TOROS CAN
Piano Recital
Saturday (29 March 2014 )
This review was published in The Straits Times on 31 March 2014 with the title "Mouth-watering piano treat".
For
an Islamic nation, Turkey has produced a surprising number of high
level Western classical musicians. This may be attributed to its progressive, open-minded
Euro-leaning culture over the decades and the pioneering work by German
composer-pedagogue Paul Hindemith during the 1930s.
Just
sticking to pianists, one might already know of Idil Biret, Fazil Say and Ozgur
Aydin. Now meet Toros Can, a Yale graduate, who gave one of the most unusually
eclectic piano recitals in memory here. Revealing very catholic tastes, his
two-hour recital traversed from traditional classical repertoire to the musical
equivalent of pop art.
Beginning
with Schubert’s Sonata (D.485), the
longer of two great sonatas in A minor, Can tapped into the Austrian’s world of
the Lieder (art song). Within its
four movements, he freed a wellspring of melancholy and wistfulness, translated
as darkly shaded chords and no little lyricism. By not playing repeats, he kept
the narrative short-winded, and in the excitable final Rondo, the dramatics lifted the mood even if unspoken tragedy was
the underlying tenor.
Like many American-trained musicians, Can spoke engagingly to a small but receptive audience. The second half, in his own words, was “when the fun begins”. There were two fugal works, but neither by J.S.Bach. Karol Szymanowski’s Prelude and Fugue in C sharp minor was thick with lush dissonances, but the contrapuntal lines were handled with great clarity.
Can
played Cesar Franck’s Prelude, Fugue and
Variation using its original score for organ rather than the Harold Bauer
transcription favoured by pianists. Perhaps trying to imitate the pipe organ’s sonority,
the end result was somewhat effortful, but the embellished reprise of the main
melody at the end was sublime.
The
last three pieces, dovetailing 17th century and late 20th to early 21st century
sensibilities, piqued the ear with sheer outrageousness. Late British composer
Jonathan Harvey’s Tombeau De Messiaen (1994),
a memorial for the great Frenchman, combined taped sounds (now reproduced on an
Apple computer) with crashing chords, cascading carillons and birdsong. The
effect was that of two pianos going head to head, but the tuning being a
microtone apart and distortion from the speakers meant that the bold experiment
was not fully realised.
Then
came three dainty dances from a keyboard suite by Henry Purcell, with the piano
now made to sound like a harpsichord with its plucked effects. What truly
brought down the house was Dutchman Jacob ter Veldhuis’s The Body Of Your Dreams (2003).
Nominally
a minimalist piece, the piano here flexed its rock-influenced muscles against an
aural collage of taped television fitness and health product commercials. Try
as hard as one might, it is difficult not to supress laughter on hearing repeated
messages like, “That cellulite and flabbiness…How can you beat it?”
The now riotous evening concluded with an encore, Can’s own 4-hand version of Morton Gould’s Boogie Woogie Etude, with the help of his page-turner for the evening, the young Singaporean pianist Nicholas Ho. The rhythmic bonbon had the same effect as downing a Turkish delight after dinner: mouth-watering.
The now riotous evening concluded with an encore, Can’s own 4-hand version of Morton Gould’s Boogie Woogie Etude, with the help of his page-turner for the evening, the young Singaporean pianist Nicholas Ho. The rhythmic bonbon had the same effect as downing a Turkish delight after dinner: mouth-watering.
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