Questions with Quinnuance - A Preview

The 'Living With Young Composers' series at The Arts House of 2011 and 2012 have gained so much success that the composers at the core of it have decided to band together (no pun intended) with a theme for this year's concert. Plink, Plonk, Plunk catches up with De Silva Alicia Joyce to find out more.

Hello! You've got a (very cool-sounding) name for your quintet. How did this come about?

Generally, the name of our group is a combination of two words: Quintet and Nuances. Quintet to represent the five of us and Nuances to reflect our own unique sound palette and composition styles. 

This concert's theme is "looking deep into my roots" - did you all compose works around this theme or find a theme to suit your compositions? 

When we were planning the concert, we did not intend to have a theme. However, one of our members, Ernest, shared his some of his ideas with us and one of the lines he mentioned was to a similar effect as the current theme, "Looking Deep Into My Roots." And Bernard thought this might make sense to have a theme. Also, it would give a different perspective to our concert, after all, the past two had no theme. So to cut the long story short, we were all writing music around the theme.

Looking back at the last two concerts of 2011 and 2012, how is this one going to be different (both individually and as a collective)? 

As we are generally writing music around the theme, I believe, to some extent this concern will be more personal than the last two. How personal? Well, that's up to the audience to find out when they come attend our concert! However, this is just my opinion and the others may not share the same thoughts as I do. But that's the beauty isn't it? Five unique individuals, coming together to explore one theme!
And.. What would you get? Come find out!

---

Catch Quinnuance and their fellow musicians at The Arts House on Thursday, the 23rd of May at 8pm!  Tickets at $18, email themusicourworks@gmail.com for enquiries. Like their Facebook page here: https://www.facebook.com/Quinnuance

A religious procession, spinning wheels, and some thoughts.

Had the twelfth piano lesson with my teacher today, and he still manages to throw me off-balance with the things he says. As we worked through Janáček's 'The Holy Virgin of Frydek' from On an Overgrown Path, I asked how the middle section should be played. Although marked Un poco più mosso, virtually all recordings I've heard speed up so much that sounds as it is marked molto più veloce!

"Your held notes have an impatience to them," he remarked. After looking at the score and trying it out a few times, he tapped out a tempo for me on the keyboard which was literally un poco faster compared to the beginning tempo. "No rushing, don't lose the sense of 6 beats in a bar. It's supposed to be a religious procession, for goodness' sake!"

At the new tempo, it was as though the gravity of the harmonies came through. "Pay attention to the dynamics.. Then this bar here, with the wrong number of notes, play it like you're hysterical and shouting." Suddenly the weight of the music could be felt. Oh, wow.

Having performed Beethoven's Tempest sonata before in performance class and received comments that it was too polite and nice, I decided to take the third movement with a more desperate and manic approach, as if someone was riding on horseback on a windy, tempestuous night, longing for home.
It didn't work. "It should be like that, continuous, moving on and on," he suggested, playing the opening bars of Schubert-Liszt's Gretchen am Spinnrade and then turning it back into Beethoven.



So much to work on, so little time. How time flies; this is the last week of class in the academic year. No more MMus classes left, just an Italian oral exam and dissertation to submit in September. It's been an incredible year of reading, learning, practicing. I came here thinking that I was not good enough to perform (my degree is, after all, in oboe performance) and expected to only do academic work. Things took a strange turn; I've found practicing and piano performance more enjoyable than anything else that I'm considering practice-based research for a PhD in future.

I've learnt to be a better cook too, and met people whom I hope never to lose.

The month of May looks exciting - an exam, the Leeds Half Marathon, a trip to London, a Wagner conference and more!

May the 4th be with you all, happy Star Wars day :)

ps. If you're wondering why I'm picking up the Tempest sonata again, watch this space!

British Brilliance - A different type of virtuosity

Daniel Gordon, piano
1305hrs
Clothworkers Centenary Concert Hall,
University of Leeds

One of the last few concerts of the Concert Series 2012/13 was a piano recital by Daniel Gordon, a piano accompanist, examiner and senior teaching staff at our university. I've always been amazed at his ability to play difficult accompaniments at sight, his sensitivity in following the soloist while sight-reading, and skill of page-turning all at the same time!

Titling his recital 'Britain as a pasture and refuge?', he paid tribute to post-second world war composers who had enriched the musical life of Britain. A large part of the concert was devoted to works by Alan Richardson, whose unpublished works were recently discovered in the Library of the Royal Academy of Music.

