ROMANCE & FIRE: ZHANG HAOCHEN PLAYS RACH 3 / Orchestra of the Music Makers / Review

 

ROMANCE & FIRE:

HAOCHEN ZHANG PLAYS RACH 3

Orchestra of the Music Makers

Esplanade Concert Hall

Saturday (10 January 2026)

This review was published in The Straits Times on 12 January 2026 with the title "William Walton's First Symphony steals thunder from Rachmaninov in OMM concert".

The selling point of the Orchestra of the Music Makers’ latest concert may have been Sergei Rachmaninov’s popular Third Piano Concerto featuring a star pianist, but in reality the big news was the Singapore premiere of English composer William Walton’s First Symphony.

William Walton as a young man

Led by music director Chan Tze Law, the 45-minute four-movement masterpiece was moulded in the hallowed tradition of Edward Elgar’s two massive symphonies. However, its overall tone was completely different. Gone were grandstanding moments of nobilmente (nobility), in its place a nervous tension that was stoked up from the very first page.

The opening movement’s angst was developed incrementally, building up to seemingly suffocating climaxes, and then without relenting went for the jugular instead. The vitriolic Scherzo marked “con malizia” (with malice) sounded more like “with mischief”, but this belied a deeper despair that finally came to fruition in the slow movement.

Photo: Yong Junyi

Now marked “con malinconia” (with melancholy), a series of aria-like solos heralded by Cheryl Lim’s flute paved a path of catharsis that was laid bare in this deeply felt performance. The finale, composed separately and later than the preceding three movements, sounded like a completely different work altogether.

Photo: Yong Junyi

Its optimistic tone signalled a change of fortunes, which was milked for all its worth, including a triumphant fugue at its climax. Its suitably protracted close had the audience applauding prematurely at a false ending. Conductor Chan, a proven Wagnerian, Mahlerian and Elgarian, can now add Waltonian to his many accolades.

Rachmaninov’s Third Piano Concerto seemed almost like an afterthought, but young Chinese pianist Haochen Zhang, joint winner of the 2009 Van Cliburn International Piano Competition, made several personal points in this overworked warhorse.

His was not the fire-breathing performance one might usually expect, but a carefully thought-out one well-worked with orchestra and conductor. By placing the piano ahead rather than flush with the slightly pared-down orchestra, he was able to fearlessly project. He did so with utmost clarity and immediacy, sometimes emphasising left hand notes and bringing out hidden voices.

Photo: Yong Junyi

The score’s myriad technical challenges seemed like putty in his hands, and he chose the longer and thornier chordal cadenza to cap the opening movement. The orchestra also worked more like a partner rather than mere accompanist, and it was a joy to hear Seow Yibin’s solo oboe ring out the Intermezzo’s brooding main theme with much poignancy. The temperature then rose for the rapturous finale, and Zhang’s faultless fingers romped home to a reception of thunderous applause richly deserved.

Photo: Yong Junyi

After the showboating, Zhang’s mellow encores served like a salve. Claude Debussy’s And The Moon Descends On The Temple That Was from Images (Book Two) revealed beautiful voicing and Robert Schumann’s Traumerei (Dreaming) from Scenes from Childhood was the perfect parting gift for a totally engaged audience.

Zhang Haochen shuts the piano lid for the
last time, much to the audience's amusement.

ZHANG HAOCHEN Piano Recital / Review

 

ZHANG HAOCHEN Piano Recital 

Victoria Concert Hall 

Friday (23 May 2025)

Zhang Haochen was the reason how I got to attend the Van Cliburn International Piano Competition in Fort Worth, Texas. He was awarded joint first prize (tying with Nobuyuki Tsujii) at the 2009 competition, and had been engaged in 2011 to perform two concerts presented by the Singapore Chinese Orchestra. As a member of SCO’s Artist Committee, I was afforded tickets to attend the 2013 competition, where I witnessed first-hand the rise of Vadym Kholodenko and Beatrice Rana, who have since become pianistic icons in their own right. 

Now at 35, Zhang Haochen is no longer the bright-eyed, wet-behind-the-ears post-wunderkind rookie but a seasoned stage veteran with several high-profile recordings (including a highly-rated Beethoven piano concerto cycle with the Philadelphia Orchestra on BIS) behind his name. His first solo recital here since 2011 was a sober affair, with just two major sonatas and none of the virtuoso fodder that pleases audiences and typically draws large crowds. That itself is a sign of maturity. 

