Sunday 17 February 2013

Concert review: Alexander Gavrylyuk 16/2/13

Last Saturday I went to a recital by Alexander Gavrylyuk at the Melbourne Recital Centre. It's the third time I've seen him perform, which is testimony to my high opinion of his playing.

I remember that the first time I heard him, I came away with the impression that he was a perfect pianist, and the second recital I went to (some years later) only served to confirm this view. However, at the time of these recitals, my knowledge of piano repetoire and of pianistic technique in general was limited. I can't even remember most of what he played! I do recall, however, hearing him perform the Moonlight Sonata and being amazed at his interpretation of the first movement, which was unlike anything I'd ever heard before. I'm used to hearing this movement played very limply and weakly, which I hate. Gavyrlyuk played it with such emotional intensity and depth that for the first time I found myself actually understanding the music.

It's very different to be hearing Gavrylyuk now, when my own experience of the piano and piano repetoire is so much broader (and growing every day). Naturally, it's easier for me to find faults in people's playing  - if you can call them 'faults' - since I've now heard many more pianists than I had back then, and have established what I like and don't like with regards to interpretation and technique. However, my opinion of Gavrylyuk's playing hasn't changed much.

The program started with Bach's Italian Concerto. Before going to the concert I had listened to excerpts of Gavrylyuk playing this piece on Youtube, recorded nearly ten years ago. I have to admit I was not impressed - I found his interpretation excessively heavy and rather lifeless. However, in 8 years I believe he has matured a lot - his performance on Saturday night was beautiful, much lighter and more elegant than the recording on Youtube.
His interpretation was not quite to my taste, since I like my Bach Glenn-Gould style: dry and 'crunchy', without any pedal, and hard-edged rather than pretty. Gavrylyuk played it with an (albeit very skillful) use of the pedal and very sweetly. It was certainly a 'pretty' performance.

The second piece before interval was Schumann's Fantasie. This is a piece I like, although I don't know it very well, having probably only listened to the entire thing once or twice. I'm well aware of the enourmous technical difficulties it poses, and these didn't seem to trouble Gavrylyuk at all. However, I'm used to hearing Evgeny Kissin's tumultuous, stormy interpretation, and Gavrylyuk played it so differently that I almost didn't recognise it.
He is a small, compact man, rather mouse-like in appearence, but he is somehow capable of making the piano sound like an earthquake. I would have liked to hear a bit of that earthquake-iness at the start of the Schumann, but in fact all I heard was the first note in the bass followed by a very gentle crescendo into the arpeggios, which got completely lost in the acoustic of the auditorium (about which I will say more later.) All in all it was a bit of a let-down, despite the sections of exciting technical fireworks.

However, what was to follow after interval well and truly made up for the disappointment, and even inclined me to think that Gavrylyuk had not been giving his all in the first half of the recital just in order to have the stamina for the second half.

I first heard Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition played by Nikolai Demidenko when he gave a recital in Brisbane in 2011. It was a great recital, but unfortunately I was coming down with a cold and was so exhausted I had trouble focussing on the music. I woke up for 'Baba Yaga', since it sounded like heavy metal. That's all I really remember.

Demidenko is an interesting pianist, but I find his tone tends to be quite harsh. One of Alexander Gavyrlyuk's strongest points is his tone, which is always incredibly warm and beautiful, even at maximum volume. He got an excellent opportunity to display this technique when he performed the Pictures on Saturday night.

When Gavrylyuk came out on stage after interval, he barely waited for people to finish sitting down before plunging straight into the opening 'Promenade'. It annoys me how pianists always play this opening so stridently and harshly. Gavrylyuk, by contrast, played it very beautifully, shaping each note with the pedal. His playing had the intensity and focus I had come to expect from him. and which I felt was somewhat lacking in the first half of the program.
Gavrylyuk's interpretation of Baba Yaga wasn't what I was expecting. I've heard so many poor interpretations of this movement - lacking in rhythm, bite, volume, you name it. Gavrylyuk played it better than any I've heard so far - even better than Demidenko. The volume he achieved in the loud sections of the work, especially near the end, was terrifying; one half expected the auditorium to collapse from the sheer massiveness of the sound, and yet the tone was not percussive at all, just rich and pure.

I don't think I'd ever really understood what a masterpiece Pictures at an Exhibition is until I heard Gavrylyuk's interpretation, which somehow just made perfect sense to me. For the first time I felt like all the movements of the work hung together and were interconnected, and his playing held my attention for the entire work (which is quite a feat, in my opinion.)

