After a scintillating performance of Beethoven's Piano Concerto No. 3 last night, Sahun Hong was named the PianoArts Competition 2012 first-place winner. The prize was presented by David Yoshiaki Ko, Hong's immediate predecessor and 2010 winner. Xiaohui Yang took home second place, and Emma Liu won the third-place prize.
In addition to his first-place prize, Hong also received the Junior Jury Prize, the Audience Communication Award and the Best Performance of a Violin or Cello Duo award. And if that wasn't enough accolades, he also took home a $1,000 gift certificate for Hal Leonard Music.
Ariela Bohrod also had a nice night, winning the Wisconsin Contestant Award as well as the Scholarship to the International Keyboard & Music Festival, at Mannes College of Music in New York City. This year, the judges eschewed presenting the Best Performance of a Prelude and Fugue by J.S. Bach, instead recognizing Garrick Olsen with the "Best Performance of a post-1940 work" award. Olsen, Bohrod, Phillip Kwoka, Yesse Kim, Yoan Ganev, Josephine Yang, Yinuo Qian, Brian Lin and Christian Gamboa all received commemorative semifinalists' awards.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
The Finalists Perform: Yang, Liu, Hong
On Wednesday, June 13th, the three PianoArts finalists each played a full concerto with the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra at the Sharon Lynne Wilson Center for the Arts. Xiaohui Yang performed Mozart's Concerto No. 23, Emma Liu performed Schumann's Concerto in A Minor, and Sahun Hong closed out the evening with Beethoven's Concerto No. 3 in C Minor.
Yang, who was the first contestant to play, showed off a really nice, pretty, clear sound. She took a quiet, nuanced approach to Mozart, almost too quiet at times. For a great solo that got louder as she went along, however, listeners had to wait no longer than the end of the first movement. Her second movement began with a wonderfully sorrowful, subdued piano solo; her third started much more energetically as she set the table for the orchestra to come in. Her play was elegant in every respect; she produced a good sound and put some teeth into it late in the third movement, with her hands moving furiously. Yang put all her energy into a long, sprightly passage near the end that had the audience applauding almost before she finished.
Emma Liu was next, and she opened with a bang. Liu seemed to work exceptionally well with the violin section, allowing the violins to borrow her theme, complementing them, then breaking into a theme of her own. She would take their melodic tidbits, make them her own and pass them back to the other section. Kim was decisive on the long passages going up the keyboard, backed by an exultant orchestra. As the piece progressed, both Kim and the orchestra seemed to get more aggressive, each trying to get their point across (echoing Liu's story about Schumann's argument with his wife). Beautiful, melodious slow passages built and broke down the tension with the orchestra, finally reconstructing the melody as the first movement ended. Liu's second movement was more restrained and delicate, but when the time came, she went for broke. She worked well in the second movement and into the third on the grand choruses with the orchestra, keeping the piece loud but still a pleasure to listen to.
Sahun Hong closed out the program with an absolutely stunning Beethoven. You could just tell from his playing, he was absolutely in charge of the piece from beginning 'til end. Hong filled the stage as much as the orchestra did; he didn't appear intimidated or held back at all by the setting or the orchestra at his back. When he led into the big, blaring sound of the orchestra with those fast, hard passages, it sounded comfortable and natural. The many different characters and emotions expressed in the first movement must've been difficult to perform, but Hong was unruffled; he took the audience from a pleasant walk in the country to the eye of a thunderstorm and back again. Movement II was stately and sad; a few solitary piano notes scattered in the middle of a vast silence, then a chastened orchestra slowly starts up again, this time full of hope. In the third, Hong was given a vast blitzkrieg of notes to deal with, but I couldn't hear one out of place. He was almost dainty on the keys during the slow bits, before jumping up and bursting into song later on.
Yang, who was the first contestant to play, showed off a really nice, pretty, clear sound. She took a quiet, nuanced approach to Mozart, almost too quiet at times. For a great solo that got louder as she went along, however, listeners had to wait no longer than the end of the first movement. Her second movement began with a wonderfully sorrowful, subdued piano solo; her third started much more energetically as she set the table for the orchestra to come in. Her play was elegant in every respect; she produced a good sound and put some teeth into it late in the third movement, with her hands moving furiously. Yang put all her energy into a long, sprightly passage near the end that had the audience applauding almost before she finished.
Emma Liu was next, and she opened with a bang. Liu seemed to work exceptionally well with the violin section, allowing the violins to borrow her theme, complementing them, then breaking into a theme of her own. She would take their melodic tidbits, make them her own and pass them back to the other section. Kim was decisive on the long passages going up the keyboard, backed by an exultant orchestra. As the piece progressed, both Kim and the orchestra seemed to get more aggressive, each trying to get their point across (echoing Liu's story about Schumann's argument with his wife). Beautiful, melodious slow passages built and broke down the tension with the orchestra, finally reconstructing the melody as the first movement ended. Liu's second movement was more restrained and delicate, but when the time came, she went for broke. She worked well in the second movement and into the third on the grand choruses with the orchestra, keeping the piece loud but still a pleasure to listen to.
Sahun Hong closed out the program with an absolutely stunning Beethoven. You could just tell from his playing, he was absolutely in charge of the piece from beginning 'til end. Hong filled the stage as much as the orchestra did; he didn't appear intimidated or held back at all by the setting or the orchestra at his back. When he led into the big, blaring sound of the orchestra with those fast, hard passages, it sounded comfortable and natural. The many different characters and emotions expressed in the first movement must've been difficult to perform, but Hong was unruffled; he took the audience from a pleasant walk in the country to the eye of a thunderstorm and back again. Movement II was stately and sad; a few solitary piano notes scattered in the middle of a vast silence, then a chastened orchestra slowly starts up again, this time full of hope. In the third, Hong was given a vast blitzkrieg of notes to deal with, but I couldn't hear one out of place. He was almost dainty on the keys during the slow bits, before jumping up and bursting into song later on.
Piano Promenades: The Nine Semifinalists
Before the PianoArts 2012 competition final took place on Wednesday night, the nine semifinalists were invited to play a piece of their own choosing for a small crowd in the Wilson Center auditorium. The event was hosted by 2010 PianoArts first-prize winner David Yoshiaki Ko, who introduced and told anecdotes about each semifinalist in turn.
Each pianist, with one exception, played a selection from their contest program. Josephine Yang played a selection from Maurice Ravel's Miroirs: Alborada del Graciosio, the "Comedian's Aubade". Ariela Bohrod reprised her performance of Chopin's Nocturne No. 17. Phillip Kwoka followed with "Transmissions" by David Macintyre. Brian Lin played Bach's Prelude and Fugue No. 15 from "The Well-Tempered Clavier". Yinuo Qian played one of her Chopin Mazurkas (No. 2, for those scoring at home) and Garrick Olsen performed Marc-André Hamelin's "Erlkönig", the No. 8 etude from Hamelin's 12 Etudes in All the Minor Keys. (Ko joked that he did a double take upon seeing Olsen's name in the program; apparently Olsen's doppelgänger is moderately well known).
Christian Gamboa then became the only semifinalist to play something outside his program; Gamboa eschewed his solo pieces in favor of a selection from Rachmaninoff's Études-Tableaux. Yesse Kim followed with part of Beethoven's Sonata No. 24, and Yoan Ganev closed out the event with Chopin's Nocturne No. 3.
And in the spirit of Rachmaninoff, some more musical comedy:
Each pianist, with one exception, played a selection from their contest program. Josephine Yang played a selection from Maurice Ravel's Miroirs: Alborada del Graciosio, the "Comedian's Aubade". Ariela Bohrod reprised her performance of Chopin's Nocturne No. 17. Phillip Kwoka followed with "Transmissions" by David Macintyre. Brian Lin played Bach's Prelude and Fugue No. 15 from "The Well-Tempered Clavier". Yinuo Qian played one of her Chopin Mazurkas (No. 2, for those scoring at home) and Garrick Olsen performed Marc-André Hamelin's "Erlkönig", the No. 8 etude from Hamelin's 12 Etudes in All the Minor Keys. (Ko joked that he did a double take upon seeing Olsen's name in the program; apparently Olsen's doppelgänger is moderately well known).
Christian Gamboa then became the only semifinalist to play something outside his program; Gamboa eschewed his solo pieces in favor of a selection from Rachmaninoff's Études-Tableaux. Yesse Kim followed with part of Beethoven's Sonata No. 24, and Yoan Ganev closed out the event with Chopin's Nocturne No. 3.
And in the spirit of Rachmaninoff, some more musical comedy:
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Turnabout Is Fair Play: Listening to the Judges
The three distinguished PianoArts judges--Pavlina Dokovska, James Giles and Julian Martin--had been evaluating PianoArts' twelve semifinalists since Saturday. In twelve solo recitals and twelve duo recitals, they had heard a total of 86 pieces of music. Now it was their turn to play in front of an assembled crowd. Giles and Dokovska wowed the crowd at the Sharon Lynne Wilson Center for the Arts on Tuesday night, showcasing their musical knowledge and talent for semifinalists, board members and everyone else who came.
Giles opened the program by talking about the "sense of childhood wonder" that he saw in Robert Schumann's Clavierstücke für die Jugend, or "Album for the Young", from which he played three selections. For me, the pieces were less wondering than they were introspective. Giles found a way to speak to the audience through the pauses in the pieces as well as through the notes, creating a wistful, reflective impression. This was only reinforced by the setup on stage: one artist, one piano, an island of black surrounded by empty space... and beyond that, an expanse of bright lighting and huge wooden panels. In that setting, the Schumann sounded kind of lonely.
Next on the program was Franz Liszt's Ballade in B Minor, No. 2. This was another ominous piece, with a slow, portentous roll often present in the left hand that crept up and down the lower third of the keyboard. The right hand, meanwhile, would plink and plunk out a somber sort of tune over the top of that slow roll; the cumulative effect was dark and somewhat menacing. Giles spoke about how Lizst's original inspiration for the piece was the love story of Hero and Leander from Greek myth (spoiler warning: both of 'em died tragically), and by the end of it, you could almost see the light going out in the tower where Hero lived (and Leander drowning in the Hellespont shortly thereafter).
Giles closed out his half of the concert with three of the Seven Virtuoso Etudes on Gershwin Songs by Earl Wild, an all-time great pianist whom Giles said he'd actually gotten to know years ago. "He was funny, outrageous, had an X-rated tongue," Giles said. He went on to tell the crowd how you could sort of hear the original Gershwin themes underneath all the embellishments, but Wild had "embroidered [them] in the most fanciful and gleaming way possible". I had to agree. There are so many jukes and jives and flourishes, so many extra notes on top of the main theme, it was both hilarious and awesome in its complexity.
After a short intermission, Dokovska took the stage (in a beautiful red dress, no less) and proceeded to wax rhapsodic about Claude Debussy, the only artist on her program. "He was a poet of the piano," Dokovska said. She quoted the great composer as remarking that "the era of airplanes requires new music. As there are no precedents, I must create anew". Writing amidst the Impressionistic period, Debussy was among a great number of artists who rebelled against the conventions of romanticism and realism alike. "They were looking not for the bright light, but for the mist and the fog," Dokovska explained. As Debussy said: "Music is a dream from which the veil has been lifted."
Dokovska played five selections from Debussy's Preludes ("Footsteps in the snow", "What the west wind has seen", "Veils", one from Images ("Reflections in the water") and L'isle joyeuse, "the island of joy". Taken as a whole, the selections started out in a sad, contemplative mood and became more joyous as Dokovska moved from piece to piece, a conscious choice on her part. The first few Preludes told the story of Debussy's separation from one of his loved ones (among other things), and it was a heartrending story. You could feel the snowflakes coming down, and see Debussy watching the footprints in the snow as they moved away from him.
Instead of interspersing her talk between the pieces, Dokovska spoke at length at the beginning of her half and then simply played everything else almost straight through. She told the audience so much about Debussy, and in such descriptive language, it was difficult not to hear his voice in the pieces, anguished and elated by turns. While the pieces did eventually turn from sadness to a kind of triumph, for me there was always something a little unsettling hiding in the notes, a kernel of doubt and uncertainty in Debussy's mind that kept the triumphs from being perfect. This wasn't unrestrained happiness or great romantic feeling, but a more complex glimpse into the composer's soul. "I will try to lift a little bit, as much as I can, the veil of Debussy's dream," said Dokovska, and for a spellbinding hour she did.
Giles opened the program by talking about the "sense of childhood wonder" that he saw in Robert Schumann's Clavierstücke für die Jugend, or "Album for the Young", from which he played three selections. For me, the pieces were less wondering than they were introspective. Giles found a way to speak to the audience through the pauses in the pieces as well as through the notes, creating a wistful, reflective impression. This was only reinforced by the setup on stage: one artist, one piano, an island of black surrounded by empty space... and beyond that, an expanse of bright lighting and huge wooden panels. In that setting, the Schumann sounded kind of lonely.