Barely settling down at the piano, he launched into the tumultuous Study no. 1 by Kenneth Leighton. This was somewhat reminiscent of a Chopin or Liszt étude where the melody is hidden under a mountain of running notes, but had darker overtones. Leighton's Five Studies (Op.22) were heavy, textural works, difficult for both performer and audience. Gordon had interspersed these among the more audience-friendly compositions by Richardson, Franz Reizenstein, Hans G'al and Berthold Goldschmidt to make for a well-balanced programme. Following the Leighton was Reizenstein's Prelude and Fugue in A. The bright, sparkly colours of the Steinway was varied with its mellowed tones of Richardson's Pastoral Sketch by Gordon's masterful control of the instrument.

Allowing a slight moment for applause, he then launched into Leighton's Study no. 2, which had a tinge of Debussy's influence. The common thread among all the works was not only the 'Englishness' in the harmonies, but the pushing of tonal boundaries into near atonality. Richardson's Sonata after Paganini was a paraphrase of Paganini's Op. 3 No. 6 for violin and guitar. If at all possible, Richardson made the piece sound like Paginini had been living in the English countryside among green pastures and gambolling lambs! Instead of the original E minor, the Andante was in the key of C# minor, giving it a graver and more melancholic disposition. It also provided for greater contrast in the sunny E major Allegro section which followed. Although virtuosity was needed for this work, it was not a case for virtuosity for its own sake. Gordon chose a slower tempo for the Andante, revelling in its lush romantic harmonies; and the starting of the Allegro too, giving it a pastoral feel before the later dazzling display of virtuosity.

Goldschmidt's Capriccio was an eclectic mix of folk dance (think marionette puppet dance!) and love song, lyricism and spikiness coexisting together before disappearing into thin air. Another study by Leighton, then the Fugue in F minor, a little piece by Hans G'al from his 24 Fugues.

Gordon then showed off his improvisational abilities in the next piece, which he called 'Dreaming of the Ark', based on selected compositional themes from Joseph Horovitz's choral piece 'Captain Noah and His Floating Zoo'. One of the melodic fragments brought to mind the third movement of Poulenc's concerto for 2 pianos, only greatly slowed down and made into a dreamy, floaty tune! The Rhapsodic Study by Richardson which followed was passionate and intense, played with vivid changes of mood and colour. The next study, No. 4 by Leighton differed from the rest in that it was much slower and more contemplative. Gordon turned it into a delicate, introspective performance, shading the dissonances and somehow making sense of it all.

The recital concluded with Richardson's Memento and the Study No. 5 by Leighton.
Memento, a little nostalgic piece which encompassed the light and lyrical, was made exquisitely memorable by the skilful use of rubato. Richardson had apparently used the title "Memento" for other works as well, and it seemed to represent for him, snapshots of passing moments. The Leighton study proved a loud and impressive climax to what was overall a highly interesting concert, eliciting whoops and cheers from the audience! :)

Russian Resplendence - A Review

1930hrs
13 April 2013
Leeds Town Hall

Featuring the great Russian works of Mussorgsky, Prokofiev, and Tchaikovsky -- and conducted by a Russian guest conductor too --  the programme itself was a sure crowd-puller. The only question was, how would an English orchestra play this programme?

Conductor Mikhail Jurowski made his way onstage with two sticks he depended very much on - a walking stick and a baton. A flick of the wrist, and the Orchestra of Opera North was off at breakneck speed; the high winds playing trills and a tri-tone motif over screeching strings and stormy percussion. Sounding stark and primitive, they conjured the ominous setting of a witches' gathering, which built up to the frenzied dans macabre and simmered to a peaceful close in Rimsky-Korsakov's 1886 arrangement of Mussorgsky's Night on Bare Mountain.

Continuing on from the pounding rhythms of Mussorgsky was Prokofiev's third piano concerto, the most popular and critically acclaimed out of the five which he had written. 23-year old Jiayan Sun returned to Leeds for this performance, having won the third prize in the Leeds International Piano Competition last year with his rendition of Prokofiev's second piano concerto. He had a dignified air about him as he took a bow and readied himself at the piano; very different from the nervous-looking and almost impatient competitor at the competition last September. The aggression had also been refined into a steely resolve, and he combined flawless technique with utmost control, shading different tone colours and bringing out melodies hidden within the copious amount of notes he had to play. The role of the orchestra in this concerto was not mere accompaniment but a participant in its own right, and at times even a 'duelling partner', especially in the third movement. There was a moment of slight asynchrony in the third movement, but it was dazzling all the same.


