Showing posts with label Carlos Levin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Carlos Levin. Show all posts

Tuesday, 26 October 2010

THE JOY OF CHOPIN and SCHUMANN Review



THE JOY OF CHOPIN & SCHUMANN
Sofya Gulyak & Jinsang Lee, Piano
University Cultural Centre
Sunday (24 October 2010)


An edited version of this review was published in The Straits Times on 26 October 2010)

This bicentenary celebration of piano music by Frederic Chopin and Robert Schumann, both composers born in the year 1810, turned out to be a three-hour long marathon. In the company of two of the planet’s brightest young piano talents, hours passed like minutes.

The Russian Sofya Gulyak was the first woman to win top prize at the Leeds International Piano Competition in 2009. She proved her mettle in Chopin’s Second Piano Concerto in F minor (Op.21) and Schumann’s Carnaval (Op.9). The former was accompanied in the chamber transcription by Uruguayan composer Carlos Levin, played by a string quintet formed by the National University of Singapore’s Centre for the Arts.


The quintet’s balance of experience and youth proved a mixed blessing, and the amplification of strings was not necessarily to their advantage. Ensemble was often ragged, staying in tune was a struggle and the first violin’s intonation often straying excruciatingly off pitch. It was Gulyak’s indomitable personality and musicality that held the work together, her sense of drive and cantabile admirable, aided by faultless fingerwork.


Left on her own in the Schumann, the composer’s dual personalities of Florestan and Eusebius were given full rein, exulting in passionate outbursts and gentle pleadings. The lead up to the final march and closing climax was thrilling edge-of-the-seat stuff, with all caution thrown to the winds.


The Korean Jinsang Lee, winner of the 2008 Hong Kong International Piano Competition, brilliantly combined the visceral with the cerebral. Instead of launching into Schumann’s Fantasie in C major (Op.17), he warmed up with Beethoven’s song cycle An Die Ferne Geliebte (To The Distant Beloved) in Liszt’s transcription. There was good reason to this impromptu inclusion, as the final Beethoven melody was quoted in the Schumann, its déjà vu appearance lent a moment of magical nostalgia.

The balance of the work was no less fine, with fearsome octave leaps at the end of the second movement overcome with stunning aplomb, and the finale’s rapturous musings and valedictory big tune finding a sympathetic conclusion.


Closing the memorable evening was Chopin’s First Piano Concerto in E minor (Op.11). The quintet acquitted itself far better in this outing, leading to a more cohesive and satisfying performance all round. Lee’s understated virtuosity was matched by his lyrical facilities, and it may be said that the fragile genius of Chopin and Schumann were more than well served.

The Joy of Chopin & Schumann was part of the NUS Centre for the Arts' ExxonMobil Campus Concert series, and proudly supported by The Chopin Society of Hong Kong.

Sunday, 17 October 2010

Breakfast Meeting of The Chopin Society of Hong Kong


THE JOY OF MUSIC FESTIVAL 2010
Breakfast Meeting of 
The Chopin Society of Hong Kong
YMCA Salisbury
Friday (15 October 2010)

Thank goodness for Friday afternoon flights on JetStar, as this allowed me the time to attend The Chopin Society of Hong Kong’s annual breakfast meeting, held in conjunction with each The Joy of Music Festival. As before, this extremely informal event was a meeting of minds on the discussion of issues in music, and the subject on this occasion was about inspiration versus perspiration in musical composition. “How much of a composer’s work was an act of pure inspiration?” asked Dr Andrew Freris (above).

Thirty-seven Hong Kong composers were invited, but none attended (presumably there was neither monetary incentive nor publicity involved), however present were two composers – the Uruguayan Carlos Levin and the Malaysian Tengku Irfan.



According to Levin (above), inspiration was the least of a composer’s problems. He quoted Stravinsky who once remarked that composition was like living within a society – it is constrained by certain rules and social customs. A composer has to work within a narrow set of norms and utilising limited means. He does not create something out of nothing but brings together sounds and musical ideas, or what he refers to as “elements of original stimuli”. There is order in this self-limiting process, and anything that functions outside of this brings only a chaos of sounds.