Next on the program was Franz Liszt's Ballade in B Minor, No. 2. This was another ominous piece, with a slow, portentous roll often present in the left hand that crept up and down the lower third of the keyboard. The right hand, meanwhile, would plink and plunk out a somber sort of tune over the top of that slow roll; the cumulative effect was dark and somewhat menacing. Giles spoke about how Lizst's original inspiration for the piece was the love story of Hero and Leander from Greek myth (spoiler warning: both of 'em died tragically), and by the end of it, you could almost see the light going out in the tower where Hero lived (and Leander drowning in the Hellespont shortly thereafter).
Giles closed out his half of the concert with three of the Seven Virtuoso Etudes on Gershwin Songs by Earl Wild, an all-time great pianist whom Giles said he'd actually gotten to know years ago. "He was funny, outrageous, had an X-rated tongue," Giles said. He went on to tell the crowd how you could sort of hear the original Gershwin themes underneath all the embellishments, but Wild had "embroidered [them] in the most fanciful and gleaming way possible". I had to agree. There are so many jukes and jives and flourishes, so many extra notes on top of the main theme, it was both hilarious and awesome in its complexity.
After a short intermission, Dokovska took the stage (in a beautiful red dress, no less) and proceeded to wax rhapsodic about Claude Debussy, the only artist on her program. "He was a poet of the piano," Dokovska said. She quoted the great composer as remarking that "the era of airplanes requires new music. As there are no precedents, I must create anew". Writing amidst the Impressionistic period, Debussy was among a great number of artists who rebelled against the conventions of romanticism and realism alike. "They were looking not for the bright light, but for the mist and the fog," Dokovska explained. As Debussy said: "Music is a dream from which the veil has been lifted."
Dokovska played five selections from Debussy's Preludes ("Footsteps in the snow", "What the west wind has seen", "Veils", one from Images ("Reflections in the water") and L'isle joyeuse, "the island of joy". Taken as a whole, the selections started out in a sad, contemplative mood and became more joyous as Dokovska moved from piece to piece, a conscious choice on her part. The first few Preludes told the story of Debussy's separation from one of his loved ones (among other things), and it was a heartrending story. You could feel the snowflakes coming down, and see Debussy watching the footprints in the snow as they moved away from him.
Instead of interspersing her talk between the pieces, Dokovska spoke at length at the beginning of her half and then simply played everything else almost straight through. She told the audience so much about Debussy, and in such descriptive language, it was difficult not to hear his voice in the pieces, anguished and elated by turns. While the pieces did eventually turn from sadness to a kind of triumph, for me there was always something a little unsettling hiding in the notes, a kernel of doubt and uncertainty in Debussy's mind that kept the triumphs from being perfect. This wasn't unrestrained happiness or great romantic feeling, but a more complex glimpse into the composer's soul. "I will try to lift a little bit, as much as I can, the veil of Debussy's dream," said Dokovska, and for a spellbinding hour she did.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Advice From Musical Experts, Part II
In the course of a panel discussion at the Sharon Lynne Wilson Center on Tuesday, 6/12, four Milwaukee-area music professionals dispensed a great deal of advice on the nuances of being a professional soloist. PianoArts music director Andrews Sill, honorary board member Lee Dougherty, former Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra vice president Laurence Tucker and executive director of the Wilson Center Jon Winkle all spoke in the panel discussion, entitled "Careers in Music" and "Working with Managers and Presenters". This is Part II of a two-part post.
As advice to keep tucked away for when the finalists are all famous, Dougherty advised them to "be sure to honor that contract", even if a better offer comes along. She also emphasized the importance of "expand[ing] your repertoire to the degree that people can call you and ask what you'll be able to play next year". But while doing this, added Tucker, "have a few things you can play in your sleep". He also cautioned against the contestants' performing too many concertos in too short a time period. "Don't offer more than 4-5 concertos in a season," Tucker said; with too many concertos, like 12 or 13, it's guaranteed that none of them will be great ones.
Artistic Director Stefanie Jacob, who was sitting in the audience, advised the crowd to "think about what pieces you can play with real conviction, that speak to you. When you do, it speaks more to the audience". And if a piece doesn't speak to you, she added laughingly, learn how to make it speak! It makes for a better performance all around. On the subject of learning, Sill then told the crowd about his struggle to speak in front of groups, which he had overcome through discipline and practice. "If something doesn't come naturally to you, practice it," Sill added. "If it doesn't come naturally to you, it's okay, but you need to work at it... It's OK if it's uncomfortable, but it's not OK to say ehh, I'm not going to do that."
Returning to the subject of little things, Dougherty advised that at future competitions, the semifinalists should plan their repertoire according to the time they're given. Budget time for walking onstage, for the in-concert talks and for applause, she said. It all has some importance, as Winkle reminded the crowd, there's "a lot of money on the table" that goes beyond just the soloist. You have a responsibility to the patrons of the establishment you'll be at. "You are the talent, and when you express yourself, you're like no other individual," Dougherty said. "You're lifting the souls of hundreds of people. Not everyone gets to do that."
During the question-and-answer period, Sill offered a final piece of advice. When speaking about a piece, Sill said, "I don't want to hear technical things or emotional things. I want to know, what connects you to this music? What grabs you? It's not an easy answer, but if you can articulate that personal connection, well, you will leave the audience hooked."
As advice to keep tucked away for when the finalists are all famous, Dougherty advised them to "be sure to honor that contract", even if a better offer comes along. She also emphasized the importance of "expand[ing] your repertoire to the degree that people can call you and ask what you'll be able to play next year". But while doing this, added Tucker, "have a few things you can play in your sleep". He also cautioned against the contestants' performing too many concertos in too short a time period. "Don't offer more than 4-5 concertos in a season," Tucker said; with too many concertos, like 12 or 13, it's guaranteed that none of them will be great ones.
Artistic Director Stefanie Jacob, who was sitting in the audience, advised the crowd to "think about what pieces you can play with real conviction, that speak to you. When you do, it speaks more to the audience". And if a piece doesn't speak to you, she added laughingly, learn how to make it speak! It makes for a better performance all around. On the subject of learning, Sill then told the crowd about his struggle to speak in front of groups, which he had overcome through discipline and practice. "If something doesn't come naturally to you, practice it," Sill added. "If it doesn't come naturally to you, it's okay, but you need to work at it... It's OK if it's uncomfortable, but it's not OK to say ehh, I'm not going to do that."
Returning to the subject of little things, Dougherty advised that at future competitions, the semifinalists should plan their repertoire according to the time they're given. Budget time for walking onstage, for the in-concert talks and for applause, she said. It all has some importance, as Winkle reminded the crowd, there's "a lot of money on the table" that goes beyond just the soloist. You have a responsibility to the patrons of the establishment you'll be at. "You are the talent, and when you express yourself, you're like no other individual," Dougherty said. "You're lifting the souls of hundreds of people. Not everyone gets to do that."
During the question-and-answer period, Sill offered a final piece of advice. When speaking about a piece, Sill said, "I don't want to hear technical things or emotional things. I want to know, what connects you to this music? What grabs you? It's not an easy answer, but if you can articulate that personal connection, well, you will leave the audience hooked."
Advice From Musical Experts, Part I
On the last day before Piano Arts 2012's final recital of the year, the twelve semifinalists gathered at the Sharon Lynne Wilson Center for the Arts in Brookfield, WI. The event? "Careers in Music" and "Working With Manager and Presenters", a panel discussion with four Milwaukee-area music professionals. These were Jonathan Winkle, the executive director of the Wilson Center; Laurence Tucker, former vice president and chief program officer at the Milwaukee Symphony Orchesta; Lee Dougherty, member of the PianoArts Founders' Council, and Andrews Sill, PianoArts music director and assistant music director at the New York Ballet. These professional music administrators--and artists in their own right--gave the budding talents of the 2012 PianoArts Competition a boatload of good advice on how to succeed as a soloist in the world of commercial music.
The first topic was how to get your name out there in a crowded music marketplace. "The relationship piece is more important than you realize," said Winkle. Music directors field hundreds of requests from would-be soloists and musical acts, everything from string quartets to bluegrass bands. To "get through the clutter", he said, "keep behaving well. Keep making friends." But although networking is important for a young soloist, equally important is finding your artistic voice."I [look] for the best artist", said Tucker. He told the semifinalists to "get out the art that's inside of you. Know yourself, and understand where music fits into your other art. Study music away from your instrument. You are at such a vital time in your life right now... Make mistakes. Play the wrong piece, or play a piece your teacher doesn't want you to. To your own self be true."
Dougherty reminded the artists that although the life of a soloist may seem carefree, there are a lot of responsibilities that accompany it (no pun intended). "You have responsibilities to yourself, to your town, but to your presenter too," she said. She advised the semifinalists to take care of the little things; to arrive on time, to be in touch with your presenter before the performance, to send them materials in advance. It's those details, and being a nice, personable individual, that matter to presenters. "The [artists] I really want back are appreciative," Dougherty said. "Be a human being with your audience. Send thank-you notes. Spent time makes a difference while you're performing. And if you do a really excellent job, [as a presenter] I'll call up my friends and say hey, you need to check this guy out."
Laurence Tucker mentioned the importance of having a website and having good promotional materials. It's worth it, he said, to have everything you send out to a potential gig look crisp, professional and present you the way you want to be presented. Nowadays, that even includes YouTube videos, which music directors will often seek out and look up; artists should make sure that they're good quality, from an audio/visual perspective as well as simply playing well. Smiling on stage helps; engage the audience. "These are little things, but they're really not," Tucker said. Dougherty added that public speaking is a part of the show as well; make sure your remarks are substantive, project your voice as though you were speaking to people in the back row, speak with a sense of authority. "It's the whole package," Tucker concluded.
The first topic was how to get your name out there in a crowded music marketplace. "The relationship piece is more important than you realize," said Winkle. Music directors field hundreds of requests from would-be soloists and musical acts, everything from string quartets to bluegrass bands. To "get through the clutter", he said, "keep behaving well. Keep making friends." But although networking is important for a young soloist, equally important is finding your artistic voice."I [look] for the best artist", said Tucker. He told the semifinalists to "get out the art that's inside of you. Know yourself, and understand where music fits into your other art. Study music away from your instrument. You are at such a vital time in your life right now... Make mistakes. Play the wrong piece, or play a piece your teacher doesn't want you to. To your own self be true."
Dougherty reminded the artists that although the life of a soloist may seem carefree, there are a lot of responsibilities that accompany it (no pun intended). "You have responsibilities to yourself, to your town, but to your presenter too," she said. She advised the semifinalists to take care of the little things; to arrive on time, to be in touch with your presenter before the performance, to send them materials in advance. It's those details, and being a nice, personable individual, that matter to presenters. "The [artists] I really want back are appreciative," Dougherty said. "Be a human being with your audience. Send thank-you notes. Spent time makes a difference while you're performing. And if you do a really excellent job, [as a presenter] I'll call up my friends and say hey, you need to check this guy out."
Laurence Tucker mentioned the importance of having a website and having good promotional materials. It's worth it, he said, to have everything you send out to a potential gig look crisp, professional and present you the way you want to be presented. Nowadays, that even includes YouTube videos, which music directors will often seek out and look up; artists should make sure that they're good quality, from an audio/visual perspective as well as simply playing well. Smiling on stage helps; engage the audience. "These are little things, but they're really not," Tucker said. Dougherty added that public speaking is a part of the show as well; make sure your remarks are substantive, project your voice as though you were speaking to people in the back row, speak with a sense of authority. "It's the whole package," Tucker concluded.
PianoArts Finalists
The three finalists for the PianoArts 2012 Competition are (in no particular order): Sahun Hong, Emma Liu and Xiaohui Yang. All three will perform with the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra on June 13th, 2012, at the Sharon Lynne Wilson Center in Brookfield, WI.
Hong will perform Ludwig van Beethoven's Concerto No. 3 in C Minor, while Liu will perform Robert Schumann's Concerto in A Minor. Finally, Yang will be performing Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's Concerto No. 23 in A Minor.
The judges for this competition are Julian Martin, James Giles and Pavlina Dokovskya. The MSO will be conducted by Andrews Sill. After the contestants have all played, the following prizes and awards will be presented: the Audience Communication Award, the Wisconsin Contestant Award, the Best Performance of a Violin or Cello Duo, the Best Performance of a Prelude and Fugue by J.S. Bach, the Scholarship to the International Keyboard Institute & Music Festival at Mannes College, the Junior Jury Prize, and the 1st, 2nd and 3rd Place prizes for the PianoArts 2012 Competition. We hope to see you there!
Hong will perform Ludwig van Beethoven's Concerto No. 3 in C Minor, while Liu will perform Robert Schumann's Concerto in A Minor. Finally, Yang will be performing Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's Concerto No. 23 in A Minor.
