Its heroism came from the opulence of sound that enveloped the whole work. Never hectic or harried, there was time to radiate the music’s warmth, from the strings led by guest concertmaster Lothar Strauss in his debut, to chirpy woodwinds and burnished brass.

In this performance, one was reminded not by the icy lakes or granitic crags of Sibelius’s homeland, but rather the more comforting and reassuring sauna. There was no breakneck rush towards the finale’s valedictory resolution but a steady build up that was equally exciting in a different way.

Wedged in between the Sibelius works was Frenchman Edouard Lalo’s Cello Concerto in D minor played by Ng Pei Sian, the orchestra’s Principal Cellist. At 27, he is not only the youngest principal ever appointed but also the first who is actually younger than the orchestra itself.

Age was no impediment to the sheer artistry he brought – a seamless singing tone, flexibility in shifts of mood and colour, and the virtuosity to make the complex sound simple. The purity of sound in his encore, Saint-Saëns’s The Swan, was the icing on a pretty solid cake.

Monday, 10 January 2011

SSO Concert: A Night With Tchaikovsky / Review

A NIGHT WITH TCHAIKOVSKY
Singapore Symphony Orchestra
Gennady Rozhdestvensky, Conductor
Esplanade Concert Hall
Friday (7 January 2010)


This review was published in The Straits Times on 10 January
with the title "Conjuring up old Russia".

With Tchaikovsky, some things are almost certain: heart-wrenching melodies, overwrought climaxes and a surfeit of emotional excesses. For almost two and a half hours, the Singapore Symphony Orchestra was transformed into an emsemble that sounded like the great Russian orchestras of vintage. The catalyst was Russian conductor Gennady Rozhdestvensky, who turns 80 this year, in his third outing with the SSO.

The elevated status of the podium was shunned, as he conducted with feet firmly planted on the stage floor, level with his charges (left). Wielding economical directions and gestures bordering on the miserly, he drew great swathes of sound that almost defied belief.

The sheer magnetism was palpable, as low strings heaved a forlorn sigh in the opening of the hour-long Manfred Symphony, as if bearing the weight of the world on their collective shoulders. This and more characterised the programme music based on Lord Byron’s Romantic anti-hero whose crushing guilt eventually gets the better of him.

The scherzo flew on feathered wings like some fairy tale scene while the slow movement’s lyric sunshine was clouded by undercurrents of deep-seated angst. All built up to an epic finale, where fateful forces of tragedy came to bear. Unlike the bleaker Pathetique Symphony, mighty chords from Evelyn Lim’s pipe organ offered glimmers of hope. Forget about Manfred’s redemption, the pathologically-depressed Tchaikovsky was scripting his own.

The first half was witness to the rarely-performed Second Piano Concerto in G major (Op.44) with Rozhdestvensky’s wife Viktoria Postnikova at the keyboard. But wait, was it not Stephen Hough who performed it just 18 months ago? The two readings were poles apart. While the Briton personified litheness and athleticism, the Russian radiated opulence and monumentality.

Besides dealing out heavy chords and octave salvos, she also proved extremely nimble in the fussy filigreed bits that demanded elfin-like lightness, culminating with a giant of a cadenza that was the last word in barnstorming.

The Rozhdestvenskys acknowledging the applause.

The best music came in the slow movement, a triple concerto in all but name. Here, concertmaster Alexander Souptel’s exquisite violin solo blended beautifully with Ng Pei Sian’s silky cello, and the ménage a trois was complete with Postnikova’s singing tone on the piano. Scintillating pianism wrapped up the rip-roaring finale, and her encore of Barcarolle (June from The Seasons) provided the icing on the cake. Simply irresistible.

Before emigrating to Singapore, SSO Concertmaster
Alexander Souptel was Gennady Rozhdestvensky's
concertmaster in the USSR Ministry of Culture
& USSR Radio Symphony Orchestras for over 10 years.