Classical Piano and Related Stuff
Chin Kim, NYC Feb 8th, 2019
On Friday February 8th, 2019, violinist Chin Kim performed at the Shoemaker Salon on Central Park West.
Chin Kim is an international violinist who has studied with, among others, Joseph Gingold, the last student of the legendary violinist Eugène Ysaÿe. [Read more…]
Grace Park with the 1799 Lupot violin
On Saturday November 3rd, 2018, violinist Grace Park and pianist Joseph Liccardo performed at Robin Shoemaker’s Central Park West salon.
My anticipation of this event grew when I learned that Ms. Park was playing a 1799 Nicolas Lupot violin.
The first movement contains lively dialog between violin and piano. Ms. Park and Mr. Liccardo maintained an apparently effortless coordination, allowing the Molto Allegro to flow naturally across the movement’s choppy phrasing.
In the Adagio, Ms. Park’s violin rose gracefully (sic) over the accompaniment, first as a slow dance and then to sing. In her hands this violin shone in the higher registers.
Overall, Mozart’s Sonata No. 33 was a well-balanced collaboration between two musicians who clearly loved what they were doing.
This warm, entertaining work was at times expressively lyrical. At other times it was technically demanding. In fact, the Sonata was a showpiece for both musicians.
In that regard, there were moments when Joseph’s piano sounded as sweet as Grace’s exotic violin. And I enjoyed Ms. Park’s vibrant pizzicato immensely.
Neither musician wasted energy on superfluous showmanship. But I had to chuckle when Brahms got the violinist dancing around (apparently on bare feet).
Joseph, Grace and Robin Shoemaker
Souvenir is a wonderfully Russian work and quintessential Tchaikovsky.
There are pounding rhythms reminiscent of the 3rd movement of the 6th Symphony, and soaring melodies. The performers were equally at ease with both.
And again, the collaboration between pianist and violinist was perfect.
This work is Stravinsky’s derivation (with violinist Samuel Dushkin) from his own orchestral ballet “The Fairy’s Kiss”, which in turn was based on songs by Tchaikovsky.
That said, Divertimento is very much Stravinsky’s own unique work, with manic dance rhythms and echoes of his other compositions.
Notwithstanding that they had already been playing for an hour, Mr. Liccardo and Ms. Park engaged Stravinsky with vigor and enthusiasm. The result was a highly enjoyable and often compelling performance.
Some refer to Lupot as the “French Stradivarius”. I didn’t know what to expect of such a unique instrument as his 1799 violin from Paris, but I noticed a particular sweetness in the upper middle register.
Later I asked Ms. Park what it is like for her to play the Lupot. She responded that the instrument is in perfect condition, very responsive to the performer, and crystal clear especially at the top end.
“It sparkles differently than a Strad”, she said. “I love it.”
Igor Levit, Carnegie Zankel October 2018
Igor Levit’s 2017 Carnegie recital was described by one reviewer as “a peak pianistic experience of my concertgoing life”.
I signed up for Levit’s 2018 Carnegie recital hoping for just such an experience.
However for me the repertoire of the October 19th recital alone was sufficient reason to subscribe.
And so, after gorgeing ourselves at the Brooklyn Diner on West 57th Street, my dear wife and I entered Carnegie Zankel stuffed with great food and full of expectations.
I have attended strong two-handed performances of Bach’s D Minor Chaconne (arr. Busoni) by Han Chen and Virna Kljakovic. However Igor Levit was my first live experience of Brahms’ left hand arrangement. I had great hopes for it, because the underlying Partita is superlative.
Bach Partita #2’s Chaconne soars to spiritual heights and sinks to the edge of despair (over the death of Bach’s wife, some say).
But when compared with the edgy clarity of Hilary Hahn’s violin or the harmonic density of Busoni’s two-handed arrangement, Levit’s Chaconne felt as cold as the stone of a cathedral. Somewhere between Brahms and this pianist, the flame went out.
As per Busoni, Fantasia opens serioso, sostenuto e sempre sottovoce. In Levit’s hands, these directions were faithfully executed.
From my front row right seat, I had a great view of Levit’s sostenuto. I was able to see how he worked the pedals to create ethereal tones in higher registers. He used much partial pedal to thread the hazardous path between too little resonance and too much.
I could literally see the resulting harmonics hanging in the air. They looked like a church organ, with harp-like strings in place of pipes.
Mr. Levit’s performance of this work was the high point of his recital, and utterly mesmerizing. You can hear him play this for yourself at Igor Levit plays Busoni Fantasia nach J.S. Bach – live 2015.
This serene but unremarkable work left your reviewer unmoved. This was not through any fault of Mr. Levit. Schumann never has done much for me. Perhaps you, dear reader, will get more out of Igor Levit’s Variations in E-Flat Major on an Original Theme “Ghost Variations”, WoO 24 than I did.
The Solemn March opens with a descending bass motif that sounds like huge bells tolling over a stately procession. The bells continue throughout the work, giving it a gravitas that fitted the rest of the recital program. Although there are more dramatic performances, I personally appreciated Mr. Levit’s understated interpretation.
Liszt is the kind of composer you either love or you hate. My wife and I are at opposite ends of this spectrum, but I have to agree that this brash, showy work does not inspire me the way even the Parsifal arrangement did.
In my opinion Mr. Levit could profitably have dropped this work from his program, buying him time for a couple of encores that would have greatly endeared him to his neglected Carnegie audience.
Mr. Levit announced that he would play only one encore. Disappointing as this was, it is hard to imagine following a program of such gravity with any kind of casual crowd-pleaser.
Indeed, A Mensch was no crowd-pleaser. Your unfortunate reviewer neither liked nor understood this awkward, atonal work. For future performances, it would help if Mr. Levit would grace his audience with a brief musical introduction.
What was the point of the pianist rapping the piano with his fingers, or the closing moment when he slid his foot off the damper pedal so that it sprang up with a loud CLACK?
When Mr. Levit was ready to start Busoni’s Fantasia, a latecomer was being seated. Whatever he may have felt, Levit flashed a good-natured smirk at the audience. It was a reassuring moment, and one of many indications that although Igor Levit is a different kind of pianist, he is still human.
There were cases where Mr. Levit’s individuality was less impressive. At the end of Busoni’s Fantasia, and again at the end of Liszt/Wagner’s Solemn March to the Holy Grail, the audience waited politely for the pianist to sit up and indicate that he was finished. Instead, Levit started the next part of his recital. These were awkward moments, verging on rude.
There were other moments that I could cite to illustrate Mr. Levit’s uniqueness, but I will trade them all for the answer to one question. When you were sight-reading from your iPad, Mr. Levit, I did not see a page-turner pedal. So how did you turn the page?