His recital opened with Schubert’s Sonata in G major (D.894), sometimes referred to as Fantaisie. This was not the Wanderer Fantasy but a large-scale sonata that precedes the famous final trilogy (D.958-960). It ought to be better known, but the lack of showiness and inordinate length (almost forty minutes) militate against that. The sonata opens with a sigh, a long-breathed motif that is at odds with the emphatic statements made in succeeding sonatas. Sustaining this and capturing attention over the lengthy first movement’s broad vistas is difficult (although Sviatoslav Richter did it gloriously), which was why Zhang omitting the exposition repeat was an astute move. He kept this retiring music moving along, and while giving the development section an earlier chance to flex its muscles. 

The slow movement was Lieder at its purest and melancholic, contrasted by a vigorous Menuetto and Trio, which were most musically rendered. The finale was a delight, its opening almost a retort to the first movement’s sigh before launching into possibly Schubert’s jolliest and most carefree music. I have frequently joked that this was Schubert’s ragtime (akin to Beethoven’s boogie-woogie in the variations of Op.111), its and infectious lightness and levity perfectly handled by Zhang all the way to its happy close. Much as I loved this reading, it will not efface memories of Melvyn Tan’s smiling, dancing and prancing his way on a fortepiano way back in 1989. 

The other big work was Liszt’s Sonata in B minor, arguably the greatest single movement of piano music ever conceived. I felt Zhang’s introduction of the first three motifs to be cut and dried, but there was a reason for this, soon to be apparent. Extreme clarity was to define his performance, making sure that every theme, motif and note to be heard without smudging or textures, nor drowned by that refuge for multiple sins – the sustaining pedal. How often lesser technicians would hide digital inadequacies behind sostenuto, but Zhang would have none of that. The rampaging octaves were as clean-cut and precise as one could possibly hope for, leading to the fourth motif – the memorable wide-striding Grandioso. 

Photo: Pianomaniac

As musical architecture goes, Zhang had its full measure, clearly delineating when one “movement” ended and the next began without disrupting the flow. While the first was an expository sermon of fire and brimstone, the central “movement” in F sharp major was a contemplation in prayerful repose, and how he made each section truly matter. That is the essence of Romantic playing, by bringing these wide contrasts into the consciousness of his listeners by force of persuasion and eloquence, not knocking their heads into submission with virtuosic devices and gestures. 

The final "movement", beginning with the surreptitious fugato, was again a beacon of clarity. The climactic pages with octaves and chords were voluminous, achieved without banging, before the sonata’s beatific close with the first motif of descending bass notes. There was nearly a half-minute of silence before a most tumultuous audience response. 

Zhang’s four generous encores, alternating between slow and first, constituted another recital of its own. How he contrasted the colours and nuances in Debussy’s La fille aux chevaux de lin (The Girl with the Flaxen Hair) and Horowitz’s Carmen Variations (with his own personal rubatos and touch-ups) was itself worth the price of entry. This was followed by Chopin’s Nocturne in C sharp minor (Op.posth), the Lento con gran espressione in its alternative version, and Liszt’s epic Chasse Neige (Transcendental Etude No.12) with its snow blizzards sending a chill down the spine. Zhang Haochen’s return to Singapore cannot come soon enough.

Photo: Pianomaniac

All photos by Ung Ruey Loon.

Zhang Haochen's piano recital 

was presented by Altenburg Arts.

I've got all of Haochen's CDs
and am still collecting!
Photo: Peter Chng

A PIANO RECITAL NOT TO MISS: ZHANG HAOCHEN on Friday 23 May 2025

Here is a piano recital not to miss. The young Chinese pianist ZHANG HAOCHEN has made waves after sharing joint first prize at the 2009 Van Cliburn International Piano Competition. He was the first ever Chinese pianist to garner this accolade, and at the age of 19 was the youngest pianist to do so as well.