It is thus more comforting for composers to work within form and a fixed framework, but they could be original, like the famous example of Haydn holed up for decades in Esterhaza, whom without distraction or influence was “forced to be creative”. Tonality itself effectively determines how a piece of music will eventually pan out. A classical triad of notes already predetermines how a melody would go. A composer just goes on to add a second line, turning monody to polyphony, and to build vertically, adding further notes that would alter the colour of the music. He demonstrated this on a piano, speaking in Spanish while the Andrew and Anabella Freris translated.

While this predetermination takes the “romanticism” out of composition, a creative composer is one who works well within these rules, developing his own ideas, elaborating and making variations. The most inspired of them go on to break with tradition and do something new.



Then Tengku Irfan was invited to demonstrate on the piano some of the ideas he had hatched in his recent compositions, which included a piano quintet and a symphony. Irfan is only eleven years old, and is already a celebrity pianist in his own nation, one who performs his own cadenzas in piano concertos. Immediately, he brought out an idea on the piano, a descending scale from his piano quintet and then went on to break it up into varying motifs and fragments, which became his exposition. Following that he played the opening movement of his symphony, much to the amazement of all around. He also spoke of his admiration of Mahler symphonies and their inspirations and looked forward to hearing all the symphonies played by the Malaysian Philharmonic Orchestra.



Clearly he had understood a composer’s craft. Was it something innate or was it taught? Perhaps it was a bit of both, and he was encouraged to continue learning, listening and experiencing all forms of music and the arts without limitation or constraints. This young man is well worth watching out for in the years to come.


Pianomaniac gets to meet Carlos Levin.
whose chamber transcriptions of Chopin's piano concertos
were premiered at The Joy of Music Festival 2010.

Saturday, 16 October 2010

THE JOY OF MUSIC FESTIVAL: JINSANG LEE and the London Chamber Orchestra Quintet / Review

THE JOY OF MUSIC FESTIVAL 2010

JINSANG LEE with the

London Chamber Orchestra Quintet

City Hall Concert Hall, Hong Kong

Wednesday (13 October 2010)


This evening’s programme is unlikely to be repeated for some time to come, as Korean pianist Jinsang Lee, 1st prize winner of the 2008 Hong Kong International Piano Competition, performed the chamber versions by Carlos Levin of Chopin’s Piano Concerto No.1 in E minor (Op.11) and three concertante works. How often has one heard the Fantasia of Polish National Airs (Op.13), the Krakowiak (Op.14) or the La ci darem Variations (Op.2) other than on complete recordings of Chopin’s music? In a word, never. So this was going to be a total treat.


The three shorter works were performed first, and it was an hour long of early Chopin. That could have sounded dreary, but Lee was no empty note-spinner. He takes great care with every note, and nothing sounds supercilious in his hands. The Fantasia began nocturne-like and then meandered its way into an aria and dance, in a three-part potpourri. Not the most memorable of Chopin (his far more compact Mazurkas have greater impact) but very pleasant, and for once one notices the orchestral part played by a quintet from the London Chamber Orchestra, which sounded like a folk music band. The Krakowiak is more direct in its intentions, and its gallop-like dance joyously leapt out of the pages through Lee’s refined fingers.



The Op.2 Variations were a virtuoso’s paradise, and Lee negotiated its long introduction with much eloquence and the subsequent punishing variations with great aplomb. By the time the Alla Polacca (the final variation) concluded, the hall erupted with enthusiastic applause. It should be noted that on this very same evening, a certain Lang Lang was performing across the harbour at the Cultural Centre. But the far more discerning people in this hall knew they were hearing the real deal.