Tchaikovsky's fifth symphony is similar to Beethoven's fifth symphony in that both begin in a minor key, deal with the subject of fate, and end triumphantly in a major key. The beauty of this symphony lies in the intimate inner movements -- a heartfelt horn call that is a love song, later joined by the clarinet in a tender duet, and the waltz reminiscent of a pastorale scene -- which in turn, give the outer movements their exuberance. As always, the musicians were given the space to express themselves during solos (which they did exquisitely, shaping every phrase), before ending with a truly spectacular finale.

On great works, great pianists, and a great number of things to do! - Interview with Kenneth Hamilton

It's slightly over two weeks to the Romantic Masterpieces! Plink, Plonk, Plunk catches up with virtuoso pianist and professor Kenneth Hamilton in an exclusive email interview ahead of his recital on the 7th of April in Singapore. 

Charles Valentin Alkan
(1813 - 1888)

This year we celebrate the bicentenary of Alkan, a contemporary and close friend of Liszt and Chopin. Alkan was known to be a recluse and eccentric, yet was admired by many, including Busoni, who said his pieces were “the greatest achievement in piano music after Liszt”. Yet the music of Chopin and Liszt remain more popular than Alkan’s. Why do you think this is so?  

I think there are three main reasons.

Firstly, Alkan’s best music tends to be his most difficult and challenging—almost inordinately difficult in some cases, such as the op.39 studies. Many fine pieces are therefore completely inaccessible to amateurs, and relatively rarely played even by professionals. The amount of effort needed to learn works like the concerto or symphony for solo piano completely dwarfs that required for most “normal” concertos or sonatas.

Secondly, Alkan rarely composes big “Romantic” melodies, although he does write extremely powerful music. His original tunes tend to be quirky rather than captivating. There isn’t an Alkan equivalent of the Chopin op.9 no.2 nocturne, for example, or the Liszt 3rd Liebestraum, even if there are several charming shorter pieces.

And finally, although a supposedly a superb pianist himself, Alkan never pushed his own music very much during his lifetime, nor did he have a string of successful students—as Liszt did-- who would popularize his music with succeeding generations. So, all in all, a rather unfortunate set of circumstances!

Liszt had greatly influenced musical life – inventing the piano recital, masterclasses and concert habits – with his dazzling pianistic acrobatics. What is it that draws you to Liszt, the virtuoso, the composer or the paradoxical life he led?  

Liszt,  the most Byronic, dynamic, charming
figure in music at that time. 

It’s the paradoxes that are the most fascinating elements. Liszt’s compositions might at times be histrionic or uneven, but they are virtually never dull. His music is fascinating even when it doesn’t quite work, or when you wish he really hadn’t written a certain bar or two. Wagner had it entirely right when he said that Liszt’s music was “all interesting, even when it’s not important”. And this variety was obviously part of his personality too. He was a man of unusually extreme contradictions, a mixture of serial adulterer and would-be priest, for instance. But then, contradictions are interesting, whereas uniformity is predictable—and therefore boring.

Which are his greatest works for you and which do you enjoy performing? 

The Sonata in B minor is certainly his single finest work, and I never tire of playing that piece. Overall, Liszt knew very well what his best “original” pieces were, and accordingly included them in prestige collections like the three “Years of Pilgrimage”. But in fact, the Hungarian Rhapsodies and opera fantasies are also works of genius in their own way, for Liszt was, without a doubt, the greatest “arranger” in the history of music. As Schumann wrote—when arrangement gets this good, it’s indistinguishable from original composition. And we can play our way through virtually the entire history of 19th century music in Liszt’s arrangements. That’s one of the most fascinating things for me—Liszt’s role as a “tour guide” through the century. The transcriptions are, quite simply, wonderful pieces to play.

How about Chopin’s?

Almost every piece Chopin published is a “great” work. His quality control was more exacting than any other Romantic piano composer-- Liszt, Schumann, Alkan and all the rest not excluded. He didn’t spread himself anything like as widely as Liszt or Schumann—there are obviously no symphonies, nor oratorios, nor anything else for a wider stage-- but he did achieve perfection within his chosen domain. I personally find works like the Ballades the most intriguing of all. In structural terms they’re utterly new, but unfold so convincingly that you hardly even notice. Mendelssohn also had this instinct for the “completely right”, but rarely had Chopin’s daring, or indeed his passion, except in one or two instances, like the glorious Hebrides Overture.

Schnabel taught that transcriptions are of value in their own right, and believed that the performer should not try to imitate the tone colours of the original instruments; but be more concerned with preserving the identity of the piece in its new dress. Do you take a more pianistic approach towards transcriptions or would you rather think that you're in control of a huge symphonic orchestra? 