He has performed in Singapore with the Singapore Symphony and Singapore Chinese Orchestras including Rachmaninov's Second Piano Concerto (2012), Mozart's Piano Concerto No.24 (2019) and The Yellow River Concerto (2011). His first solo recital in Singapore since 2011 sees him perform two great sonatas of the Romantic repertory: 

SCHUBERT Sonata in G major, D.894

LISZT Sonata in B minor

Friday, 23 May 2025

Victoria Concert Hall at 8 pm

Tickets available at SISTIC:

https://www.sistic.com.sg/events/haochen0525

Zhang Haochen with his teacher
 at Curtis Institute, Gary Graffman,
who also taught Lang Lang & Yuja Wang.

Watch this video of

Zhang performing

Liszt's Transcendental Etudes:

Zhang Haochen's piano recital

is presented by Altenburg Arts.

CD Review (The Straits Times, November 2017)

HAOCHEN ZHANG plays

SCHUMANN. LISZT. JANACEK. BRAHMS

BIS 2238 / *****

Of the many young Chinese pianists professing their art in today's concert halls, Zhang Haochen, now 27, is the most thoughtful of keyboard virtuosos. As ironic as that sounds, he eschews the outlandish showiness of Lang Lang, and the glamour and glitz of Yundi or Yuja Wang. 

His new recital album showcases that most valued of qualities: genuine musicality allied with the innate ability of saying what one means. Forget the fact that he can rip through Stravinsky's Three Movements from Petrushka with seemingly the greatest of ease, it is his view of Schumann's Kinderszenen (Scenes From Childhood) that moves. Its 13 movements of utmost simplicity are taken at face value and the music is allowed to speak for itself.

His concession to virtuosity takes place in Liszt's Ballade No.2, which builds to a shattering climax in a less commonly-heard version which replaces left hand scales with chords. In Janacek's Sonata I.X.1905, a young worker's death is remembered in anti-virtuoso terms, in which poetry and poignancy comes to the fore in two concentrated movements. 

The youngest-ever winner of the Van Cliburn International Piano Competition concludes his recital with Brahms' Three Intermezzi Op.117, where song-like qualities and smouldering disquiet come through with an uncommon immediacy. Like holding infinity in the palm of his hand, and eternity in an hour, that is true virtuosity for you. 

SSO Concert: THE FOUR TEMPERAMENTS / Review

THE FOUR TEMPERAMENTS

Singapore Symphony Orchestra

Esplanade Concert Hall

Friday (2 November 2012)

This review was published in The Straits Times on 5 November 2012 with the title "Orchestral colours in four moods".

Some 33 years ago, this reviewer heard a two-dollar pirated cassette recording of Rachmaninov’s Second Piano Concerto by Gary Graffman and the New York Philharmonic conducted by Leonard Bernstein. The romantic, opulent and heart-wrenching music, rendered in an honest-to-goodness yet viscerally thrilling performance, proved to be a life-changing event. The tape was played so often that the reel soon unravelled, chewed up and spat out by the player’s mechanism. In short, I was hooked.

Cassette tapes have gone the way of the typewriter, but the octogenarian Graffman still goes strong as a pedagogue. His students at Philadelphia’s Curtis Institute have included Lang Lang, Yuja Wang and this evening’s soloist Zhang Haochen. Zhang, the first Chinese pianist to win First Prize at the Van Cliburn International Piano Competition in 2009, relived many of those cherished moments in the very same concerto.

Zhang does not come across as a barnstorming pianist, but rather a thinker who instinctively knows the tide, ebb and flow of the music, and how to build up to the big moment. The opening chords gave a clue, beginning with a sigh and closing with a roar. Unfailingly musical, he breathed the same air as the orchestra, never surging unimpeded but always listening to his partners.

The second movement brought out these qualities best, playing the ever-sensitive accompanist as flautist Evgueni Brokmiller and clarinettist Li Xin sang out their solos. And when his turn came, Zhang accepted the gauntlet gratefully, his impeccable technique ever in service of the music. The finale’s tricky interplay of finger-twisting virtuosity and arch-lyricism fell easily within his hands, as pianist and orchestra raced to an exciting photo-finish.

Ever modest and self-effacing, his encore of Debussy’s little prelude The Girl With The Flaxen Hair was the perfect antidote to the surfeit of loud notes that came before.

The concert began with Hindemith’s Concert Music For Strings And Brass, its title typical of the 20^th century German composer’s idea of utility music, compositions crafted for the sake of pedagogy and practice. The dissonance and somewhat astringent themes fell on fertile soil in its two movements, as the orchestra’s brass chorales and busy string counterpoint rang out an enthralling, and even entertaining performance. 

