KEVIN ZHU PLAYS SHOSTAKOVICH. TCHAIKOVSKY'S PATHETIQUE / Orchestra of the Music Makers / Review

KEVIN ZHU PLAYS SHOSTAKOVICH 

TCHAIKOVSKY’S PATHETIQUE 

Orchestra of the Music Makers 

Esplanade Concert Hall 

Sunday (21 January 2024)

This review was published in The Straits Times on 23 January 2024 with the title "Kevin Zhu a serious, thinking musician".

 

American Chinese violinist Kevin Zhu continued his fine streak of concerts in Singapore, following up his splendid solo recital on 12 January with a performance of Soviet-era Russian composer Dmitri Shostakovich’s First Violin Concerto in A minor (Op.99) with the Orchestra of the Music Makers conducted by Chan Tze Law. Composed in 1948 but premiered by violin great David Oistrakh in 1955 after dictator Stalin’s death, it is considered the greatest of all 20th century violin concertos. 

 

Zhu and the orchestra played as if they meant every bit of that billing, with the dark and bitter Nocturne probing the innermost depths of the soul. The searing intensity of Zhu’s violin tone and pin-point intonation also made this an enthralling journey, one that also scaled the heights of parody, dripping with acid wit and sarcasm.  

 

His razor-edged reflexes served the quicksilver Scherzo and klezmer-influenced closing Burlesque to a tee, but it was the sheer gravitas displayed in the dead-serious Passacaglia and cadenza that stood out. As if to further emphasise, Zhu’s encore of the slow movement from J.S.Bach’s Sonata No.2 showed that he was no mere showy virtuoso, but a serious and thinking musician as well.  

 

The evening opened unusually with Ravel’s La Valse, a splashy showpiece which often closes concerts with a bang. It did not really matter if OMM chose fun and games first, because this was a portrayal of old Vienna and the beloved waltz at the end of an epoch. Conductor Chan’s mastery of rubato, slowing at parts and later cranking up the velocity gave this performance a sense of inevitability, like a dying empire swallowed up by an unwinnable war.     

 

Polished string playing, which lent an indelible sheen to the Ravel, was called again for Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No.6 in B minor (Op.74), also known as the Pathetique Symphony, which closed the concert. Premiered just a week before his untimely passing, an eternal mystery revolved around on the cause of death: was it cholera or suicide? 

 

This performance left little doubt that the 48-minute-long work was a farewell to life without a final flourish. The oppressive mood of its opening, the droll bassoon solo and descending melodic line on poignant strings left clues, with a furious fugato providing some semblance of struggle against Fate. Even the bittersweet waltz of the second movement was coloured by the timpani’s ominous beat, like a clock running down its time. 

 

The faux ending.

The third movement’s march, inexorable in its progression, was distinguished by crisply spun wind and brass playing. Its loud and pompous ending was merely a ruse, prompting nervous but premature applause but the final tragedy had yet to unfold.  

 

The tam-tam tolls
Tchaikovsky's demise.

That Adagio Lamentoso finale said it all, but OMM’s vision was not one borne of neuroses, but rather world-weariness and ultimate despair. The pacing was judged perfectly, with neither sentimentality nor histrionics as its guide, which made it all the more memorable.      

The actual ending,
in soporific quiet.