CONCERT SERIES: SIBELIUS & BRAHMS / Nanyang Academy of Fine Arts Orchestra / Review

 

CONCERT SERIES: SIBELIUS & BRAHMS

NAFA Orchestra

Victoria Concert Hall

Thursday (26 March 2026)

Singapore has become a city of orchestras, and if one wondered how that came about, it would be prudent to check out the musical education institutions and their student orchestras. Much has been written about the Yong Siew Toh Orchestral Institute, and its now time to also focus on the Nanyang Academy of Fine Arts Orchestra (NAFA Orchestra). NAFA’s School of Music is the older institution, having being founded in the 1984 (YST arrived in 2003), and its orchestra benefits from the experience of Singapore’s most senior living conductor, Lim Yau.

Lim’s career has taken him to the Singapore Symphony Orchestra and Chorus, the Singapore Lyric Opera, the Singapore National Youth Orchestra and The Philharmonic Orchestra and Chamber Chorus, and now NAFA. Literally thousands of musicians in Singapore – professionals and amateurs, adults and young people – have made serious good music under his guiding wings for the past four decades. In this respect, his legacy extends further than that of Choo Hoey or Lan Shui, and older pioneering figures like Paul Abisheganaden and Goh Soon Tioe.

NAFA Orchestra’s concert opened with Sibelius’ Karelia Suite, and the young musicians barely needed to warm up to create a warm sonorous atmosphere. String tremolos and a very confident quartet of French horns (who were in tune throughout) established the main theme of the opening Intermezzo, and the festive procession of Finnish self-determination kicked off from there. The velvety string sonority continued in the Ballade, where solo cor anglais also got a rare moment to shine. The concluding Alla Marcia strided with purpose and direction, little wonder how this suite came to symbolise the pride of Finnish nationalism.

Sibelius’ Violin Concerto in D minor (Op.47) is now a staple of young violin virtuosos, and 4th year student Zhu Zunzun boldly stepped up to the challenge. From the outset, she brought out a robust and brawny tone, beginning with quiet mystery and later embracing the unlikely lyricism of this rough-hewn work. She was never overwhelmed by orchestral forces, instead projecting with authority, including in the first movement’s two very thorny cadenzas.

In the slow movement, the tension was built up organically to a fine climactic high. Only in the fiery finale’s “Polonaise for polar bears” did her technique fall somewhat short, finding some difficulty in matching its quicksilver pace. However that treacherous passage of harmonics was negotiated with perfect intonation, its tight-rope act surmounted before closing in a brilliant flourish to cue in loud and prolonged applause.

The concert’s second half belonged to Brahms’ Second Symphony in D major (Op.73), sometimes referred to as his “Pastoral” due to its congenial spirit and overall warmth. The orchestra employed was not a particularly big one, and a spirit of chamber music was to be upheld this evening. The quartet of French horns shone again in its opening, something which wasn’t always a guarantee during the Singapore Symphony Orchestra’s early years. 

I still remember SSO’s first attempt at this symphony at the Singapore Conference Hall in January 1980, and in many ways, NAFA Orchestra has already surpassed its forebears. The famous quote of Brahms’ Wiegenlied (Op.49 No.4) was a curious look at nostalgia without being over-sentimentalised, and the movement’s development was excellently handled.

The slow movement came like a veil of dark clouds, but Lim’s magisterial handling of its narrative ensured that sunshine was not too far away. Notwithstanding a French horn fluff along the way, the playing reflected that certainty with immediacy. The Allegretto grazioso chattered along amiably with woodwinds including an excellent oboe solo holding court in this cheerful scherzo-like movement.

Then came the valedictory finale, where Allegro con spirito started with hushed tones, but the joyous spirit could never be suppressed for long. The outburst of good feelings was palpable in the playing throughout, and there should be no apology for Brahms’ happiest and most optimistic symphony. Lim Yau and his NAFA charges did themselves proud in this performance, and the audience heartily concurred.