The judges for this competition are Julian Martin, James Giles and Pavlina Dokovskya. The MSO will be conducted by Andrews Sill. After the contestants have all played, the following prizes and awards will be presented: the Audience Communication Award, the Wisconsin Contestant Award, the Best Performance of a Violin or Cello Duo, the Best Performance of a Prelude and Fugue by J.S. Bach, the Scholarship to the International Keyboard Institute & Music Festival at Mannes College, the Junior Jury Prize, and the 1st, 2nd and 3rd Place prizes for the PianoArts 2012 Competition. We hope to see you there!
Ariela Bohrod: Duo Recital
Beginning her program with the first movement of Beethoven's Sonata No. 16 in G Major, Ariela Bohrod lived up to every bit of the movement's 'Allegro vivace' label. She combined a sprightly, pleasant sound with good command. She managed to be very sure of herself and in control of the piece without being obnoxious... and just when you thought the piece was over, she launched herself back in with great big scales. I really enjoyed listening to her play that piece.
After the Beethoven came Brahms's Sonata for Violin and Piano No. 2, which Bohrod played with violinist Jennifer Startt. This was another very elegant, walk-in-the-country sort of a piece, where she was constantly responding to the violins call. There were lots of outspoken chords over the top of which Startt played. She seemed to play well with Startt without being subdued or overly deferent.
Closing out the duo-recital portion of the competition, as well as Bohrod's final piece of the evening, was Chopin's Concerto No. 2 in F minor. Pianist Stefanie Jacob stood in for the orchestra. In Bohrod's pre-piece talk, she spoke about how the concerto was criticized after it was published for being overly dominated by the piano; the orchestra, in this view, just supports the piano's part. The second movement (which went unplayed; Bohrod had to limit herself to the first movement), according to Bohrod, was Chopin's ode to an opera singer that he fell in love with but never had the guts to go and talk to. The critics were right on at least one point: the concerto was extremely piano-dominated. The orchestra doesn't have much to play around with, but Bohrod's piano was full of splendid melodies. She dominated the piece, but didn't overload the room: Bohrod served more as a guide through the piece than a trailblazer, if that makes any sense. She doesn't linger on the keys, but dances right over them.
Closing out the duo-recital portion of the competition, as well as Bohrod's final piece of the evening, was Chopin's Concerto No. 2 in F minor. Pianist Stefanie Jacob stood in for the orchestra. In Bohrod's pre-piece talk, she spoke about how the concerto was criticized after it was published for being overly dominated by the piano; the orchestra, in this view, just supports the piano's part. The second movement (which went unplayed; Bohrod had to limit herself to the first movement), according to Bohrod, was Chopin's ode to an opera singer that he fell in love with but never had the guts to go and talk to. The critics were right on at least one point: the concerto was extremely piano-dominated. The orchestra doesn't have much to play around with, but Bohrod's piano was full of splendid melodies. She dominated the piece, but didn't overload the room: Bohrod served more as a guide through the piece than a trailblazer, if that makes any sense. She doesn't linger on the keys, but dances right over them.
Sahun Hong: Duo Recital (Finalist)
Starting his program with Prokofiev's Toccata in D Minor, Sahun Hong played with a very sharp, sudden style. He handled the frequent crossovers in the piece well, remaining impassive and impeccable in even the most difficult places. Next was Schumann's Drei Fantasiestücke with cellist Scott Tisdel, where Hong was able to showcase his more melodious side. He did a good job setting up a background for the cello to emerge, and then coming out on top himself when his theme reemerges. In the second fantasie, whose title translates to "Lively, light", he showed a little more spice in the call-and-answer between himself and Tisdel. Hong played the third, "Fast and with fire" fantasie more restrained than some of his fellow semifinalists; yes, it was with fire, but more of a campfire than a San Diego-style wildfire. Except for right at the beginning, Hong and Tisdel eschewed going crazy with the theme for taking their time and care with Schumann, and it paid off.
Before his Beethoven Concerto No. 3 in C minor, which closed out the program, Hong gave a lengthy and entertaining talk about the nuances of the piece. He talked about how the piece uses similar themes to a popular Mozart concerto of the time, but treated them completely differently. Apparently the piece is all about the pushing and pulling between the piano and the orchestra, with the piano constantly trying to outdo, defy or otherwise show up the orchestra. Hong was really good at--and funny with--his explanations of Beethoven's nuances and messing with conventions, leaping between keys and so forth. "Here's a C minor scale!", he'd yell, playing it. "Here's another one!" Played that too. Hong was a lot of fun to listen to when he was talking, but even more so when he was playing. He knew how to play off the orchestra and capture the nuances of the piece. He was majestic and grand when it was called for, and sort of light and cheerful when it wasn't. And at times, he was just mesmerizing.
Sahun Hong is a PianoArts finalist, and will perform the entirety of the Beethoven concerto on Wednesday, June 13th with the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra. This will take place at the Sharon Lynne Wilson Center for the Arts in Brookfield.
Sahun Hong is a PianoArts finalist, and will perform the entirety of the Beethoven concerto on Wednesday, June 13th with the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra. This will take place at the Sharon Lynne Wilson Center for the Arts in Brookfield.
Pin Hsu (Emma) Liu: Duo Recital (Finalist)
For some reason, whenever I listen to Pin Hsu (Emma) Liu, all my mind comes up with is nature and natural metaphors. When she played the Allegro from Haydn's Sonata No. 59, my notes go something like this: "A very stroll-in-the-countryside feeling. Light, breezy, elegant." When she moved on to Schumann's Drei Fantasiestücke, the first fantasie minded me of a "melodious undercurrent that now and then overflows its banks". Floweriness aside, she has a very bright, clear, graceful sound that worked well with Scott Tisdel's cello playing. The second and third fantasies showcased Liu's great flow; every phrase just sort of naturally blends into the next. It's just a really nice sound. She had a really aggressive take on the third movement, and managed to do all of these complicated passages without ever losing her equanimity, either on her face or on the keyboard.
Playing with Wilanna Kalkhof, Liu then launched into the first movement of the well-traveled Schumann's Concerto in A Minor, and the audience heard the love story of Robert and Clara one more time. Liu demonstrated the piece's opening melody and explained some of the key changes that modify it throughout the piece. The second movement, she told the crowd, starts with dialogue between the strings and piano and concludes with a rising and falling melody. When she began the piece, Liu sounded authoritative and like she was telling a story at the same time, a welcome combination. She just has such a classic concert pianist sound, it's hard to really even describe. It sounds the way you expect a really good pianist to sound. She carries off the complex bits of the Schumann without batting an eye, and merged well with the fauxchestra as played by Kalkhof.
Emma Liu is a PianoArts finalist, and will play the entirety of the Schumann concerto with the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra on Wednesday the 13th, at the Sharon Lynne Wilson Center for the Arts in Brookfield.
Emma Liu is a PianoArts finalist, and will play the entirety of the Schumann concerto with the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra on Wednesday the 13th, at the Sharon Lynne Wilson Center for the Arts in Brookfield.
Yoan Ganev: Duo Recital
For the second time in this competition, Mily Balakirev's Islamey Fantasie Orientale made an appearance on the Sub Rosa stage. This time it was played by Yoan Ganev, who interpreted the piece using a hard, forceful sound. Balakirev's work looks extremely demanding from the audience, incorporating furious chords with all sorts of left-over-right-hand crossovers, but Ganev pulled it off without problems. His hands moved so fast, and the piece went so quickly, it reminded me of watching a strobe light. I don't know that I've ever seen anyone be that dextrous. Ganev made good use of the piano's pedals as well, adding an extra dimension to his sound.
After the Balakirev, Ganev brought violinist Tim Klabunde on stage to perform Beethoven's Sonata for Violin and Piano in C Minor, another piece that was familiar by this time. Ganev took the lead in the piece with a loud, commanding sound that sounded a bit sharper than previous versions of the piece. Later on, he became much softer and more subdued, but still retained a commanding edge.
Before Ganev's final piece, Chopin's Concerto No. 2, he spoke about the "commonly known" origin of the piece, and how it "projects to the audience's feelings of anger and jealousy". Playing with Jeannie Yu, Ganev showed off a forceful opening to the piece that was heavy on the pedal. He was fast and skillful with the long, complex passages of the piece, including a few really breathtaking ones near the end.
Before Ganev's final piece, Chopin's Concerto No. 2, he spoke about the "commonly known" origin of the piece, and how it "projects to the audience's feelings of anger and jealousy". Playing with Jeannie Yu, Ganev showed off a forceful opening to the piece that was heavy on the pedal. He was fast and skillful with the long, complex passages of the piece, including a few really breathtaking ones near the end.
Garrick Olsen: Duo Recital
In keeping with the food metaphors that have pervaded the descriptions of PianoArts contestants, Garrick Olsen's rendition of Chopin's Etude No. 1 in C Major to begin his program was very appetizer-esque. Chopin just took one idea in the etude and played around with it in a dozen different ways, but the etude was over almost before it began. Violinist Tim Klabunde then stepped onto the stage, and he and Olsen launched into Beethoven's Sonata for Violin and Piano in C Minor.
I don't know how many hours Klabunde and Olsen spent rehearsing the Beethoven, but it must have been a rather considerable number. Their timing was darn near perfect. The piece required the piano semifinalist and the MSO violinist to play the same material in perfect unison, and throughout the piece I didn't hear any slip-ups in that area. Not bad for a collaboration that had (presumably) never met before this week. Olsen and Klabunde would take the audience right up to the edge of a climactic moment and back away, run up to the edge and back away, before finally exploding into the required thunderous sound. It felt to me like these guys really "got" each other on-stage, and I enjoyed watching them work together.
After the Beethoven, we arrived at Schumann's Concerto in A Minor and, once again, the love story of Robert and Clara Schumann. Since this was by now my third interpretation of the piece, I was curious to see how Olsen's take differed from those of the other semifinalists. Olsen told the story of how Robert and Clara met when Robert was studying with his teacher, and how they married in 1840 against his teacher's strong disapproval. Olsen had a neat little theory for one of the piece's main themes: the theme goes C B A A, and in German, B = H (news to me). The theme then goes C H A A, which is an anagram for a pet name that Robert used for Clara. The piece incorporates times of marital and couple-y bliss as well as heated arguments.
In keeping with this interpretation, Olsen interpreted most of the piece's opening as very light and gentle. He seemed very attuned to what his "orchestra" was doing at any given time, glancing over to check on Wilanna Kalkhof quite often. As the piece escalated into the argumentative sections, for some reason it reminded me of nothing so much as a pair of World War II-era Enigma encoding devices. Both of them were just hunched over their keyboards and pecking away at the themes. I quite enjoyed it.
Also, extra bonus: since Garrick's last name is Olsen and he is a pianist, I couldn't resist putting up one of the greatest orchestra comedy scenes ever filmed. This comes from the Danish comedy group Olsen Banden and is absolutely hilarious (don't worry, there are only a few spoken words in the clip, and you can probably guess the meanings). Enjoy.
After the Beethoven, we arrived at Schumann's Concerto in A Minor and, once again, the love story of Robert and Clara Schumann. Since this was by now my third interpretation of the piece, I was curious to see how Olsen's take differed from those of the other semifinalists. Olsen told the story of how Robert and Clara met when Robert was studying with his teacher, and how they married in 1840 against his teacher's strong disapproval. Olsen had a neat little theory for one of the piece's main themes: the theme goes C B A A, and in German, B = H (news to me). The theme then goes C H A A, which is an anagram for a pet name that Robert used for Clara. The piece incorporates times of marital and couple-y bliss as well as heated arguments.
In keeping with this interpretation, Olsen interpreted most of the piece's opening as very light and gentle. He seemed very attuned to what his "orchestra" was doing at any given time, glancing over to check on Wilanna Kalkhof quite often. As the piece escalated into the argumentative sections, for some reason it reminded me of nothing so much as a pair of World War II-era Enigma encoding devices. Both of them were just hunched over their keyboards and pecking away at the themes. I quite enjoyed it.
Also, extra bonus: since Garrick's last name is Olsen and he is a pianist, I couldn't resist putting up one of the greatest orchestra comedy scenes ever filmed. This comes from the Danish comedy group Olsen Banden and is absolutely hilarious (don't worry, there are only a few spoken words in the clip, and you can probably guess the meanings). Enjoy.
Christian Gamboa: Duo Recital
The Latin phrase "sub rosa" literally means "under the rose", but figuratively means to be secretive. In ancient Greece and Rome, but also in medieval England and present-day Scotland, what is said 'under the rose' was/is regarded as secret and untouchable. Now, as anyone who has spent five minutes in the Wisconsin Conservatory of Music knows, their primary concert hall is festooned with roses; they're all over the walls and the ceiling. Christian Gamboa's first piece literally took place sub rosa, and after listening to Franz Lizst's Harmonies poétiques et religieuses, I began to wonder what the piece was hiding. It's as foreboding as a piano can sound, a real brooding piece that spends most of its time south of middle C. Even when Gamboa made it up to the higher end of the keyboard, Lizst still sounded really brooding and nasty. Gamboa played off that trend, using the pedals to add a menacing kind of shimmer to the whole thing. He also managed the transition well to a calmer, less introverted, more optimistic sound.
