Showing posts with label Lee Yuk Chuan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lee Yuk Chuan. Show all posts

Friday, 25 April 2025

COMPOSITIONS EXCHANGE 2025: SOLO & CHORAL / Association of Composers (Singapore) / Review

 


COMPOSITIONS EXCHANGE 2025: 
SOLO & CHORAL 
Association of Composers (Singapore) 
Esplanade Recital Studio 
Wednesday (23 April 2025)

This review was published in The Straits Times on 25 April 2025 with the title "Home-grown composers in the spotlight at Association of Composers concert" (online edition) and "Good music from home-grown composers bringing people together" (print edition).

There are probably more musical composers in Singapore than one suspects. Many do not get commissions from major national arts organisations or get performed by high profile musicians, but they persevere nonetheless. 

Association of Composers (Singapore) is one of several composer collectives that exist here, and regularly showcases its members’ works in annual concerts. This evening’s concert was a showcase of music for choir and solo keyboard, with twelve works being heard. 


The first segment saw 17 singers of EVOKX Choir conducted by Keane Ong in a variety of choral music. Xiao Chunyuan’s Shiva, based on the mantra Om Nama Shivaya with words by local poet Edwin Thumboo, had an a cappella refrain on a D minor bass imbued with a spirit of contemplation. 


Soh Kay Cheng and Mary Soh’s Welcoming Autumn accompanied by pianist Dale Huang offered recitatives in Chinese, and evoked serenity with New Age harmonies. 


Quite different was Daniel Kom’s Burning Flames, a salute to the heroism following the September 11 catastrophe. Part inspired by the drama of Mozart’s Requiem, the narrative of saving lives turned tragedy into something positive. Wang Xin’s I Sing For You, Singapore was an ode to the nation turning 60, and had the feel-good vibes of National Day Parade songs. 


The keyboard solo segment was helmed by organist Emma Jiang Wan and pianist Clarence Lee, exhibiting no little virtuosity. Refreshingly left of field was Jiang playing her original composition Fast Track on a Yamaha Electone. This was a most exuberant and entertaining work with jazzy riffs and ostinatos riding over pre-programmed beats. 


Lee’s first two piano solos relived the violence in contemporary idioms. Cao Ying’s Conspiracy was built up to Sergei Prokofiev levels of dissonance and percussiveness. Zhao Lingyan’s The Loulan City in the Wind, while more descriptive in nature, was an excellent tone poem more aligned with the aggressiveness of Dmitri Shostakovich despite its Debussyan Impressionist title. 

By contrast, Ng Eng Thong’s Awake was lyrical and dreamlike. Calmness was maintained on high registers, its gradual crescendo concluding abruptly with repeated high Cs. 


The 90-minute concert closed with the 25-member One Chamber Choir conducted by Dawn Yin performing four works. Compared with the earlier choral segment, this one had an overall more cheerful feel. 


Quek Yong Siu’s Dandelion and the Tree was clothed with beautiful harmonies, reflecting the love between mother and child. Chiew Keng Hoon’s Moon had wider dynamics while exhibiting the same degree of a cappella warmth. 


Accompanied by Huang’s piano, Liu Bin’s Tao was sung by eleven men, a surprisingly light-hearted look at Laozi’s Tao Te Ching with an emphasis on the words “dao” (the way) and “ming” (clarity and brightness). 


Finally Lee Yuk Chuan’s Star, Friends for mixed choir was both congenial and affable in spirit, a loving tribute directed at the 92-year-old composer-conductor who was seated behind the audience. Good music brings people together, and this concert was a testimony to that indefatigable credo.

Lee Yuk Chuan acknowledges
One Chamber Choir's splendid work.

Pioneering composer and choral conductor
Lee Yuk Chuan, a star meets with his friends.

Sunday, 4 September 2011

THE SINGAPOREAN STRING QUARTET / Review



THE SINGAPOREAN STRING QUARTET
Artsylum and Oxley Quartets
Esplanade Recital Studio
Friday (2 September 2011)



This review was published in The Straits Times on 5 September 2011 with the title "Salute to composers".

While the notion of Singaporean string quartets may not be immediately appealing, reality threw up a most fascinating concert featuring seven very individual Singaporean voices. However, one may be excused for being somewhat confused to find three women in black lying on the floor and babbling in Chinese, Malay and Tamil, as a tape of ambient noise played on.

That was the opening gambit, the World Premiere of Weird Witches (2011) by Jun Zubillaga-Pow, a play on the opening of Shakespeare’s Macbeth with a quasi-political message. But where were the strings?

The mystery was solved when two quartet groups made the stage to perform two quartets each. The Artsylum Quartet (below), led by violinist Ng Wei Ping, performed Kelly Tang’s String Quartet (1990, revised 2011) and Jeremiah Li’s Three Korean Scenes (2006). Both were early works in their creative outputs but revealed coherent thoughts and much self-belief.


Tang’s concentrated single-movement distilled influences of the Second Viennese School into a tonal canvas without losing sight of its main thematic thrusts. A worthy academic exercise, quite different from the freedom of Li’s conjuring up impressions of his Korean memories – morning mists and birdsong, a frenetic train ride and the reassuring smell of coffee! The four young Singaporean players brought out the contrasts well.

The slightly more mature Oxley Quartet (below) is formed by a Singaporean, Australian, German and Briton. They were entrusted with Phoon Yew Tien’s String Quartet (1980) and Benjamin Lim’s Through The Glass (2007) and Porcelain Harlequin (2008). It was a pleasure to see and hear the foreign talent confidently handle Phoon’s Chinese-inflected score with such verve, and later put a gloss on Lim’s counterpoint and scherzo-writing.


Both quartets were united and joined by bassist Sanche Jagatheesan for two further works. Lee Yuk Chuan’s Lingzhi Capriccio was the earliest piece, essentially programmatic Chinese music untouched by Western idioms, written for his landmark Chinese opera of 1973. The versatility of the medium saw the pendulum swinging over to the late Leong Yoon Pin’s Largo-Vivace (1982), arguably the evening’s most modern sounding work.

If there was anyone who could transform a Hokkien song into ostinatos that Bartok might have been proud of, it had to be Leong. This salute to our composing legends and emerging creators was a timely and vital one. If only it had a wider audience to share in its glorious diversity.