ARMEN BABAKHANIAN Piano Recital / Review

ARMEN BABAKHANIAN Piano Recital

Yong Siew Toh Conservatory 

Orchestral Hall

Tuesday (16 January 2024)

Piano fanciers and long-time followers of the international piano competition circuit will recognise the name of Armen Babakhanian, the Armenian pianist who first burst onto the scene at the 1993 Van Cliburn International Piano Competition. He was one of six finalists, remembered for his serious demeanour and super-intense performances. A few years later, he was also among the prize-winners at the 1996 Leeds International Piano Competition.

These days, Babakhanian lives in Kuala Lumpur and is one of the most highly respected piano pedagogues in Malaysia. Among his students is Singapore's Toby Tan, who commutes regularly to have lessons with him. Under his watch, Toby won prizes in several youth international piano competitions, including in Aarhus (Denmark) and Zhuhai (China). Babakhanian's solo recital at the Conservatory showed exactly why he is in great demand.

Photo: Toby Tan

Opening with two contrasting Beethoven sonatas, he crafted with utter simplicity the opening themes of the Sonata in E flat major (Op.27 No.1), one of two sonatas which carry the Quasi una fantasia description (the other is the Moonlight Sonata). It was plain spoken but totally lyrical, contrasted with the torrent-like waves of sound in the second movement. In the chorale-like third movement, he found a prayerful countenance, which returned like a deja vu dream as a counter to the finale's total busyness, a magical moment if any.    

What followed was the Sonata in F minor (Op.57), better known as the Appassionata, and what an intense reading it was. Babakhanian knows how to create the mood, which was duly applied to the opening movement's seriousness. Here, the passion is equated to some kind of inner tragedy, and the listener is never left with any doubt as to his conception. The slow movement's variations were mere respite before the finale's coruscating drive to the abyss, a perpetuum mobile of impending doom. Here, one would marvel as his deft use of pedalling, generating crystal-clear textures amid a sea of echoing sonorities. There was no let off, and the even faster coda further upped the ante for a tumultuous finish.

Photo: Toby Tan

After a short intermission was a gripping performance of Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition. It seemed ironic that Babakhanian's missed notes occurred in the "simpler" movements, namely the Promenades. In between, the visuals could not have been more vividly characterised. Gnomus was stark and scary, while the troubadour in The Old Castle sang with a plaintive timelessness. The rhythm in Tuileries was playfully toyed around while Bydlo turned into the unrelenting trudge it was meant to be. The intertwined voices of Goldenburg and Schmuyle stuck out for their stridency while the Ballet of the Unhatched Chicks scampered with true lightness.

Heavy duty virtuosity would soon take over in the frenzied Marketplace of Limoges, before striking dissonances of Catacombs and eerie tremolos in the Language of the Dead held sway. The famous closing movements, Baba Yaga's Hut and Great Gate of Kiev, were a no-holds-barred display of bare-knuckled octaves and sonorous tolling bells, the sheer plethora of sound being the grandstanding conclusion.

Rapturous applause from a near full house (who doesn't welcome a free concert?) was gifted with two excellent encores with more musical pictures in mind. Rachmaninov's Etude-tableaux in A minor (Op.39 No.6), more a portrait of Big Bad Wolf than Red Riding Hood, and Chopin's C minor Etude (Op.25 No.12), sometimes known as Ocean, were tossed off with utmost passion and gratefully received. 

Photo: Toby Tan