Following the Lizst, cellist Scott Tisdel came on-stage again to play in Schumann's Drei Fantasiestücke, another piece that was played several times. The name of the first fantasie translates to "Delicately and with expression," which it certainly sounded in the hands of Gamboa and Tisdel. They got a really nice, babbling-brook sound early on in one of the more delicate bits, and did a good job passing musical phrases back and forth and building on them as they went. Both players sounded somewhat cavalier in the second fantasie. That section finished with a little flourish, whereupon Tisdel and Gamboa charged into the third fantasie--"Fast and with fire"--extremely quickly and furiously.
Gamboa's final piece of the day was Mendelssohn's Concerto No. 2 in A Minor, composed (as Gamboa told the crowd) for an English music festival. After getting a few laughs by making fun of Mendelssohn's romantic difficulties, of which there were many, Gamboa called Jeannie Yu up on stage as the orchestra piano and began the piece. He darted nimbly around the keyboard during some light, gossamer passages that showcased his ability to play delicately once more, then tossed a very active theme back and forth with Yu. Their final exchange drew not just applause from the crowd, but a chorus of hushed "Wow!" sounds.
Gamboa's final piece of the day was Mendelssohn's Concerto No. 2 in A Minor, composed (as Gamboa told the crowd) for an English music festival. After getting a few laughs by making fun of Mendelssohn's romantic difficulties, of which there were many, Gamboa called Jeannie Yu up on stage as the orchestra piano and began the piece. He darted nimbly around the keyboard during some light, gossamer passages that showcased his ability to play delicately once more, then tossed a very active theme back and forth with Yu. Their final exchange drew not just applause from the crowd, but a chorus of hushed "Wow!" sounds.
Phillip Kwoka: Duo Recital
I yammered about it in my post about Phillip Kwoka's solo recital, and after his duo recital, I see no reason to change my stance. Readers, if you're tired of reading about how Kwoka has a really sensitive, emotional sound that he uses to great effect, mosey along to the next post. If you're not, Kwoka's rendition of Franz Lizst's Venezia e Napoli had that sound in spades. Kwoka was very expressive on the little scales within the piece, with a lot of delicate, snowflake-sounding things that I wouldn't have expected from a tarentalla (which this was). It brought to mind a lot of winter imagery, but maybe that's just my wishful thinking as we enter the summer heat.
After a few set-up hiccups and with cellist Scott Tisdel finally settled in place, he and Kwoka launched into Brahms's Sonata for Cello and Piano in E minor. Kwoka sounded kind of subdued at times, playing more of a supporting role to Brahms's powerful cello parts. However, he also played off Tisdel well; the two of them had a very (stop me if you've heard this one before) expressive sound together.
After their bows, Jeannie Yu entered as the orchestral piano for Chopin's Concerto No. 2 in F minor. Apparently, back when the piece was first published, Berlioz thought that it was way too piano-focuses. He called the orchestra a "cold and useless accompaniment", according to Kwoka. However, Chopin was working with a contemporary style that emphasized the role of the piano; to illustrate this, Kwoka pointed to the beginning of the piece, where the orchestra starts out with a series of serene-sounding chords until the piano batters down the door with a dramatic entrance.
When the concerto began, Kwoka did sound more assertive than normal, as the piece seemed to demand. Even at his most assertive, though, he still had that artistic, cultured sound. The most complex passages in the piece were carried out with grace.
After their bows, Jeannie Yu entered as the orchestral piano for Chopin's Concerto No. 2 in F minor. Apparently, back when the piece was first published, Berlioz thought that it was way too piano-focuses. He called the orchestra a "cold and useless accompaniment", according to Kwoka. However, Chopin was working with a contemporary style that emphasized the role of the piano; to illustrate this, Kwoka pointed to the beginning of the piece, where the orchestra starts out with a series of serene-sounding chords until the piano batters down the door with a dramatic entrance.
When the concerto began, Kwoka did sound more assertive than normal, as the piece seemed to demand. Even at his most assertive, though, he still had that artistic, cultured sound. The most complex passages in the piece were carried out with grace.
Josephine Yang: Duo Recital
Josephine Yang described Alexander Scriabin's Sonata No. 2 in two interestingly different ways. According to her, Scriabin wanted to describe "the seashore and the deep, dark sea" with the piece. But Yang wanted something more emotional that she could connect with, like a story of love and love lost. When she sat down at the piano and started to play, I kept thinking of elements of both stories all wrapped together. At times, the Scriabin sounded very cold and calm, almost ocean-like. Then you would get a part that sounded perfectly like an acrimonious breakup. There were love bits aplenty in the piece, and Yang took them in a very courtly, stately sort of way (it reminded me of a Mr. Darcy-and-Elizabeth, Jane Austen type of love story). Overall, the piece sounded really reflective and introspective.
Following Scriabin was Beethoven's Sonata for Violin and Piano, performed again with Jennifer Startt. (Completely unconsciously, my first note on the piece was "Spirited start!" ...apologies to Jennifer.) Both Startt and Yang have some fire to their respective sounds, although Yang played a bit more restrained than Saturday just by nature of the duo piece. It sounded for some reason like they were building a house; the violin laid a block, the piano spread the mortar and laid another block, and they just kept building and building until the climax of the piece. (That's how houses work, right?)
For her final piece, Yang settled on Schumann's Concerto in A Minor, or as I've come to know it, the "Clara concerto". Yang told the audience all about the love story of Robert and Clara, and how the first movement (which she played) was about them pining for each other. Yang and orchestral pianist Willanna Kalkhof combined for a melodious, flowing, lyrical sound that broke out in short, excited bursts. When the two came to a loud, wake-the-sleepers part of the piece, Yang really charged into it and got Kalkhof to respond in kind. Somehow, though, they retained the melodious, flowing sound from earlier in the piece. When they passed the love theme back and forth--Yang had mentioned how much of the first movement is just one theme being constantly transformed--each person would add a new little twist and then throw the theme back to the first person. Both Yang and Kalkhof were grinning like mad afterwards as they stood to take to their bows.
For her final piece, Yang settled on Schumann's Concerto in A Minor, or as I've come to know it, the "Clara concerto". Yang told the audience all about the love story of Robert and Clara, and how the first movement (which she played) was about them pining for each other. Yang and orchestral pianist Willanna Kalkhof combined for a melodious, flowing, lyrical sound that broke out in short, excited bursts. When the two came to a loud, wake-the-sleepers part of the piece, Yang really charged into it and got Kalkhof to respond in kind. Somehow, though, they retained the melodious, flowing sound from earlier in the piece. When they passed the love theme back and forth--Yang had mentioned how much of the first movement is just one theme being constantly transformed--each person would add a new little twist and then throw the theme back to the first person. Both Yang and Kalkhof were grinning like mad afterwards as they stood to take to their bows.
Yesse Kim: Duo Recital
Throughout the past two full days of PianoArts competition, I saw contestants repeatedly liken their programs to full-course meals; one piece would be an appetizer, another an entree, and particularly cheeky contestants would speak of chocolate cake or ice cream when describing their final piece. In that gastronomical spirit, Yesse Kim's opening piece--one of Claude Debussy's piano etudes--was like a Mexican jumping bean. Debussy picked a simple theme and played with it a dozen different ways, never staying in one place for more than a few moments. Kim took this sprightly idea and ran with it; a hop, skip and a jump across the keyboard and the piece was over almost before it started.
Paired with violinist Jennifer Startt for Brahms's Sonata for Violin and Piano No. 2, Kim appeared quite comfortable taking the lead here. I didn't find her pushy, but she was definitely taking charge of the Brahms in a way I hadn't seen before. It seems like there's a temptation to submerge your sound in a duo, to be more subdued and focus less on flash and more on the basics of the piece. Kim appeared to carry out this idea; hers and Startt's was a very solid, meat-and-potatoes kind of collaboration.
Closing out Kim's program was a piece that would become very familiar to me over the next few hours, Robert Schumann's Concerto in A Minor, first movement: Allegro affettuoso. Kim talked abut how Schumann wrote that first movement as a fantasy, and demonstrated for the audience how the name Clara, Schumann's eventual wife, was inserted into the piece. I have to say, she threw in some really cute descriptions of Robert and Clara Schumann, as well as how those descriptions manifested in the piece (which apparently was all about Clara).
Combining with resident MSO pianist Wilanna Kalkhof, Kim put together a strong but touching rendition of the piece. She and Kalkhof seemed to communicate pretty well, needing only little nods and glances every now and again to stay in sync. This was true even during the parts of the piece where the two pianos get in an argument--it's not the easiest thing to orchestrate disorder convincingly! The piece almost seemed to work best in that argumentative format, as Kim played off of her "orchestra" quite well.
Closing out Kim's program was a piece that would become very familiar to me over the next few hours, Robert Schumann's Concerto in A Minor, first movement: Allegro affettuoso. Kim talked abut how Schumann wrote that first movement as a fantasy, and demonstrated for the audience how the name Clara, Schumann's eventual wife, was inserted into the piece. I have to say, she threw in some really cute descriptions of Robert and Clara Schumann, as well as how those descriptions manifested in the piece (which apparently was all about Clara).
Combining with resident MSO pianist Wilanna Kalkhof, Kim put together a strong but touching rendition of the piece. She and Kalkhof seemed to communicate pretty well, needing only little nods and glances every now and again to stay in sync. This was true even during the parts of the piece where the two pianos get in an argument--it's not the easiest thing to orchestrate disorder convincingly! The piece almost seemed to work best in that argumentative format, as Kim played off of her "orchestra" quite well.
Brian Lin: Duo Recital
It's time for a confession, ladies and gentlemen of the blogosphere: I have never played a lick of piano in my life. I'm a cellist by upbringing, and although I do have some general musical knowledge, I know as much about the subtleties of piano playing as a fish knows about firebreathing. So when I say that a piece sounds particularly difficult or particularly easy, you know you're getting a relative layman's opinion on the matter. So take me at my word when I say, dear readers, that Brian Lin's first piece on Monday--Mily Balavirev's Islamey Fantasie Orientale--looked and sounded really difficult to play. And yet he nailed it.
The first line in my notes from Brian's performance is, plus or minus a cuss word or two, "He makes this stunningly complicated blankety-blank look so easy". He was totally comfortable with playing an absolute ton of crossovers. The piece demanded that he play offbeat with one hand and on-beat with the other, a task guaranteed to make one's brain hemispheres beat against each other like cymbals, and yet he did it. The piece demanded fire and brimstone on minute and almost total quiet the next, and he did that, too. Lin let his passion for the piece and the instrument take control in the piece's big climaxes, resulting in what became a great mix of passion and control.
After the fireworks had subsided, Lin stood from his chair (to raucous applause) and said "I wish that was the last piece!" His remark was greeted by laughter, but followed up by the appearance on-stage of violinist Tim Klabunde, so I guess that wish wasn't in the cards. Klabunde and Lin proceeded to stage Beethoven's Sonata for Violin and Piano (first movement), and Lin appeared to need a minute to get his wind back at the beginning of the piece. Lin was able to maintain his deliberate touch on the keyboard, though. Another snippet from my notes: "For much of the first [part of the movement], he's setting the table for the violin. Later, they eat together."
Supper having concluded, Lin provided the dessert with the first movement of Mendelssohn's Piano Concerto No. 1, with fellow pianist Jeannie Yu standing in for the symphony (when introducing her, Lin wisecracked "Please welcome my orchestra"). It seemed like he knew the movement inside and out; after taking the beginning of the movement as fast as I've ever heard it, Lin could be seen actually mouthing the notes to not only his own part, but to the orchestra's part as well. Foot keeping time on the pedals, Lin appeared to be totally into the music, and he had the chops to play it. He kept a very good-humored sound throughout the piece, one that could be appreciated even by a humble layman like myself.
After the fireworks had subsided, Lin stood from his chair (to raucous applause) and said "I wish that was the last piece!" His remark was greeted by laughter, but followed up by the appearance on-stage of violinist Tim Klabunde, so I guess that wish wasn't in the cards. Klabunde and Lin proceeded to stage Beethoven's Sonata for Violin and Piano (first movement), and Lin appeared to need a minute to get his wind back at the beginning of the piece. Lin was able to maintain his deliberate touch on the keyboard, though. Another snippet from my notes: "For much of the first [part of the movement], he's setting the table for the violin. Later, they eat together."
Supper having concluded, Lin provided the dessert with the first movement of Mendelssohn's Piano Concerto No. 1, with fellow pianist Jeannie Yu standing in for the symphony (when introducing her, Lin wisecracked "Please welcome my orchestra"). It seemed like he knew the movement inside and out; after taking the beginning of the movement as fast as I've ever heard it, Lin could be seen actually mouthing the notes to not only his own part, but to the orchestra's part as well. Foot keeping time on the pedals, Lin appeared to be totally into the music, and he had the chops to play it. He kept a very good-humored sound throughout the piece, one that could be appreciated even by a humble layman like myself.
