Showing posts with label Lucas Cheong. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lucas Cheong. Show all posts

Wednesday, 3 August 2022

OFF THE PIANO BENCH / Tian Kexin, Piano Recital with Kerim Vergazov & Lucas Cheong / Review




OFF THE PIANO BENCH

Tian Kexin, Piano

with Kerim Vergazov & Lucas Cheong

Esplanade Recital Studio

Tuesday (2 August 2022)

 

Summer is the season when students pursuing music overseas return to their homeland to perform, sharing with local audiences what they have learned and experienced during their course of study. This was one of many such concerts this year, given by Tian Kexin, an undergraduate at the New England Conservatory of Music.



 

She opened her recital with the first ten pieces from Prokofiev’s cycle Visions Fugitives (Op.22). Its unusual title comes from a verse by Russian poet Konstantin Balmont, “In every fugitive vision, I see worlds filled with the fickle play of rainbows.” These are essentially short prelude-like pieces, fleeting impressions dabbed with a variegated palette of colours.

 

With the young Prokofiev, one senses an enfant terrible but also a Romantic at heart. Tian’s interpretation of these miniatures does nor aim for shock value, evident from its angular melodies, jagged harmonies or seeming grotesqueries. She rather brings out the aural beauty inherent in the harp-like figurations of Pittoresco (No.7) or the lyrical Commodo (No.8). Prokofiev isn’t Prokofiev if he cannot thumb his nose at tradition, which is best heard in the final number, entitled Ridicolosamente (No.10), which Tian plays straight but with tongue firmly lodged in cheek.



 

The late Brahms was a master of short essays, with his Three Intermezzi (Op.117) being prime examples. The hymn-like melody of the first piece was followed with the dark smouldering textures of the second, both of which were keenly contrasted by Tian. The more complex third intermezzo was the most difficult to pull off, and it felt somewhat episodic in her hands. It nonetheless brought her solo segment to a satisfying end.



 

This recital afforded a short cameo for 14-year-old Lucas Cheong, who studies with Kexin’s mentor in Singapore, the Russian pianist Kerim Vergazov. One will rarely encounter more passion than his take on Rachmaninov’s very early Elegie in E flat minor (Op.3 No.1) which also displayed a mastery of sonorities. In the familiar Prelude in G minor (Op.23 No.5), he showed power and projection, and could have better brought out the inner voices from its lyrical central section.



 

The short Rachmaninov pieces served as a teaser for the evening’s tour de force with Kexin joined by Kerim Vergazov in Rachmaninov’s Symphonic Dances (Op.45). This was the Russian’s final masterpiece, almost a symphony in conception. There has not been a public performance here of the two-piano version since Dmitri Alexeev and Nikolai Demidenko at the 2003 Singapore International Piano Festival, thus this was a rare treat. Like the famous Russian duo, Kexin (Piano I) and Kerim (Piano II) played with the keyboards placed side-by-side rather than at opposite ends, thus facilitating better communication.



 

This is music of nostalgia that lays bare Rachmaninov’s Russian soul, expressing his sorrow and regret of leaving his homeland for good. After opening outbursts from both pianos, the first movement’s plaintive melody (heard on alto saxophone in the orchestral version) was well brought out. Just as resonant was the famous quote from his First Symphony, now sounding resigned and retiring, greatly contrasted from the earlier boldness and defiance of his youth.



 

A keen awareness of his mortality drove this work, not least in the spectral waltzing of the central movement. Tinged with sentimental sweetness, this ghostly ballroom dance recalling bygone Tolstoyesque nights was given a chilling realisation by the duo. The finale, now dominated by bells and chants of the Russian Orthodox church rang out in all its glorious clangour. Other quotes, the ever-present Dies Irae and one from his Vespers (All-Night Vigil, Op.37) now came into the fore, standing out through the plethoric textures of both pianos. There was much to enjoy in this performance, mostly because there was a lot of heart and soul in it. The small audience (with Russians among the guests) heartily concurred, according the duo with long and appreciative applause.     