MODERN ART ONE CAN RELATE TO: THE WORLD (POSTCARDS) @ ESPLANADE TUNNEL

More modern art one can relate to. Were you a stamp collector sometime earlier in your life? Yes, I was, for much of my primary school days and up to early secondary school, after which I "graduated" to classical music. I remember the thrill finding a new postage stamp which I never had to add to my collection. Stamp collection or philately was fun, and addictive, the sort of thing record collectors would do. Getting a complete set of stamps of a particular series provided the same buzz as getting the complete Vladimir Horowitz on RCA Victor.

This visual art presentation by Singaporean artist Lai Yu Tong revived some memories of my philatelic obsession during those 1970s primary school days. My parents agreed that stamp collecting was a positive thing to keep a young person out of trouble. And it was educational, a buzz word for me whenever I wanted to persuade my parents to indulge me. True, with stamps you learnt about the world's nations without leaving your home, about geography, foreign currencies and sometimes history related to the topics depicted in the stamps. Yes, I also learnt that Eire and Suomi were what Ireland and Finland were known to their citizens.

The only Singapore entry in the
collection of 33 postcards.

In those days, you can send a large 
and heavy envelope with $1.

Lai's postcards are simple, filled with a single pastel shade backing designs of common day objects created by erasing the colour off the paper. What caught my attention were the stamps, most of which date back many decades, from a time stamps were cheaply massed produced with the simplest designs and colour (usually one, other than black and white). Nostalgia. Some of which still sit in my stamp collection in some dusty corner of my apartment.

Where on earth is Guinea-Bissau?
West Africa, between Senegal and Guinea.

Two thousand yuan
is a lot of money, then and now.

Half a cent, Nationalist China

Rama IX of Thailand

More from Nationalist China

People's Republic of China

The Queen and the Spider

The last thing Michael Rockefeller
ever saw

P is for Poland and pencil

The Queen of Australia was Elizabeth II

The button looks like the flower.
Perfect symmetry.

THE WORLD (POSTCARDS)

by Lai Yu Tong

Esplanade Tunnel

19 March - 28 June 2026

The World (Postcards) - Esplanade

PIANO LESSONS on DEUTSCHE GRAMMOPHON / CHRISTOPH ESCHENBACH / Review

 

PIANO LESSONS

CHRISTOPH ESCHENBACH, Piano

Deutsche Grammophon 483 9846 (16 CDs)

Did you once dread going for piano lessons, without having practised your set pieces over the past week? Did you remember lugging along that thickest of piano books, the Schirmer Sonatina Album and having to remember what you last played? Oh, those were the days, but little did you know all that slogging would eventually lead to that moment at a children’s concert, hogging the spotlight playing on the school piano, getting eliminated at some piano competition, or charming and amusing your friends at some soiree much later in life.

That ubiquitous yellow album
every piano student of a certain age lugs around.

This box-set assembled by Deutsche Grammophon brings back all those memories, and the names of composers you once thought were gods but have more or less been forgotten. And there is no better guide that the former child prodigy and now highly-respected conductor the German Christoph Eschenbach, in recordings he made in the 1960s and 70s.

Christoph Eschenbach as a very young pianist.

Ferdinand Beyer, not Porsche!

The first disc is devoted to the German Ferdinand Beyer (1803-1863), whose Vorschule im Klavierspiel (Pre-School in Piano Playing, Op.101) is a primer of basic keyboard technique. Most of the 63 very short and simple pieces are in C major (no sharps or flats) and G major (only F sharp), and built upon the interval of the third and triads. Master these, remove Beyer and slap on some 20th century minimalist name (Glass or Einaudi will do), and you are ready to make millions.

Czerny was Beethoven's student,
and Liszt's teacher. Great pedigree.

There is some perverse pleasure to be had listening to two discs of Carl Czerny (1791-1857) in 30 Etudes de mechanisme (Op.849) and The School of Velocity (Op.299), where mind-numbing note-spinning has been raised to a fine art. Note also those insanely high opus numbers (does the man even sleep?) More significantly, he had been the teacher of the child Franz Liszt, whose Study in Twelve Exercises (S.136) from 1826 strongly bore Czerny’s imprints. These would eventually become transformed into his 12 Transcendental Etudes (S.139).