Xiaohui Yang: Duo Recital (Finalist)
As a semi-professional listener/blogger, I don't know quite what to make of Franz Lizst's Rhapsodie in C-Sharp Minor, No. 12. It started out foreboding, went through a lot of fast rolling chords, then a sort of return to tea-party, flower-garden outdoor dance music. It had pretty flourishes, it had strong, forceful crescendoes, it had energy and silence and I don't even know what else. It seemed from my vantage point that it would be really difficult to take all of those different moods and sew them together into a cohesive piece, at least from the artist's point of view. What I do know, however, is that Xiaohui Yang was able to pull it off. Yang was as into the music on Monday as she was on Saturday, leaning far over the keyboard during intense stretches and smiling through the flourishes that ended the piece.
Closely following Lizst was Brahms's Sonata for Violin and Piano No. 2, played with the assistance of distinguished violinist Illana Setapen. After all the variety of the Lizst, Brahms felt a lot quieter and more straightforward. The duo didn't often get very loud together, but on those occasions, they did a good job of complementing each other; it appeared as though they could play off each other quite well. Yang closed out the program with the first movement of Mozart's Concerto No. 23, which she called a "delicately shaded solo part, devoid of virtuoso brilliance". She went on to describe how the orchestra introduces the themes and the piano tends to follow, and how both of the themes are very introverted. The piece is "full of all different kinds of emotions," she said, and "we can see Mozart's smiles and tears in it".
After listening to Yang, I was inclined to agree with her on the piece's character. She took several of the piece's high passages very quietly, almost coyly. When the themes did end up combining, however, they seemed to mesh well. Bearing out her 'introverted' comment, parts of the piece almost felt like an inside joke at times, with lots of little hooks and sly, cunning phrases. Yang was very comfortable taking the lead from the "orchestra", and carried off both her long, fast passages and the slower, more contemplative ones with little trouble.
Xiaohui Yang was named a PianoArts Finalist, and will perform the entire Mozart concerto with the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra at the Sharon Lynne Wilson Center for the Arts in Brookfield on Wednesday, June 13th.
Closely following Lizst was Brahms's Sonata for Violin and Piano No. 2, played with the assistance of distinguished violinist Illana Setapen. After all the variety of the Lizst, Brahms felt a lot quieter and more straightforward. The duo didn't often get very loud together, but on those occasions, they did a good job of complementing each other; it appeared as though they could play off each other quite well. Yang closed out the program with the first movement of Mozart's Concerto No. 23, which she called a "delicately shaded solo part, devoid of virtuoso brilliance". She went on to describe how the orchestra introduces the themes and the piano tends to follow, and how both of the themes are very introverted. The piece is "full of all different kinds of emotions," she said, and "we can see Mozart's smiles and tears in it".
After listening to Yang, I was inclined to agree with her on the piece's character. She took several of the piece's high passages very quietly, almost coyly. When the themes did end up combining, however, they seemed to mesh well. Bearing out her 'introverted' comment, parts of the piece almost felt like an inside joke at times, with lots of little hooks and sly, cunning phrases. Yang was very comfortable taking the lead from the "orchestra", and carried off both her long, fast passages and the slower, more contemplative ones with little trouble.
Xiaohui Yang was named a PianoArts Finalist, and will perform the entire Mozart concerto with the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra at the Sharon Lynne Wilson Center for the Arts in Brookfield on Wednesday, June 13th.
Yinuo Qian: Duo Recital
Listening to Yinuo Qian speak about her music and then play three pieces for the PianoArts crowd was one of the more surreal, yet amazing, experiences I have ever had in music. During the little speaking-times that go in between pieces, while music stands and chairs are being moved on and off the stage, you hear a soft-spoken, rather laconic girl who sounds kind of shy. Then she adjusts the piano bench to the proper height, sits down and launches into Serge Prokofiev's Sonata No. 6, or Brahms's Sonata for Violin and Piano, and it's loud and bold and absolutely scorching. For those in the audience who missed their morning coffee, that wakes you right up... and even when I was applauding and saying "Wow!" at the end, in the back of my mind I was thinking Where on earth did that come from?
I guess I shouldn't have been caught off guard, though; others have pointed this out long before me. Qian's program notes speak of an orchestra member who wrote "Yinuo Qian is a pianist with fire and passion." And how. After the fast start, Qian played very softly and lyrically for much of the Prokofiev, showing some flair on the complex crossovers of the piece, of which there appeared to be hordes. The Prokofiev made me think of storm clouds and rain over a lake--just as I wrote that down, there was even some plinking near the top of the piano that greatly resembled rainfall--with lots of thunder-like crashing chords.
After the Prokofiev came the Brahms, where Qian was able to play with the distinguished violinist, and associate principal of the Milwaukee Symphony, Illana Setapen. I've heard some violin-piano duos that sound like conversations (or worse, arguments), but this was more like Qian and Setapen were telling a story together. Qian seemed to be playing in a more restrained fashion in the duo, and her sound became much more melodious with Setapen alongside. The two artists appeared to feed off each other well; in such aspects as tempo or volume changes, they sounded very in sync with each other. Setapen and Qian were comfortable together in both the louder and softer parts of the piece, which was a pleasure to hear.
Qian's last piece, Mozart's Concerto No. 27, was made possible by pianist Stefanie Jacob and her impersonation of a symphony orchestra by way of a piano arrangement. Partnered up with Jacob, Qian showed a sprightly side to her music, as they traded right-hand piano vignettes in one long, difficult-sounding passage. There was a lot of sparkle to her sound in that piece; part of it was of course Mozart's score, but she really brought it to life.
I guess I shouldn't have been caught off guard, though; others have pointed this out long before me. Qian's program notes speak of an orchestra member who wrote "Yinuo Qian is a pianist with fire and passion." And how. After the fast start, Qian played very softly and lyrically for much of the Prokofiev, showing some flair on the complex crossovers of the piece, of which there appeared to be hordes. The Prokofiev made me think of storm clouds and rain over a lake--just as I wrote that down, there was even some plinking near the top of the piano that greatly resembled rainfall--with lots of thunder-like crashing chords.
Qian's last piece, Mozart's Concerto No. 27, was made possible by pianist Stefanie Jacob and her impersonation of a symphony orchestra by way of a piano arrangement. Partnered up with Jacob, Qian showed a sprightly side to her music, as they traded right-hand piano vignettes in one long, difficult-sounding passage. There was a lot of sparkle to her sound in that piece; part of it was of course Mozart's score, but she really brought it to life.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Yoan Ganev: Unrelenting Force
From the first few notes of J.S. Bach's Prelude and Fugue No. 14 from "The Well-Tempered Clavier", it was apparent that Yoan Ganev values a forceful style. It's a really nice, melodious sound, he has a good flow in his music and he seemed very confident talking to the crowd (which had almost filled the concert hall for the last piece of the day). In the Beethoven Sonata No. 3, he seemed very comfortable with the really fast, complex stuff, and had a bold, commanding sound.
Ganev's Chopin Nocturne was equally fast and equally hard. Ganev was able to turn that tendency into an asset, particularly when playing the complex cascades of notes that filled his chosen Chopin. The piece also incorporates plenty of crossovers, which he was quite able to pull off. The Samuel Barber sonata that followed was rich in volume, speed and commanding sound.
Ganev's Chopin Nocturne was equally fast and equally hard. Ganev was able to turn that tendency into an asset, particularly when playing the complex cascades of notes that filled his chosen Chopin. The piece also incorporates plenty of crossovers, which he was quite able to pull off. The Samuel Barber sonata that followed was rich in volume, speed and commanding sound.
Yesse Kim: Back Again and Having Fun
As much as I may have made them seem homogenous in these last ten posts, the various Preludes & Fugues in J.S. Bach's "A Well-Tempered Clavier" do allow a bit of variety for the discerning semifinalist. This shows up both in the interpretation of the piece on stage, and in the music that they're performing in the first place. When Yesse Kim picked out her Prelude and Fugue for performance, returning to the PianoArts stage after a previous appearance in 2010, she did so with a hell of a kick. Kim's interpretation of No. 5 number combined the virtues of being elegant and fast; the notes cascaded out of her piano without feeling rushed, sounded graceful without being overly slow.
Before beginning Beethoven's Sonata No. 24, she gave a brief talk about the piece and you could just tell that she was thrilled to be back. She really nicely characterized the now-you-see-it-now-you-don't, trickster nature of the piece, describing it as Beethoven teasing his friends and promising to reveal a secret. When she took her seat at the keyboard and began to play, she did a good job selling that Here I am! (No I'm not) kind of feeling to the audience. The second movement appears in my notes as "blisteringly fast". It incorporated lots of dramatic short pauses after which the pianist soldiers on unscathed.
For her performance of Leon Kirchner's Five Pieces for Piano, Kim threw in another great description of the various movements. I love a good characterization, and Kim first described, then helped the audience see the auctioneer and the despairing man in movements 1 and 2. That latter movement was almost unbearably quiet and full of harmonic pedal noises towards the end. Kim is equally adept at the quiet, evocative pieces and the staggeringly complex ones. She described her performance as a four-course meal, with the Chopin Nocturne at the end as a piece of "chocolate cake". I have never tasted a cake that felt quite so somber as that Nocturne did, but it was nonetheless delicious.
Before beginning Beethoven's Sonata No. 24, she gave a brief talk about the piece and you could just tell that she was thrilled to be back. She really nicely characterized the now-you-see-it-now-you-don't, trickster nature of the piece, describing it as Beethoven teasing his friends and promising to reveal a secret. When she took her seat at the keyboard and began to play, she did a good job selling that Here I am! (No I'm not) kind of feeling to the audience. The second movement appears in my notes as "blisteringly fast". It incorporated lots of dramatic short pauses after which the pianist soldiers on unscathed.
Christian Gamboa: A Courtly Soul
When describing the Mozart Sonata he was about to play (No. 12, if you're interested), Christian Gamboa spoke of such scenes as a distant fanfare of trumpets, a diabolic chase and a court dance "inserted in there somewhere". The pre-piece talk was certainly evocative of Mozart's sonata, but it showed off Gamboa's imagination to an even greater degree. He brought out each individual aspect of the piece in turn, bouncing in his chair and getting more into the piece as it went along. The Adagio within the Mozart was mellifluous and melodious, and the entire piece had a courtly, pleasantly old-fashioned feel. His rendition of the mandated J.S. Bach Prelude and Fugue from "A Well-Mannered Clavier" was similarly stately.
Gamboa is a deliberate pianist. At least in this recital, his sound didn't have a lot of muscle to it, but he was technically sound and rather cautious in his approach (to my ear). I thought I heard a slip-up or two in the Mozart, but he quickly refocused and didn't make that mistake again. Gamboa also proved to be a knowledgeable student of music, drawing viewers' attention to the "pianistic writing" in Elliot Carter's piano sonata. Throughout the Carter, he kept up a sense of gravitas, resisting what must have been a strong urge to just run away with the piece. A large, dramatic conclusion was the pay-off for all the waiting, trailing off into a glitter in the distance.
Gamboa is a deliberate pianist. At least in this recital, his sound didn't have a lot of muscle to it, but he was technically sound and rather cautious in his approach (to my ear). I thought I heard a slip-up or two in the Mozart, but he quickly refocused and didn't make that mistake again. Gamboa also proved to be a knowledgeable student of music, drawing viewers' attention to the "pianistic writing" in Elliot Carter's piano sonata. Throughout the Carter, he kept up a sense of gravitas, resisting what must have been a strong urge to just run away with the piece. A large, dramatic conclusion was the pay-off for all the waiting, trailing off into a glitter in the distance.
Garrick Olsen: A Bit of a Flourish
By the time No. 9 semifinalist Garrick Olsen had adjusted his seat and started to play, your trusty blogger had already heard eight iterations of one or another Prelude and Fugue from J.S. Bach's "The Well-Tempered Clavier, Book II" and was starting to wonder if any well-meaning clavier had ever gotten frustrated enough to take a hatchet to the offending instrument. Happily for the Conservatory's piano, Olsen refrained from this course of action; indeed, his Prelude and Fugue was more hesitant than well-tempered. At times, he would push the volume up a little bit and then draw back just as suddenly.
In the first movement of Franz Joseph Haydn's Sonata No. 52, he got a bit more imaginative. Although he eschewed the edged weaponry, Olsen was sharp and quick during the sonata's numerous one-handed passages, flourishing his left hand and ably contrasting the faster, more demanding passages with slower, passive parts. It almost looked like he was holding an invisible baton during the Chopin Nocturne No. 13; sometimes when the left hand was temporarily on break, he seemed almost to be conducting the sound. Whether Olsen was playing to an orchestra or bouncing up and down in his seat with excitement, one thing was clear: the kid loves to play.