I agree that transcriptions are of value in their own right, but disagree with the second part of the statement. One needs to think orchestrally, and also of singing-- that spurs the imagination to create a greater variety of tone colours, and ironically to get the most out of the piano itself. Even in music originally written for the piano, I'm always thinking "What instrument would play this passage if it were given to the orchestra? What would the scoring be? How would the melody be sung?". That's my attitude, for what it's worth.

You’ve learnt from Lawrence Glover and Ronald Stevenson (therefore tracing your teaching lineage back to Liszt and Busoni!), what type of influence did they have on your playing? 

Lawrence taught me self-control---or at least tried very hard to teach me self-control!--while Ronald taught, by example, many of the nuances of late 19th and early 20th century pianism. Both were superb players in their own right---Ronald, of course, still is--- and their best teaching was undertaken during their own performances. The student simply had to listen.

I especially remember Lawrence’s splendid performance of the Liszt Venezia e Napoli, with burnished Autmnal tone-colours and a virtuosity that was always kept short of the hyperbolic; and a genuinely amazing performance by Ronald of his own Passacaglia on DSCH. That really did sound like Liszt revived. You couldn’t help learning from such things.

How do you juggle being a performer and academic, having to practice, memorize music, teach classes and write? 

With difficulty. I try not to think about it too much—otherwise I’ll realize that I really can’t do it!

What do you think of the term “serious” used to describe classical music and concerts nowadays?  

Well, I suppose the term has its uses in creating certain expectations, but too often “serious” simply means “not entertaining”. Basically, there’s good music and bad music; interesting music and dull music. The genre is irrelevant. Schubert and Schumann, Cole Porter and Ivor Novello are all great song composers—it doesn’t really matter whether you’re riding with the “Erlkönig” or “gathering lilacs". What ultimately matters is whether the composer has something to say.

Do you think concerts have the same importance today as they had before the invention of recordings and radio? 

No—they can’t possibly have. Before the middle of the 20th century—that is, before the invention of editable recording technology and the long-playing record—most music was live music. It couldn’t be anything else. The piano in the parlour was the CD player of the 19th century. Nowadays, most people listen to music through various recorded (and edited) media. We can’t turn back the clock here (King Canute couldn’t stop the waves), but we can simply embrace the consequences, among which is the fact that live concerts are now more “special” than they ever were before. As performers, we have to treat them as such, and ask ourselves what we’re giving the audience that they couldn’t get from a recording: whether that’s spontaneity, a “direct” contact with the music, artistic interaction between performer and audience or whatever. After all, rarity can in itself be a valuable commodity…
---

Here's a video of Professor Kenneth Hamilton playing Liszt's Sonata in B Minor, S.178, which he performed at Cardiff University earlier this month:



Don't miss this concert of Romantic Masterpieces, happening at the Esplanade Recital Studio at 1930hrs on the 7th of April! Tickets are priced at $32 and available from Sistic. Concessions available at $22 for students.

This concert is presented by Cardiff University.

Romantic Masterpieces - A Concert Preview

It is a rather rare occurrence when one comes across the words "performer" and "academic" used to describe a single person. Adding another description of "virtuoso" contradicts the blend even more; virtuosos are rarely academics and vice versa, because there are seemingly too few hours in a day to be able to be both. Unless one is like Professor Kenneth Hamilton.

Hailed as a 'formidable virtuoso'  in the national newspaper by Pianomaniac (possibly Singapore's authority on all things piano), Prof. Hamilton returns to Singapore once again, bringing with him yet another work to premiere - Alkan's virtually impossible Concerto for Solo Piano Op. 39 - this time in celebration of the French virtuoso's bicentenary.

He has also written numerous books, the most recent being After the Golden Age: Romantic Pianism and Modern Performance (2008), a witty, informative and entertaining book which looks into pianism and the transition from the spontaneous, almost rowdy concert atmospheres in the nineteenth century to the austere, 'funeral-like' concert traditions of later years.

Other works presented are Chopin's Sonata nr. 2 in B-flat minor and Liszt's dazzling transcription of Wagner's Tannhäuser Overture.

Don't miss this concert of Romantic Masterpieces, happening at the Esplanade Recital Studio at 1930hrs on the 7th of April! Tickets are priced at $32 and available from Sistic. Concessions available at $22 for students.

Stay tuned for an exclusive interview with Prof. Hamilton!

This concert is presented by Cardiff University.

"It [being a classical musician] is to be a member of a profession that is far greater than any individual. The masterworks of classical music are greater than any performance. Great works of art are timeless and eternal. Great music is a spiritual manifestation. Music is one of God's greatest gifts to the human family."

R.I.P, Van Cliburn (1934-2013).