The German Friedrich Burgmuller (1806-1874) was a contemporary of Robert Schumann, and his 25 Etudes faciles et progressives (Easy and Progressive Studies, Op.100) are far more charming than their titles suggest. These are more than a challenge for Schumann’s Album for the Young, which have unfortunately not been included in this collection, with the sole exception of The Merry Peasant (Op.68 No.10).

Whoever knew Friedrich Kuhlau
was blind in one eye?

Then we come to the Danish composer Friedrich Kuhlau (1786-1832), whose sonatinas for children have been lumped together with those of Italian composer Muzio Clementi (1752-1832). These are highly effective primers for beginners of the piano, and can sound impressive in the right hands. I have personally heard these in the Thailand Steinway Youth Competition and can attest for their didactic quality.

Muzio Clementi, after whom
Clementi new town was named.
Nah, that was his grandson!

The immortal J.S.Bach

Now we get to the composers whom posterity had deemed their greatness, and deservedly so. Johann Sebastian Bach’s Two Part Inventions (BWV.772-786) and Three Part Inventions or Sinfonias (BWV.787-801) are perfect for those learning polyphonic playing for the first time. These can still be challenging for adult performers. Six Little Preludes (BWV.933-938) and selected dances from the French and English Suites have also been included. Three selections from the Anna Magdalena Notebook have now been identified to be by Christian Petzold (1677-1733) – that ubiquitous Minuet in G – and Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach (1714-1788). Odds and ends from Jan Ladislav Dussek (1760-1812) and Anton Diabelli (1781-1858) have also been included.

C.P.E.Bach, like father like son.

So that's what Christian Petzold looked like!

Haydn wrote some 62 piano sonatas, at last count.

From Joseph Haydn (1732-1809), there are eight sonatas, increasing in degrees of complexity. The C major (Hob.XVI:35) built on the C major triad falls within the hands of a talented ten-year-old, while the D major (Hob.XVI:37) was well-known enough to be spoofed by Shostakovich in his First Piano Concerto. The E minor, G major and E flat major sonatas (Hob.XVI:34, 40 and 49) are in the remit of adults, and do get heard occasionally in international piano competitions.

It is said that the sonatas of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791) are “too easy for amateurs but too difficult for professionals”. How true that is. Nine sonatas are represented including the C major Sonata Facile (K.545), obviously, but from there the learning curve becomes far steeper. The A major (K.331), famous for its opening Theme and Variations and Rondo alla Turca (Turkish March) is by no means simple. The sonatas in A minor, B flat major and F major (K.310, 333 and 533) were famously in the recorded repertory of Dinu Lipatti, Vladimir Horowitz and Emil Gilels respectively.

There is a single sonata disc of Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827) that is rightly the territory for proficient young people. This contains the Op.49 pair (my first introduction to Beethoven sonatas), Op.14 pair (not so easy) and the delightful Op.79. The two short Sonatinas in G and F major belong to children. Besides being popular and famous, the Pathetique (Op.13) and Moonlight (Op.27 No.2) are actually advanced works. The same would apply to the F minor (Op.2 No.1) and A flat major (Op.26 “Funeral March”) sonatas.

The set is completed by eight books of Felix Mendelssohn’s (1809-1847) Songs Without Words, each comprising six pieces of varying degrees of difficulty. The Venetian Boat Songs and several of the slower numbers are simple enough, but Mendelssohn was a keyboard virtuoso himself and his Hunting Song (Op.19 No.3) and Spinning Song (Op.67 No.4, also known as The Bee’s Wedding) are concert hall material – just ask Jorge Bolet and Sergei Rachmaninoff.

Christoph Eschenbach plays for
Herbert von Karajan.

A slightly older Christoph Eschenbach.

This is a splendid set of piano pieces, lovingly performed by Christoph Eschenbach, which should engage for many hours the budding piano player, young and not so young.