You could see this in the final two pieces as well, namely Alexander Schriabin's Sonata No. 9 and Marc-André Hamelin's 12 Etudes in All the Minor Keys. Olsen described both pieces as riffing off the theme of evil as a seductive force, showing up musically with dark and brooding "evil" themes mixed with a kind of sickly sweet theme. Although he appeared somewhat nervous when talking to the crowd, Olsen warmed up when going into the detailed (and creepy) backstory of the No. 8 etude, "Erlkönig", and when describing the over-the-top playfulness of the No. 6 etude. Olsen really made me see the father and son on the horse, and gave the audience a distinctly unsettling glimpse of the monstrous Erlkönig. After that, hearing the No. 6 etude--which, as Olsen warned, was full of comically over-the-top overhand crosses and gaps--was just awesome. There were so many overhand crosses, it honestly looked like a giant game of patty-cake; the piece was full of laughter, both in the notes and elicited from the audience.
In the first movement of Franz Joseph Haydn's Sonata No. 52, he got a bit more imaginative. Although he eschewed the edged weaponry, Olsen was sharp and quick during the sonata's numerous one-handed passages, flourishing his left hand and ably contrasting the faster, more demanding passages with slower, passive parts. It almost looked like he was holding an invisible baton during the Chopin Nocturne No. 13; sometimes when the left hand was temporarily on break, he seemed almost to be conducting the sound. Whether Olsen was playing to an orchestra or bouncing up and down in his seat with excitement, one thing was clear: the kid loves to play.
You could see this in the final two pieces as well, namely Alexander Schriabin's Sonata No. 9 and Marc-André Hamelin's 12 Etudes in All the Minor Keys. Olsen described both pieces as riffing off the theme of evil as a seductive force, showing up musically with dark and brooding "evil" themes mixed with a kind of sickly sweet theme. Although he appeared somewhat nervous when talking to the crowd, Olsen warmed up when going into the detailed (and creepy) backstory of the No. 8 etude, "Erlkönig", and when describing the over-the-top playfulness of the No. 6 etude. Olsen really made me see the father and son on the horse, and gave the audience a distinctly unsettling glimpse of the monstrous Erlkönig. After that, hearing the No. 6 etude--which, as Olsen warned, was full of comically over-the-top overhand crosses and gaps--was just awesome. There were so many overhand crosses, it honestly looked like a giant game of patty-cake; the piece was full of laughter, both in the notes and elicited from the audience.
Saturday, June 9, 2012
Xiaohui Yang: Into Her World
During Beethoven's Sonata No. 26, the pianist has several long, drawn-out notes played with the right hand, while the left hand has no part. When Xiaohui Yang played these notes in particular, her left hand seemed to rise almost of its own accord. As if holding an imaginary conductor's baton, it drifted through the air and almost seemed to be shaping the music all by itself. That's how into her pieces Xiaohui Yang was. In all the sprinting and stopping in that piece, in the loud and forceful parts and in the quiet, contemplative ones, Yang never seemed anything less than totally absorbed in the music. Pressure of the competition be damned, she looked like she was having the time of her life.
Yang's Well-Tempered Clavier was strong and forceful without losing its temper or being overly demonstrative. It's a weird combination to have, but Yang pulled it off: an assertive, unabashed Bach that didn't run away with itself and become just a long cascade of notes. Very direct and to-the-point. Her Chopin Nocturne was largely as calm and quiet as most of them were, except for those long archipelagos of notes that she put some life into.
If I were ranking the semifinalists purely by the evocative images they conjured up out of their pieces, Yang would definitely be in the top three. When describing her flagship piece, Robert Muczynski's Six Preludes for Piano, she told the audience how "a vivid character is crystallized in each [prelude]", including the "arrogant guy who walks down the street and whistles" and "someone with an attitude problem that no-one wants to talk to." She put some serious edge into even the jaunty bits of the arrogant guy's prelude, and yet it was still jaunty as all get out. It's not an overly common thing where the description and the piece itself were both pleasurable to listen to, and I quite liked that.
Yang's Well-Tempered Clavier was strong and forceful without losing its temper or being overly demonstrative. It's a weird combination to have, but Yang pulled it off: an assertive, unabashed Bach that didn't run away with itself and become just a long cascade of notes. Very direct and to-the-point. Her Chopin Nocturne was largely as calm and quiet as most of them were, except for those long archipelagos of notes that she put some life into.
If I were ranking the semifinalists purely by the evocative images they conjured up out of their pieces, Yang would definitely be in the top three. When describing her flagship piece, Robert Muczynski's Six Preludes for Piano, she told the audience how "a vivid character is crystallized in each [prelude]", including the "arrogant guy who walks down the street and whistles" and "someone with an attitude problem that no-one wants to talk to." She put some serious edge into even the jaunty bits of the arrogant guy's prelude, and yet it was still jaunty as all get out. It's not an overly common thing where the description and the piece itself were both pleasurable to listen to, and I quite liked that.
Pin Hsu (Emma) Liu: Theme and Variation
According to a pre-recital talk, Leonard Bernstein's "Touches" was written as an exercise in character creation. Take one theme and play with it half a dozen different ways; make it spooky, make it triumphant, make it cat-on-a-wire jaunty and get a score of different things out of it. In the hands of Pin Hsu (Emma) Liu, all those traits and more were on full display. Liu played the first few movements fairly aggressively, or so it seemed to this blogger, so the variation advertised as "cute" sounded more than a little bit "peeved" at its lot. Even so, she did a good job of bringing out that old Bernstein jauntiness later on, as well as the spooky nightmare fuel in Variation Six.
Liu followed this up with an obligatory Chopin Nocturne (No. 2), another very elegant piece, and a dignified Prelude and Fugue from J.S. Bach. (Dear PianoArts overlords, I know this bit is skimpy, but I noticed that her eyes were closed for much of the Bach and flipped out and forgot to take notes. Please forgive your humble servant.) She closed out her section with Brahms's Fantasies, and here is what I wrote on that: "It's emotional, it's loud, she's into it. She does those little hooks with considerable flair. Whatever she plays, she puts heart into it. Whether calm or fiery, her heart is in it." I don't know what more you can ask from a pianist.
Liu followed this up with an obligatory Chopin Nocturne (No. 2), another very elegant piece, and a dignified Prelude and Fugue from J.S. Bach. (Dear PianoArts overlords, I know this bit is skimpy, but I noticed that her eyes were closed for much of the Bach and flipped out and forgot to take notes. Please forgive your humble servant.) She closed out her section with Brahms's Fantasies, and here is what I wrote on that: "It's emotional, it's loud, she's into it. She does those little hooks with considerable flair. Whatever she plays, she puts heart into it. Whether calm or fiery, her heart is in it." I don't know what more you can ask from a pianist.
Yinuo Qian: Fire and Brimstone
According to the program notes, at the age of nine, Yinuo Qian was awarded second prize in the Chopin Piano Competition in Zhejiang Province, China. Her affinity for that composer apparently stuck; ten years later, at the Wisconsin Conservatory, Qian added four mazurkas by the great Polish composer to the already-required Chopin nocturne. She bounced from a quick, almost angry-sounding first mazurka to a slower, more contemplative one, and on through a wide array of feelings in the next two dances. The second and third mazurkas require the pianist to combine a gentle touch in their left hand with more direct, pointed notes in the right, and I was quite pleased with the way she was able to carry that off.
The Nocturne, a staple of the PianoArts 2012 competition, allowed Qian to show off her ability to create all different kinds of sounds. For much of the piece, she was getting a much fuller, richer sound than in the mazurkas; later on, though, she had a real light, gentle passage high up on the keyboard. In Robert Muczynski's Toccata, she adopted a much more bombastic, percussive style to suit the piece's brusque chords. And on the J.S. Bach Prelude and Fugue, Qian sounded brisk, light and sharp. As if all that wasn't enough, she also sounded sad later in the piece; vigorous and brisk, yes, but somehow sad at the same time. I'm not used to one pianist drawing all of those emotions out of the piano, but Qian pulled it off wonderfully.
Qian capped off her part of the marathon recital with Alexander Scriabin's Piano Sonata No. 2, a calm, melodious piece. There were a lot of neat little harmonies embedded throughout the work, and Qian was able to find and expose them to good effect. It ended up being a really pretty and melodious tune. In my notes is the phrase "She really does have a lot of passion that goes into this," which is pretty much true; Qian's performance was as emotional as it was technically sound. Her behavior on-stage was very expressive as well, as she would lean back on the seat or lean forward in particularly intense parts. It looked like she was almost choked up at the end. If I may be permitted to use Nike's old slogan, Qian really did "Leave nothing" on the stage. Instead, she put everything into those pieces.
The Nocturne, a staple of the PianoArts 2012 competition, allowed Qian to show off her ability to create all different kinds of sounds. For much of the piece, she was getting a much fuller, richer sound than in the mazurkas; later on, though, she had a real light, gentle passage high up on the keyboard. In Robert Muczynski's Toccata, she adopted a much more bombastic, percussive style to suit the piece's brusque chords. And on the J.S. Bach Prelude and Fugue, Qian sounded brisk, light and sharp. As if all that wasn't enough, she also sounded sad later in the piece; vigorous and brisk, yes, but somehow sad at the same time. I'm not used to one pianist drawing all of those emotions out of the piano, but Qian pulled it off wonderfully.
Qian capped off her part of the marathon recital with Alexander Scriabin's Piano Sonata No. 2, a calm, melodious piece. There were a lot of neat little harmonies embedded throughout the work, and Qian was able to find and expose them to good effect. It ended up being a really pretty and melodious tune. In my notes is the phrase "She really does have a lot of passion that goes into this," which is pretty much true; Qian's performance was as emotional as it was technically sound. Her behavior on-stage was very expressive as well, as she would lean back on the seat or lean forward in particularly intense parts. It looked like she was almost choked up at the end. If I may be permitted to use Nike's old slogan, Qian really did "Leave nothing" on the stage. Instead, she put everything into those pieces.
Brian Lin: Watch the Hands
If you will pardon a brief editorial note from your friendly neighborhood blogger: In between Sahun Hong's performance and Brian Lin's, I moved from the right side of the concert hall to the left side, enabling me to see the hands of the performers. When I watched Brian Lin's hands (for the first time in the competition with anybody's), I was absolutely blown away. He's completely comfortable crossing his left hand over his right, and when playing a completely different mood with each hand. In his version of J.S. Bach's Prelude and Fugue, the left hand has to maintain a weighty, moody background feel while the right hand is jumping around and doing all sorts of sprightly things. This is a skill I suspect not everybody has, but Lin has it in spades.*
This is also the first time where I specifically mentioned a performer's basic sound in my notes. Simply put, Lin had just a gorgeous sound throughout all of his pieces. It was very clear and pure, not tainted by the crashing of keys or the overuse of the pedals, and just thoroughly pleasurable to hear. You could hear that in the Bach, as well as in Beethoven's Sonata no. 30, of which he played the third movement alone. That particular piece is not a barnstormer, like many third movements are; a large chunk of the piece is soft, tremulous buildup before the storm. It takes a long transition from quiet and picturesque feelings to very loud, technically complex passages, but Lin was able to negotiate it very well. The obligatory Chopin nocturne also starts out quietly; for some reason, listening to Lin's rendition, it sounded like a foggy day in London in the late nineteenth century. He really brought out that sadness of the nocturne, rather then blowing it out of the water.
Lin's final piece was the Gargoyles again, which Josephine Yang also performed in her turn. This was the first repeat of a piece in the concert, and I found it really entertaining to see what similarities and differences there were between their two interpretations. Where Yang saw a sudden movement, an atmospheric one, a wavelike one and a sudden attack, Lin saw a cohesive story about the gargoyles in question. The brooding first movement paints a picture of the gargoyles, the second gives them a mysterious, eerie element, the third reminded him of water running and the fourth saw the gargoyles acquire heartbeats and come alive. It was a wonderfully creepy story to hear, and it was a splendid interpretation. He really brought out the mysteriousness of the second movement, and captured the fourth movement's spinning-out-of-control sense.
As you've probably guessed, I also loved Lin's presentation. He came up with great stories and musical factoids about each piece, and brought a deeply personal touch to his explanation of why he picked the Beethoven to do in this competition. He gives the listener vivid images to imagine in the upcoming piece, and then provides the perfect musical interpretation of them. Lin looked like the music physically took something out of him, flinging his head forward and back with each climax in the pieces. He was a pleasure to watch.
*If everyone has it, don't tell me. I am but a humble cellist trying to blog about piano stuff.
This is also the first time where I specifically mentioned a performer's basic sound in my notes. Simply put, Lin had just a gorgeous sound throughout all of his pieces. It was very clear and pure, not tainted by the crashing of keys or the overuse of the pedals, and just thoroughly pleasurable to hear. You could hear that in the Bach, as well as in Beethoven's Sonata no. 30, of which he played the third movement alone. That particular piece is not a barnstormer, like many third movements are; a large chunk of the piece is soft, tremulous buildup before the storm. It takes a long transition from quiet and picturesque feelings to very loud, technically complex passages, but Lin was able to negotiate it very well. The obligatory Chopin nocturne also starts out quietly; for some reason, listening to Lin's rendition, it sounded like a foggy day in London in the late nineteenth century. He really brought out that sadness of the nocturne, rather then blowing it out of the water.