After the Rachmaninov, the audience had significantly thinned in its ranks. Those who left missed an excellent showing of Carl Nielsen’s Second Symphony under the baton of SSO’s Finnish Principal Guest Conductor Okko Kamu. The Dane Nielsen, like his contemporary Sibelius, saw the symphony as his greatest vehicle of musical expression.    

Its four varied movements took the Four Temperaments as their inspirations, beginning with the Choleric, with short tempered and volatile outbursts colouring the first movement. Orchestral colours were on vivid display, even in the Phlegmatic second movement’s leisurely and good natured waltz, aided by a tottering pair of bassoons. A degree of gravitas was injected into the Melancholic, as Brucknerian strings built up to a dead serious and tragic climax.

Even if the joyous outpourings of the Sanguine finale did not fully dispel the earlier gloom, it was the sheer range of emotions covered in its eventful half-hour that impressed, not least by an orchestra that plays like it really means it.    

ZHANG HAOCHEN Piano Recital / Review

ZHANG HAOCHEN Piano Recital
SCO Singapore Conference Hall
Sunday (24 July 2011)

This review was publishe in The Straits Times on 26 July 2011 with the title "Modest Zhang oozes music".

It was not difficult to understand how Zhang Haochen, who at the age of 19, became the first Chinese pianist to win the gold medal at the Van Cliburn International Piano Competition in 2009. His debut solo recital in Singapore reveals a confident young man oozing music from every pore, backed by a maturity beyond his tender years.

The perfect antithesis and antidote to the excesses of Lang Lang, Zhang is modest, almost humble and without airs or affectation. His body language also shows that music comes first, and he is merely a servant of the great composers, not the other way around.

Immediately felt was the gorgeous and pearly piano tone he drew from Schumann’s Kinderszenen (Scenes from Childhood). Each of the thirteen “easy” pieces was given a life of its own, yet coalescing as a whole with an innocence and simplicity that was disarming.

When it came to capturing thunder, there was ample opportunity in Beethoven’s Appassionata Sonata (Op.57) where bare knuckles and fists drew blood. Yet he was the epitome of refinement in the central theme and variations. This encompassing of extremes was what made Zhang’s view of Beethoven so vital and relevant.

The same approach also defined Liszt’s Second Ballade in B minor, where “tragedies of public import” were laid bare with a laser-like precision and clarity, and requisite technique to match. He performed the alternative version with hammered chords in place of right hand scales in the climax, which further added to the drama.

Virtuosity without sensitivity is empty bluster, and Zhang’s variegated touch was put to the test in three Debussy Préludes. Rarely have mystical half-lights and tints come through better in Les sons et les parfums tournent dans l’air du soir (Sounds and Scents Mingle in the Evening Air) or La cathedrale engloutie (The Engulfed Cathedral). A mastery of pedalling and feather-light caresses were the secret.

The sparing use of pedal and percussive approach made Prokofiev’s Seventh Sonata sound the bitter and violent essay that it is. Like the Appassionata before it, his probing and prodding brought out the work’s true character. And when one thought his entry into the toccata-like finale was just too fast, he went for broke and delivered the coup de grace.

Two encores, a Chopin nocturne (C# minor, Op.posth.) and Wang Jianzhong’s Hundred Birds Paying Respect to the Phoenix (Bai Niao Chao Feng), brought down the house. Zhang’s return here will be keenly anticipated.

SCO Concert: Haochen's Yellow River / Review

HAOCHEN’S YELLOW RIVER
Singapore Chinese Orchestra
SCO Singapore Conference Hall
Friday (22 July 2011)

An edited version of this review was published in The Straits Times on 25 July 2011 with the title "Cheers for mountains and rivers".

This concert should perhaps been titled “Mountains and Rivers”, after all a piano concerto does not constitute a concert. The evening began with the world premiere of Eric Watson’s The Land Beneath the Wind, a programmatic symphonic poem about Sabah’s wild frontier.

An experienced orchestrator with Chinese instruments, his colourful score recounted its turbulent history and an atmospheric ascent on mighty Mount Kinabalu. Motifs resembling ethnic music were used and the work culminated with a frenetic celebratory dance.