Gavrylyuk got a well-deserved standing ovation, and played three encores - THREE, after Pictures at an Exhibition and the Schumann Fantasie! - one of which was quite long and virtuosic: Horowitz's variations on the Mendelssohn Wedding March. This showpiece was framed by a Rachmaninov Prelude and the Vocalise. All were perfect, and Gavrylyuk played them with the same intensity he displayed in the Mussorgsky. The high standard of his playing in the second half of the recital is what made me think that he was saving himself for that. I also feel that Gavrylyuk has a particular affinity with Russian composers.

My main reservation about the recital was not do to with Gavrylyuk's playing, but to do with the Melbourne Recital Centre acoustic. The Elisabeth Murdoch hall, where all the major recitals take place, has an INCREDIBLY reverberant acoustic. (What's more, the slightest noise is clearly audible throughout the auditorium. Someone moves their program, you can hear it. Someone whispers, you can hear it. Someone scratches their neck, you can hear it. I'm not kidding. And as for when a phone goes off in the middle of the concert, as it did on Saturday...)

For small ensembles, this acoustic is excellent. When I saw the King's Singers there, it was perfect. Likewise for the Takacs Quartet. However, the reverb (which is probably several seconds long although I haven't counted), doesn't work at all for piano recitals. I first noticed this when I went to see Bezhod Abduraimov. There was a most curious doubling effect created by the reverb, almost a delayed echo. You'd hear a note played, and then immediately afterwards you'd hear it again, bouncing off the walls. It was very disconcerting.

I was in a good position to observe Gavyrlyuk's feet during the recital on Saturday, and it was only by this that I could tell his pedalling technique was highly refined. The reverb was so extreme that you couldn't hear most of the subtleties of pedalling he used, except when the music was slow, which wasn't often! I don't know why I never noticed this unfortunate quality of the acoustic until recently.

To finish I'd like to link to some of Gavrylyuk's recordings, so here is an excerpt of him playing one of my favorite concertos (you can find the other movements in the related videos)
This is pretty cool also

Friday 8 February 2013

CD review: Pollini - Chopin Etudes (1960 recording)

Maurizio Pollini is a pianist I greatly admire - so much so that I wouldn't hesitate to compare him with 2 other pianists I consider to be 'in the same mold', technique-wise and possibly even interpretation-wise: Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli, and the one and only Rachmaninov.
All have an outstanding leggiero technique, never fall back on the pedal to conceal inadequacies (since they have none), and have a deep understanding of the music which they manage to convey without projecting too much of their ego onto the music, resulting in a quite objective yet incredibly moving interpretation.

Anyway, enough adulation. Around the end of last year, I found out about a newish CD - it was actually released in 2011 - which I had somehow not heard about yet. The CD is of a very young Pollini playing the complete Chopin Etudes, recorded in 1960 but unreleased until a few years ago. You can listen to samples (and buy it) here

Until I discovered this recording, my favorite interpretation of the Chopin etudes was Ashkenazy's. In fact, Ashkenazy was the first person I ever heard get ALL the notes right in the Op. 10 No. 1 (I've since discovered other pianists who have achieved this astonishing feat).
However, as soon as I heard the 18-year-old Pollini's interpretation - even though I could only hear 20 second samples of each track - I knew his version was going to replace Ashkenazy's in my affection.
I ordered the CD more or less straight away, but due to some problems wth the delivery, I didn't recieve until a few days ago, nearly 3 months after I bought it! In a way, though, the wait made it even more special when I finally got to listen to the whole thing.

Before I even start on Pollini's playing, I want to say a little about the audio production. One of the things I've always disliked about Ashkenazy's recordings of anything, no matter how good the playing, is the tone: very clangy and bright, with hardly any warmth. I like a warm, mellow piano sound, and I like close mic'ing. Pollini's 1960 recording has both in abundance, along with just a smidgin of ambience and reverb. The result is possibly the most beautiful recording quality I've ever heard. The piano is crystal clear, and very exposed as a result, but the playing is so flawless that this just goes to show off Pollini's incredible technique.

Now for the playing. Needless to say, technically it is note perfect: so is Ashkenazy's, of course. Where Pollini differs from Ashkenazy is in the emotional aspect. Whereas Ashkenazy plays the etudes in accordance with what their name implies - technical studies - Pollini brings out the musical masterpiece in every one of them, which to me is far more what these pieces are about. What makes Chopin's etudes so brilliant and innovative is that in them, technical exercises are turned into miniature works of art - something which had never been done before, and which has set a precedent for many composers since.

Nowhere is the artistic value of the etudes more clear on Pollini's recording than in Op. 10 nos. 3, 6, and 9. In these pieces, one can hear Pollini's deep sensitivity, which is always in perfect balance so that it never becomes sentimentality.
On the technical side of things, a particularly good example is....well, everything. However, I am going to single out Op. 25 No. 11 (my favorite etude EVER) because of the astonishing leggiero and pedalling that it displays. Both of these technical aspects are also showcased in Op. 10 No. 4, 5 and 8.