Chopin’s First Piano Concerto also benefited in its chamber guise. The tuttis were full-bodied, resounding like a big ensemble from just five players. It was a joy just watching double-bassist Stacey Watton (a man despite a woman’s name) providing those deep bass notes with much conviction. He provided the vital heartbeat to the whole evening’s fare. Lee was, as always, unflappable, making music wherever his fingers took him. The cantabile passages were lovingly delivered, and he made most of Chopin’s very tricky piano writing. Amid the mass of notes, Lee had some awry moments but these were expertly ironed over, leaving nary a trace in the memory. It should be remembered that he played nearly 100 minutes of music in total, an amazing feat of endurance, concentration and the will.


And there was even time for two encores. Russian composer Alexander Scriabin paid Chopin the ultimate tribute in his Nocturne in D flat major (Op.9 No.2) for the left hand, which Lee (and the audience) lapped up with great relish. And he closed with Schumann’s touching tribute to Chopin, that little movement from Carnaval, but dressed up with some ear-tickling harmonies for good effect. I am pretty sure that both Chopin and Schumann would not have minded.

THE JOY OF MUSIC FESTIVAL: SOFYA GULYAK and The London Chamber Orchestra Quintet / Review



THE JOY OF MUSIC FESTIVAL

SOFYA GULYAK with the

London Chamber Orchestra Quintet

City Hall Concert Hall, Hong Kong

Tuesday (12 October 2010)



Frederic Chopin has been much maligned on the strengths (or rather weaknesses) of the orchestrations in his piano concertos. The truth is this: he was first and foremost a pianist, and all his music highlighted the brilliance of his playing. No orchestra was to get in his way (à la Brahms) in his piano concertos. These were never meant to be an equal partnership in the first place, which is why chamber versions of his piano concertos sound, if anything, can sound superior to the orchestral versions we are familiar with.


The Joy of Music Festival 2010 unveiled the World Premieres of both Chopin concertos in chamber transcriptions for string quintet by Uruguayan composer Carlos Levin (left). At once, one is struck by the how symphonic five string players can sound in the opening tutti of the Second Piano Concerto in F minor (Op. 21), performed this evening. In fact they yield nothing to the original version, setting the mood and tone for Russian pianist Sofya Gulyak’s entry.




Gulyak is not a tall woman, but she is compactly built, with a slow centre of gravity. She has both power and precision in her playing, which belies a silken touch when called upon. Her Chopin sounds totally natural and unforced, shaping her cantabile lines beautifully, yet with muscle and sinew to the fortissimo passages. Her use of rubato was also tastefully applied, bringing nuance and character to the music. The nocturne-like slow movement was particularly beautiful, with the hushed strings providing very discreet support yet heightening the tension as the music gradually reached a passionate climax. The Rondo finale was delightful, with Gulyak’s clean fingerwork spot on throughout. Even if the viola solo does not quite replicate the French horn, Joel Hunter’s obvious zest in delivering it made up for that. A very satisfying and enjoyable performance all round.


The second half was all Gulyak’s in Schumann’s solo piano music. The choice of works also highlighted his wonderful variety of styles. The Abegg Variations (Op.1), his first published work, can sound unbelievably fussy, but Gulyak’s pristine handling of the filigreed passages over a gentle waltz rhythm was close to perfection. She also kept the 13 movements of Kinderszenen (Scenes from Childhood) simple and childlike, but not without sacrificing an element of virtuosity. The familiar Träumerei was a little slow for my liking, but not to the point of protractedness.



Caution was cast into the wind for Carnaval (Op.9), and here Gulyak took all sorts of risks, surging and straining at the reins whenever possible. Every short movement was given a character of its own, yet she brought the sum of the parts seamlessly. There were a few wrong notes here and there, but that was a small price to pay for her dedication to realising Schumann’s Florestan (passionate and impetuous) and Eusebius (reflective and retiring). The final march was built on a full head of steam, bringing the work to a triumphant close.


Her two encores were also varied, first Rachmaninov’s popular Prélude in C sharp minor (Op.3 No.2), played as a Russian would with great gusto, and that lovely Marcello-Bach slow movement from the Oboe Concerto. It was perfectly clear why she won the Leeds in 2009 – Gulyak is a little bit special.