Lin's final piece was the Gargoyles again, which Josephine Yang also performed in her turn. This was the first repeat of a piece in the concert, and I found it really entertaining to see what similarities and differences there were between their two interpretations. Where Yang saw a sudden movement, an atmospheric one, a wavelike one and a sudden attack, Lin saw a cohesive story about the gargoyles in question. The brooding first movement paints a picture of the gargoyles, the second gives them a mysterious, eerie element, the third reminded him of water running and the fourth saw the gargoyles acquire heartbeats and come alive. It was a wonderfully creepy story to hear, and it was a splendid interpretation. He really brought out the mysteriousness of the second movement, and captured the fourth movement's spinning-out-of-control sense.
As you've probably guessed, I also loved Lin's presentation. He came up with great stories and musical factoids about each piece, and brought a deeply personal touch to his explanation of why he picked the Beethoven to do in this competition. He gives the listener vivid images to imagine in the upcoming piece, and then provides the perfect musical interpretation of them. Lin looked like the music physically took something out of him, flinging his head forward and back with each climax in the pieces. He was a pleasure to watch.
*If everyone has it, don't tell me. I am but a humble cellist trying to blog about piano stuff.
Sahun Hong: Moving On Up
While reading through Sahun Hong's program notes, a few things leap out at you: he enrolled at Texas Christian University at the ripe old age of eleven, graduated at sixteen and does mathematics in his spare time. Did I mention that the Fort Worth native is still only seventeen, and is already pursuing an Artist's Diploma at TCU?
If you can pick your jaw up off the floor (it took me a while) long enough to listen to his music, Hong is also a fascinating pianist. He started out with the familiar J.S. Bach "Well-Tempered Clavier", specifically Prelude and Fugue No. 6. This piece has an absolute deluge of notes in it that threatens to drown the unfortunate pianist. However, Hong not only survived, but thrived in the Great Flood of sixteenth-notes (I think that's what they were): while playing all of these complex patterns, he found the time to draw out scores of little hooks and fillips that are built into the Bach. He found meaning in this mass of notes and was very good at drawing it out for the audience.
This pattern would continue throughout the rest of the program, as Hong continued to show a deep appreciation for the intricacies of the music. Whether it was soft and small or loud and forceful, Hong was able to draw out all the little patterns Schumann put in his Fantasiestücke. He got maybe a touch too aggressive at times in the Schumann, but it really didn't matter. When Hong tried for grandeur near the end of the piece, he pretty well got it; and when he tried for a softer, more expressive sound, it really showed both on his face and in his play. In my notes, right at the end of the Schumann, it says "He's doing pretty much everything pretty well". Hong's Chopin Nocturne and Leon Kirchner's "Interlude II", closing out the program, were performed with a similar mix of technical proficiency and emotional appeal.
Although Hong's mid-concert talks were a little hard to follow (he paused between almost every phrase), he was able to deliver a lot of really good technical information about each piece. This was particularly true of the Kirchner, where he demonstrated and explained several themes before putting them to work in the calm, quiet Interlude.
If you can pick your jaw up off the floor (it took me a while) long enough to listen to his music, Hong is also a fascinating pianist. He started out with the familiar J.S. Bach "Well-Tempered Clavier", specifically Prelude and Fugue No. 6. This piece has an absolute deluge of notes in it that threatens to drown the unfortunate pianist. However, Hong not only survived, but thrived in the Great Flood of sixteenth-notes (I think that's what they were): while playing all of these complex patterns, he found the time to draw out scores of little hooks and fillips that are built into the Bach. He found meaning in this mass of notes and was very good at drawing it out for the audience.
This pattern would continue throughout the rest of the program, as Hong continued to show a deep appreciation for the intricacies of the music. Whether it was soft and small or loud and forceful, Hong was able to draw out all the little patterns Schumann put in his Fantasiestücke. He got maybe a touch too aggressive at times in the Schumann, but it really didn't matter. When Hong tried for grandeur near the end of the piece, he pretty well got it; and when he tried for a softer, more expressive sound, it really showed both on his face and in his play. In my notes, right at the end of the Schumann, it says "He's doing pretty much everything pretty well". Hong's Chopin Nocturne and Leon Kirchner's "Interlude II", closing out the program, were performed with a similar mix of technical proficiency and emotional appeal.
Although Hong's mid-concert talks were a little hard to follow (he paused between almost every phrase), he was able to deliver a lot of really good technical information about each piece. This was particularly true of the Kirchner, where he demonstrated and explained several themes before putting them to work in the calm, quiet Interlude.
Phillip Kwoka: Expressive Expression
Phillip Kwoka is returning to the scene of the crime. The West Palm Beach, Florida native is in his second stint at PianoArts, having previously performed in the 2010 competition. He has an expressive, emotional style that's generally very effective, but it can also cost him; if he makes a mistake, it's there on his face for the whole audience to see.
That happened in the first piece, when Kwoka got lost two or three times in the middle of the Bach and had to stop and go back (a Prelude and Fugue from the Well-Tempered Clavier, by J.S. Bach, are required). He grimaced and went back, grimaced and went back again before finally getting onto the right track. Kwoka did recover nicely and finished the piece well; he preferred to keep the his tone softer and more expressive, stopping only for punchy chords that jumped out at the audience.
Once he got over the Clavier hurdles, however, Kwoka was a pleasure to listen to. He showed off his light touch on the keyboard in Maurice Ravel's Valses Nobles et Sentimentales, making good use of the pedals and showing a deft touch on the notes left hanging in the air. In the Chopin nocturne, he again stayed slower and more expressive. There were moments in Ravel with huge crashing chords, as there were in the nocturne, but both times they were quickly brought back into softness. If listening to Bohrod was a walk in the country, hearing Kwoka was like listening to the ocean. He's a romantic pianist through and through. In the final piece, "Transmissions" by David McIntyre, he showed the ability to lay down some really pretty cascades in the upper registers; it reminded me of how snowflakes look. (Not to slobber all over his playing or anything like that.)
The only real flaw in Kwoka's performance didn't come in the pieces, but in the little talks that the artists give between each piece. He seemed very uncomfortable speaking to the crowd, and was kind of hard to hear. I didn't learn a lot about the pieces listening to him speak, although I learned quite a bit while hearing him play. After a slow start to the concert, Kwoka only got better as he went along.
That happened in the first piece, when Kwoka got lost two or three times in the middle of the Bach and had to stop and go back (a Prelude and Fugue from the Well-Tempered Clavier, by J.S. Bach, are required). He grimaced and went back, grimaced and went back again before finally getting onto the right track. Kwoka did recover nicely and finished the piece well; he preferred to keep the his tone softer and more expressive, stopping only for punchy chords that jumped out at the audience.
Once he got over the Clavier hurdles, however, Kwoka was a pleasure to listen to. He showed off his light touch on the keyboard in Maurice Ravel's Valses Nobles et Sentimentales, making good use of the pedals and showing a deft touch on the notes left hanging in the air. In the Chopin nocturne, he again stayed slower and more expressive. There were moments in Ravel with huge crashing chords, as there were in the nocturne, but both times they were quickly brought back into softness. If listening to Bohrod was a walk in the country, hearing Kwoka was like listening to the ocean. He's a romantic pianist through and through. In the final piece, "Transmissions" by David McIntyre, he showed the ability to lay down some really pretty cascades in the upper registers; it reminded me of how snowflakes look. (Not to slobber all over his playing or anything like that.)
The only real flaw in Kwoka's performance didn't come in the pieces, but in the little talks that the artists give between each piece. He seemed very uncomfortable speaking to the crowd, and was kind of hard to hear. I didn't learn a lot about the pieces listening to him speak, although I learned quite a bit while hearing him play. After a slow start to the concert, Kwoka only got better as he went along.
Ariela Bohrod: Elegance Personified
The first word that comes to mind when describing Ariela Bohrod's play is 'flow'. When she played the required Prelude and Fugue in her solo recital (from J.S. Bach's "The Well-Tempered Clavier", all of the notes just seemed to naturally flow into one another. She didn't hesitate, she didn't rush overmuch; things stayed at a nice, even tempo. Even when the piece started giving her bucketloads of notes, Bohrod kept the lid on things and kept her play orderly. It was less of a mad dash to the finish than a carriage ride in the country.
Bohrod, a sixteen-year-old native of Madison, WI, followed up the Prelude and Fugue with Lowell Lieberman's Sonata No. 1. In her pre-piece talk, Bohrod emphasized the "creepy" nature of the piece, a sort of atmospheric voodoo composition that seemed to fill the concert hall with fog and rotting trees. It started out slow and expressive, then leapt into Presto and cycled back and forth thereafter. There was a bit of skullduggery with the pedals, notes held too long or not long enough that produced weird humming noises, but Bohrod shook that off and kept on going. Where the third movement was very deliberate and introspective, the fourth was fast and complex. Only at the end did she really get loud; for the most part it was tempestuous, yet controlled at the same time.
In the Chopin nocturne that followed, Bohrod seemed to shine in a more melodious piece. Where the Liebermann was atmospheric and "creepy" for the most part, this piece was much more gentle. Closing the program was another Chopin, the Scherzo No. 3; this Bohrod described as "Jekyll and Hyde", contrasting sharp, "punchy" Hyde-style bits with lyrical, expressive Jekyll passages. The piece required considerable skill in melding the two styles into each other, and Bohrod succeeded brilliantly; the punchy bits flowed into melodies and the melodies became more and more pugnacious. The last few bars featured plenty of crash-bang-look-out-below chords, but the material still flowed very well.
Perhaps even more than Yang, Bohrod was extremely comfortable on stage; she used the words of a teenager but spoke like an adult. It was apparent that she really loves the music she plays, giving scores of small details and smiling when she outlined the more technical points of each piece. On the piano, her movements were smooth and controlled, flowing from one gesture into the next. "The word that comes to mind is 'elegant'," said my notes, and I think they are correct. Well done.
Bohrod, a sixteen-year-old native of Madison, WI, followed up the Prelude and Fugue with Lowell Lieberman's Sonata No. 1. In her pre-piece talk, Bohrod emphasized the "creepy" nature of the piece, a sort of atmospheric voodoo composition that seemed to fill the concert hall with fog and rotting trees. It started out slow and expressive, then leapt into Presto and cycled back and forth thereafter. There was a bit of skullduggery with the pedals, notes held too long or not long enough that produced weird humming noises, but Bohrod shook that off and kept on going. Where the third movement was very deliberate and introspective, the fourth was fast and complex. Only at the end did she really get loud; for the most part it was tempestuous, yet controlled at the same time.
Perhaps even more than Yang, Bohrod was extremely comfortable on stage; she used the words of a teenager but spoke like an adult. It was apparent that she really loves the music she plays, giving scores of small details and smiling when she outlined the more technical points of each piece. On the piano, her movements were smooth and controlled, flowing from one gesture into the next. "The word that comes to mind is 'elegant'," said my notes, and I think they are correct. Well done.
Josephine Yang: Con Fuoco!
Hello, dear PianoArts blog-readers! Today is Solo Recital Day, meaning that each semifinalist will give a solo recital before three professional judges and three student judges, as well as whatever random audience members happen to be in the room. I'm going to have a short review of each performer for you as they come up, so if you couldn't make it to all twelve recitals, you should still have some idea of what's going on.
Josephine Yang, who hails from Phoenix, Arizona, was the first contestant. And let me say, Yang blew the doors off the concert hall! Her style of play is very loud, fast and in-your-face, and her repertoire allowed her to play to that strength. After the required selection from J.S. Bach's "The Well-Tempered Clavier", Yang launched into Chopin's Nocturne No. 13 and just about raced through it. She was very loud, aggressive and very into the music, but Yang isn't a one-dimensional pianist; she wound up the tempest as softly and calmly as you please.
Next up was a selection from Maurice Ravel's Miroirs, namely "Alborada del gracioso: 'The Comedian's Aubade'". Again, her interpretation of the piece was very fast, loud and precise: she seemed very comfortable playing at Roadrunner-like speeds, and carried the piece off well. Yang is a very physical pianist, and a lot of fun to watch; every complicated phrase with the left hand is accompanied by a flourish, and every climatic moment with a nod of the head and a toss of her hair. You could tell watching her that she was extremely into the music she'd chosen to play.
Before the final piece, Lowell Liebermann's Gargoyles, Yang took a moment to explain it to the audience. She seemed moderately comfortable talking to the crowd, but grew more and more at ease when explaining the distinctive sound of each movement (I. sudden, II. atmospheric, III. wavelike motions, IV. Attack!). Her explanations were clear and easy to follow, and what's more, they helped me understand the piece that followed them. I loved the eerie, ethereal sound in the second movement, "Adagio semplice, ma con molto rubato". (Just don't ask me what that means.) Yang wound up the fourth "Attack!" movement with a thunderous crescendo that made every living soul in the building sit up straight. For fire and passion in this competition, it'll be hard to top Josephine Yang.