I feel like Pollini's technique in these etudes fully deserves comparison with Rachmaninov's. It's not very often you hear technique like that anymore: where the pianist is so in control of the pedal that one can't tell that it's being used, nothing is blurred, every note can be heard with crystal clarity and is given equal importance. To me, these are characteristics of both Rachmaninov's and, on this recording at least, Pollini's playing. I really believe if we could hear Rachmaninov's playing recorded with modern technology, it would sound very much like Pollini on this CD.
(...In fact, one CAN hear Rachmaninov playing with modern recording technology: judge for yourself. and in case you're not convinced, here is another example which probably provides a better comparison to the production on Pollini's recording.)

I could go on and on about this CD, but everything I'd say can be summed up in two words. IT'S PERFECT. I highly reccommend it!

P.S. I managed to find Pollini's more recent recording of the Chopin etudes on Youtube, and I really dislike it (not least because of the production, although I don't like the interpretation, which is vastly different, either.)

Monday 4 February 2013

I wouldn't change a note...

This probably sounds harsh, but it's not very often that I find myself able to say about a piece of music, 'I wouldn't change a note of that'.

I've recently come to realise the reason for this is that there are particular compositional elements in music which are significant for me - particular harmonies, chord progressions, and rhythms: however, in most 'well-balanced' compositions, these elements will not be used extensively, since unless the music is minimalist, excessive use of one particular element would be against the rules of 'correct' composing. (This is why I'm interested in minimalism: it gives me 'permission' to write an entire piece consisting solely of just a few musical elements.)

My favorite composers all have one thing in common: a large proportion of their output contains sections (the key word here is 'sections') that make use of these compositional elements which I've identified as being special to me. However, it is extremely unusual for an entire work or movement of work to make exclusive use of these elements, and the sections that do are usually very brief - anything from a page or two to only a few bars long!

The point of this post is to share some of those rare pieces that are perfect to me, so perfect I wouldn't change anything about them. This list is very incomplete; I may add to it over time, but for now it's restricted to music that a) I can find on youtube and b) is "classical".


Ravel: Daphnis & Chloe - Lever du jour (arranged for 2 pianos)
This is an unusual Youtube discovery. I love the original version of Daphnis & Chloe, but I have always prefered piano texture to orchestral texture, and just by chance I came across this incredible arrangement for two pianos of my favorite movement, Lever du jour. It's one of the most amazing things I've ever heard; the pianists and arranger are geniuses.

Steve Reich: Electric counterpoint - 3rd movement
Music for 18 musicians
Six marimbas
Music for large ensemble
As one of my favorite composers of all time, Steve Reich is right up there with Ravel, and a big inspiration to me. His music always amazes me because he uses musical elements I consider perfect, and uses them exclusively. The 3rd movement of Electric Counterpoint is a particularly good example since it consists of two of my all-time favorite chord progressions. It's kind of creepy, actually, because it's like Reich and I share an identical aesthetic understanding.

Messiaen - Regard de l'Esprit de joie
I first heard this piece from the Vingt Regards played by Konrad Olszewski during the 2012 Sydney International Piano Competition, and it rendered me speechless. I still have no words to describe it, although 'utter perfection' comes close.
It's extremely unfortunate that the recording of Konrad's performance in SIPCA is no longer on the web, since I haven't yet been able to find an interpretation of this piece which I like as much as his. Pierre-Laurent Aimard will have to do...

Ginastera: Piano Sonata No. 1 - 4th movement
I discovered this extraordinary piece completely by accident when browsing Youtube one day. The first time I heard it, I just sat there gaping from beginning to end. While the whole sonata is a masterpiece, and I particularly love bits of the first movement, this movement is the only one about which I can say 'I wouldn't change a note'.

Leo Ornstein: Piano Sonata No. 8 - movement 2c
How can I even begin to describe how perfect this is? Just listen, and hopefully you will get it too. (Ornstein is brilliant, by the way.)

Rachmaninov: Etude-tableau Op. 39 no. 8
Since Rachmaninov is one of my favorite composers, it's fitting that something by him should make it into this list. I tried to learn this etude a while ago, but had to stop when I started to get RSI! One day...

Bach: D minor concerto - 3rd movement
To even suggest that one might want to change something about a piece of Bach seems preposterous to me, but I love this movement of this particular concerto so much that I thought it deserved a mention. I've learnt the first 2 movements and am half-dreading, half-looking forward to learning the final one, as it's the most atrociously difficult movement to play, but also my favorite.

Rautavaara: Piano concerto no 1 - 1st movement