Saturday, 28 May 2022

LUCAS CHEONG Piano Recital / Review



VIVA LA MUSICA

LUCAS CHEONG Piano Recital

Steven Baxter Recital Studio

Yong Siew Toh Conservatory of Music

Friday (27 May 2022)

 

Once in a while, I get invited to listen to a teenager perform. Some of them turn out to be duds, but when  true talent is unveiled, it is cause for celebration. Their names may be familiar now, but I count myself fortunate to have heard the likes of Abigail Sin, Azariah Tan, Jonathan Shin, Nicholas Loh and Nicholas Ho years before they came into the limelight. It is my hope that 13-year-old Lucas Cheong might do the same.

 

Lucas is a Sec.2 student at National Junior College’s International Baccalaureate programme, and private piano student of Russian pedagogue Kerim Vergazov. His hour-long debut piano recital revealed a serious young man, somewhat raw but possessing natural talent, one with much promise to offer and recommend.



 

The evening opened with J.S.Bach’s Prelude & Fugue No.1 in C major from Book One of The Well-Tempered Clavier, where familiarity could be tainted with contempt. Not so, as the well-known Prelude benefited from judicious pedaling, then giving way to an equally good handling of voices for the fugue. In Beethoven's "Pathetique" Sonata in C minor (Op.13), Lucas showed he knew the meaning of Grave. The opening chords were loud and plangent, perhaps too emphatically so, but the effect was arresting. The Allegro di molto e con brio that followed had the right sturm und drang to be just as captivating. There could have been more tenderness in the Adagio cantabile slow movement, but the dramatics returned for the Rondo albeit with a little more light-heartedness. I think he also knows the meaning of “Pathetique” too.

 

The first half closed with Chopin’s Etude in C sharp minor (Op.25 No.7), the slow number also nicknamed “Cello" because of its silken-smooth left hand melody This he delivered with utmost steadfastness, coloured with well-timed and accurate scalic runs, although the right hand accompaniment could have done with greater sensitivity. This is a piece he will grow with, and in time return to with even better understanding.   

 



Thus far, Lucas showed he could play a demanding programme totally from memory and without missing many notes. The ante would be upped in the all-Russian second half which began with five pieces from Prokofiev’s ballet Romeo and Juliet (Op.75). These piano transcriptions by Prokofiev’s own hand would never reproduce the orchestral colours of the original, and that was the case for the first three pieces. Montagues and Capulets sounded cut and dried, dominated by far too many big chords, while Friar Laurence was more stodgy than sympathetic. The mercurial Mercutio came close to tripping over himself on occasion. And then something happened.

 

The Dance of the Girls with Lilies is one of the “easier” pieces in the set, but it was this simplicity that Lucas caught with most alacrity, the languid lilting rhythm adding to its allure. Leaving the best for the last, Romeo and Juliet before Parting or the Balcony Scene represented the high point of the recital. Its gradual build-up was gripping, then its rapturous climax the fruition of pent-up emotion released with one big gigantic outburst of passion.

 



That Lucas has greatest sympathy with Russian music is without doubt (and having a Leningrader as mentor certainly helps), and this continued in the Rachmaninov suite of three pieces. The Prelude in G sharp minor (Op.32 No.12) was atmospherically crafted, its melancholic left hand melody rising ever so enticing from a web of right hand arpeggios. Even better was the Elegie in E flat minor (Op.3 No.1) from the early set of Morceaux de Fantaisie (which includes that infamous Prelude), which had another brewing climax mirroring the earlier Prokofiev. This was a performance which even seasoned professionals would be proud of. Closing the recital was the familiar martial strains of the Prelude in G minor (Op.23 No.5), not the most confident of readings, but had a lovely central section where the music was allowed to sing amid the furious goose-stepping.

 

Lucas’ encore provided a pleasant surprise in Debussy’s La plus que lente, delivered with a good sense of rubato without being too slow (despite the title). Its salon charm and insouciance was well captured, capping an enjoyable recital all round. Lucas has many years of musical discovery and music-making ahead of him, and he is encouraged to indulge in his curiosity for all things musical and artistic. With enlightened guidance, inspired mentorship, with lots of patience and perseverance, a bright future beckons.