Equally evocative was Wang Ning’s The Ancient Cadence of Gui Plain, its vastly varied three movements possessing the boldness of Chinese brushstrokes. The impressionist Goddess of Gui River saw Phang Thean Siong’s xiao (vertical flute) paint a dreamy and tranquil landscape, coloured by pipa and guzheng solos, and ethereal voices from keyboard synthesiser.

Pitched and unpitched percussion dominated Homes on the Ancient Cliff and Battling Drums in Banquan, the former a set of variations on a tribal dance and the latter a belligerent call to arms which resonated with a strident ferocity.

The Yellow River (Huang He), often referred to as “China’s sorrow” was the subject of the second half. Cheng Da Chao’s Yellow River Rhapsody was in the familiar slow-fast bipartite form, but it was no copy of Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsodies. Its use of dissonances pitting strings and winds depicted a legacy of toil and tribulation. An ocarina-like blown instrument was the avatar of long-suffering river boatmen, while the dizi spelt their optimism in a vigorous dance to close.

It is perhaps a sign of the times that young Zhang Haochen has never performed the Yellow River Piano Concerto, sine qua non of all Chinese pianists, prior to this. This patriotic potboiler was emblematic of all things Chinese (and socialist) despite blatantly copying the Western Romantic piano idiom of such capitalists as Liszt, Chopin and Rachmaninov.

No matter, the most recent winner of the prestigious Van Cliburn International Piano Competition gave a no holds barred account, stamping every note, octave and chord with an emphatic vehemence. Besides the requisite showboating, he also enveloped each lyrical episode, however rare, with a velvet touch.

A solo recital would surely reveal his true abilities, but on this occasion, fearless bravura had won the day. Egged on by vociferous applause and a highly enthused conductor Yeh Tsung, the finale was encored to more cheers.

CD Reviews (The Straits Times, July 2011)

13th Van Cliburn 

International Piano Competition
ZHANG HAOCHEN, Piano
Harmonia Mundi 907506 / *****

How does a young up-and-coming pianist promote himself? Win a major piano competition and have a CD recorded as a calling card. That was exactly what 19-year-old Zhang Haochen did in 2009, sharing 1st prize with the blind Japanese Nobuyuki Tsujii at the Van Cliburn International Piano Competition. At the time, it was thought that Zhang, then a student, was too young to accept the responsibilities of a winner. However, listening to these “live” competition performances, the maturity and sheer adroitness of the playing suggest otherwise.

There are no edits, and hardly a note is dropped for Stravinsky’s fearsome Three Movements from Petrushka, a typical competition showpiece. In Chopin’s 24 Préludes (Op.28), the magisterial sweep achieved is revelatory, and each individual gem is shaded with polish and finesse. Mason Bates’ blues-inflected White Lies For Lomax, commissioned by the Competition, reveals Zhang’s sympathy for jazz idioms. Closing with Liszt’s Spanish Rhapsody, another barnstorming warhorse is served up with stunning accuracy. Fans of Lang Lang and Wang Yuja will not want to pass up on witnessing this major talent in person.

DON’T MISS:

ZHANG HAOCHEN 

with the Singapore Chinese Orchestra
22 & 23 July 2011, 

Singapore Conference Hall, 8 pm

ZHANG HAOCHEN Piano Recital
24 July 2011, 

Singapore Conference Hall, 5 pm
Tickets available at SISTIC

HIGDON & TCHAIKOVSKY 

Violin Concertos

HILARY HAHN, Violin
Royal Liverpool Philharmonic 

Vasily Petrenko
Deutsche Grammophon 477 8777 / ****1/2

The Violin Concerto by the American composer Jennifer Higdon (born 1962) was dedicated to Hilary Hahn, and sounds to be a durable 21st century virtuoso vehicle. Its two longer slow movements followed by a brief but furious finale superficially resemble the famous concerto of Samuel Barber. Just like Barber, Higdon’s is an accessibly tonal score but not without its share of discords and barbs, residing mostly in the opening movement. The second movement is a long-breathed chaconne that has that expansive feel that has come to define much of American music, followed by an impressive display of fireworks to close.

Hahn’s quicksilver technique and sound projection is peerless, which will win this substantial new work many new friends. Its coupling, the extremely popular Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto, however sounds almost subdued by comparison. Having outgrown her child prodigy years, Hahn’s restrained approach provides a more sober look at a familiar favourite. One just wishes for a little more youthful dash to complement her maturity.