Josephine Yang, who hails from Phoenix, Arizona, was the first contestant. And let me say, Yang blew the doors off the concert hall! Her style of play is very loud, fast and in-your-face, and her repertoire allowed her to play to that strength. After the required selection from J.S. Bach's "The Well-Tempered Clavier", Yang launched into Chopin's Nocturne No. 13 and just about raced through it. She was very loud, aggressive and very into the music, but Yang isn't a one-dimensional pianist; she wound up the tempest as softly and calmly as you please.
Next up was a selection from Maurice Ravel's Miroirs, namely "Alborada del gracioso: 'The Comedian's Aubade'". Again, her interpretation of the piece was very fast, loud and precise: she seemed very comfortable playing at Roadrunner-like speeds, and carried the piece off well. Yang is a very physical pianist, and a lot of fun to watch; every complicated phrase with the left hand is accompanied by a flourish, and every climatic moment with a nod of the head and a toss of her hair. You could tell watching her that she was extremely into the music she'd chosen to play.
Before the final piece, Lowell Liebermann's Gargoyles, Yang took a moment to explain it to the audience. She seemed moderately comfortable talking to the crowd, but grew more and more at ease when explaining the distinctive sound of each movement (I. sudden, II. atmospheric, III. wavelike motions, IV. Attack!). Her explanations were clear and easy to follow, and what's more, they helped me understand the piece that followed them. I loved the eerie, ethereal sound in the second movement, "Adagio semplice, ma con molto rubato". (Just don't ask me what that means.) Yang wound up the fourth "Attack!" movement with a thunderous crescendo that made every living soul in the building sit up straight. For fire and passion in this competition, it'll be hard to top Josephine Yang.
Friday, June 8, 2012
David Ko Sets the Bar
If you're a semifinalist in the PianoArts competition, hosted at the Wisconsin Conservatory of Music, and you happened to catch David Ko's performance Friday night, you are now officially on notice. Ko, who won the 2010 competition, showed the audience just how good this year's winner will have to be.
By way of a repertoire that included J.S. Bach, Beethoven, Debussy, Alban Berg and Franz Liszt, Ko's mastery of the piano was on full display Friday night. Ko was equally comfortable with slower, more romantic playing and faster, more technically precise passages. Particularly during Debussy's Estampes, he showed great awareness of when to slow down the piece and when to pour on the intensity. He's able to pull off the most stupendously complicated passages with little apparent effort, and then transition straight into calmer, more melodious bits with little or no ill effects. In Beethoven's Sonata No. 27, which he characterized as a "war between head and heart", the more forceful "head" theme comes in with jarring suddenness, and just as suddenly gives way to the calm, quiet "heart". It's not the easiest thing to pull off, but you'd never know that from watching Ko.
Not only did Ko win the competition outright, but he also took home the Audience Communication Award two years ago. Watching him tonight, I could see why; he stopped to give a little talk before each of his five pieces, and genuinely seemed to be enjoying himself during each one. Even better, the talks were genuinely informative. For a musical dunce such as myself, it's much appreciated when the artist plays samples of the main themes before the piece begins, tells you what they mean and points out where you might hear them. (I'm sure the aficionados in the audience could find reason to appreciate that as well.)
There were really only two things about the performance I didn't like. The first was a persistent electronic whine, right at the edge of one's hearing, likely caused by one of the small army of microphones surrounding Ko and his instrument. The second was a rather awkwardly timed encore; Ko had just finished the piece with Lizst's Venizia e Napoli, ending with the Tarentella, and that was the piece on the program that he probably got the most into. Impassive through most of the rest of the performance, Ko smiled, grimaced, flourished and danced across the keyboard through a mesmerizing finale. The audience erupted with applause, Ko took his bows, and the whole thing seemed to have come to a satisfying and natural conclusion. But as people were standing up and getting ready to go, Ko flew back onstage for a quick, bloodless performance of "Dance of the Beautiful Maiden" that just felt out of place after the emotional Tarentella. It's an indictment of how good the previous couple of hours were, in a way, that the concert really didn't need any extra music.
Other than that, however, the show was magnificent. Semifinalists be warned: the bar has been set. As the great classical pianist Roy Jones Jr.* once said, "Go hard... or go home."
*Disclaimer: Roy Jones Jr. is the definition of not a classical pianist.
By way of a repertoire that included J.S. Bach, Beethoven, Debussy, Alban Berg and Franz Liszt, Ko's mastery of the piano was on full display Friday night. Ko was equally comfortable with slower, more romantic playing and faster, more technically precise passages. Particularly during Debussy's Estampes, he showed great awareness of when to slow down the piece and when to pour on the intensity. He's able to pull off the most stupendously complicated passages with little apparent effort, and then transition straight into calmer, more melodious bits with little or no ill effects. In Beethoven's Sonata No. 27, which he characterized as a "war between head and heart", the more forceful "head" theme comes in with jarring suddenness, and just as suddenly gives way to the calm, quiet "heart". It's not the easiest thing to pull off, but you'd never know that from watching Ko.
Not only did Ko win the competition outright, but he also took home the Audience Communication Award two years ago. Watching him tonight, I could see why; he stopped to give a little talk before each of his five pieces, and genuinely seemed to be enjoying himself during each one. Even better, the talks were genuinely informative. For a musical dunce such as myself, it's much appreciated when the artist plays samples of the main themes before the piece begins, tells you what they mean and points out where you might hear them. (I'm sure the aficionados in the audience could find reason to appreciate that as well.)
There were really only two things about the performance I didn't like. The first was a persistent electronic whine, right at the edge of one's hearing, likely caused by one of the small army of microphones surrounding Ko and his instrument. The second was a rather awkwardly timed encore; Ko had just finished the piece with Lizst's Venizia e Napoli, ending with the Tarentella, and that was the piece on the program that he probably got the most into. Impassive through most of the rest of the performance, Ko smiled, grimaced, flourished and danced across the keyboard through a mesmerizing finale. The audience erupted with applause, Ko took his bows, and the whole thing seemed to have come to a satisfying and natural conclusion. But as people were standing up and getting ready to go, Ko flew back onstage for a quick, bloodless performance of "Dance of the Beautiful Maiden" that just felt out of place after the emotional Tarentella. It's an indictment of how good the previous couple of hours were, in a way, that the concert really didn't need any extra music.
Other than that, however, the show was magnificent. Semifinalists be warned: the bar has been set. As the great classical pianist Roy Jones Jr.* once said, "Go hard... or go home."
*Disclaimer: Roy Jones Jr. is the definition of not a classical pianist.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Opening Night With the Prometheus Trio
After a brief speech by pianist and PianoArts Artistic Chair Stefanie Jacob, her trio kicked off a week of PianoArts events with a performance of Arno Babadjanian's Piano Concerto in F#.
To this blogger, the first movement was all about conflict and calm, crisis and retreat. Babadjanian's work, which Jacob described as "cyclic" and based around a returning motto, starts out sleepy and escalates into apocalyptic within the first ninety seconds. The trio draws down into a gentler piano solo, climbs back into another crisis and eventually pulls back. The term "roller-coaster ride" is pretty overused as a descriptor, but it's an apt one for the first movement of Babadjanian's masterpiece.
Violinist Tim Klabunde and cellist Scott Tisdel did a good job of drawing out the wildness in the concerto, then pulling back when it was time to calm down. Klabunde's high, keening violin could be heard frequently over Jacob's thunderous chords later in the first movement. The whole thing stopped in mid-phrase, a tremulous violin solo crawls out of the wreckage and the cycle starts again. Babadjanian must've loved that effect, because it happens at least three times in the piece. After a relatively quiet, breathy second movement, the trio carried off a sharp third movement filled with angry pizzicato. Instead of periodically calming down, the piece started wild and got wilder. Jacob, Klabunde and Tisdel kept it together all the way to the much-applauded finish.
As Milwaukee's classical aficionados will know, the Prometheus Trio has a good deal of experience not only with each other, but with this concerto specifically; they last played it in April during their normal trio series at the Conservatory. You'll pardon this blogger's syrupiness, since both of his parents are in the trio (Tisdel and Jacob), but it really did seem to show. Piano, violin and cello played off each other very well; throughout the piece, they kept a good sense of when to pour on the intensity and when to ease up. On the penultimate flourish, seconds before the piece ended, they even jerked back and nodded their heads in unison before playing the final notes. All in all, it was a spirited beginning to this week of PianoArts events (and hopefully lit a fire under the semifinalists!)
To this blogger, the first movement was all about conflict and calm, crisis and retreat. Babadjanian's work, which Jacob described as "cyclic" and based around a returning motto, starts out sleepy and escalates into apocalyptic within the first ninety seconds. The trio draws down into a gentler piano solo, climbs back into another crisis and eventually pulls back. The term "roller-coaster ride" is pretty overused as a descriptor, but it's an apt one for the first movement of Babadjanian's masterpiece.
Violinist Tim Klabunde and cellist Scott Tisdel did a good job of drawing out the wildness in the concerto, then pulling back when it was time to calm down. Klabunde's high, keening violin could be heard frequently over Jacob's thunderous chords later in the first movement. The whole thing stopped in mid-phrase, a tremulous violin solo crawls out of the wreckage and the cycle starts again. Babadjanian must've loved that effect, because it happens at least three times in the piece. After a relatively quiet, breathy second movement, the trio carried off a sharp third movement filled with angry pizzicato. Instead of periodically calming down, the piece started wild and got wilder. Jacob, Klabunde and Tisdel kept it together all the way to the much-applauded finish.
As Milwaukee's classical aficionados will know, the Prometheus Trio has a good deal of experience not only with each other, but with this concerto specifically; they last played it in April during their normal trio series at the Conservatory. You'll pardon this blogger's syrupiness, since both of his parents are in the trio (Tisdel and Jacob), but it really did seem to show. Piano, violin and cello played off each other very well; throughout the piece, they kept a good sense of when to pour on the intensity and when to ease up. On the penultimate flourish, seconds before the piece ended, they even jerked back and nodded their heads in unison before playing the final notes. All in all, it was a spirited beginning to this week of PianoArts events (and hopefully lit a fire under the semifinalists!)
Thursday Afternoon: Check-In Time And Artist Order
Notes From Check-In
All over the Wisconsin Conservatory of Music drawing room, people are tapping on their phones, scribbling on forms,
buttonholing semifinalists for long conversations. A few semifinalists swap
travel stories. Somebody’s grandson plays with a plastic toy airplane. Three semifinalists
cluster together, swapping stories and future plans. Across the room, conversations
and hi-how-are-yous mix with last-minute logistical arrangements. Contestants exchange rapid-fire bursts of Chinese. There's
a kind of genial hustle and bustle everywhere.
Finalists pick through light blue PianoArts bags, brimming
over with papers and CDs. A giant sheet of paper filled with practice room
slots is slowly filling up. A Journal Sentinel article describing the
competition takes center stage on the check-in table. “Come on in. We’ve got
some stuff for you,” Bill Stafford tells a new arrival—Josephine Yang—in a
flowing gray-and-white dress. She walks over to a long covered table and begins
the check-in process.
Another contestant-Yoan Ganev-wears blue jeans and a gray
T-shirt stamped “Westfield Physical”, but a fancy leather-and-gold watch
perches on his wrist. Model trains rattle across the floor downstairs as the
little brother amuses himself. He’s somebody’s grandchild, being taken care of
all day. “He didn’t mind going to the airport in the morning,” his grandmother
tells me.
Much later on, the official order for both the solo and the duo is drawn and set. Each semifinalist receives a number for their solo and a letter for their duo performance.
Solo Order
1. Josephine Yang (Phoenix, AZ)
2. Ariela Bohrad (Madison, WI)
3. Phillip Kwoka (West Palm Beach, FL)
4. Sahun Hong (Fort Worth, TX)
5. Brian Lin (New York City and Shenzhen, China)
6. Yinuo Qian (San Francisco, CA and Wenzhou, China)
7. Psi Hsu "Emma" Liu (Rochester, NY and Taichung, Taiwan)
8. Xiaohui Yang (Philadelphia, PA and Chaoyang, China)
9. Garrick Olsen (Madison, WI)
10. Christian Gamboa (Hamburg, NJ)
11. Yesse Kim (Ann Arbor, MI)
12. Yoan Ganev (Wheeling, IL)
Duo Order
1. Yinuo Qian
2. Xiaohui Yang
3. Brian Lin
4. Yesse Kim
5. Josephine Yang
6. Phillip Kwoka
7. Christian Gamboa
8. Garrick Olsen
9.Yoan Ganev
10. Emma Liu
11. Sahun Hong
12. Ariela Bohrod
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