Author: Zach Carstensen

It seemed appropriate that on a cold night in Seattle, with the longest day of the year coming soon, the Finnish pianist Antii Siirala would be in town for a piano recital at the University of Washington. The recital was the second in the President’s Piano Series.

Siirala, a young, not quite thirty year old pianist, was preceded by a personal message from Finland’s Seattle consulate. The consulate mused about Finland, independence from Russia, and of course Sibelius.  As you would expect, Sibelius was well represented on the program.  Sibelius’ piano music is plentiful but is overshadowed by his popular symphonies and tone poems. However, the Finish composer Kaija Saariaho also figured into the evening’s program.  An absence of Finland’s greatest composer and FInland’s most promising composer from a performance by a Finnish pianist would have been unexplainable. 

Sibelius and Saariaho represent Finnish music at its best. Sibelius’ music is steeped in the nationalism and folklore of Finland. By contrast, Saariaho’s music charts the future of classical music. Closely affiliated with Pierre Boulez’s IRCAM in Paris, Saariaho’s music often deploys electronic sounds and other scientific techniques. While Saariaho’s music might seem sterile it isn’t. Her sound world is shimmering and ethereal. 

Siirala used Sibelius and Saariaho to fill the center of a program bookended by Beethoven’s Op.109 Sonata and Chopin’s Twenty-four Preludes.

Siirala captured the organic beauty of Saariaho’s Ballade. Saariaho’s own comments about the work provide insight. She says “In this short piece I wanted to write music with a melody that grows out of the texture before descending into it again; a work that constantly shifts from a complex multi-layered texture to concentrated single lines and back again.” Siirala’s approach was unforced. The music unfolded naturally under his fingers. He conveyed the work’s driving intensity while also underscoring it’s brittleness.

From Saariaho, the pianist transitioned beautifully, without interruption, to four works for piano by Jean Sibelius. The absence of a break, united Saariaho’s Ballade with Sibelius’ Reverie Op.58 No.1; Scherzino Op.58, No.2; Romance

Op.24, No.2; and a piano transcription of the popular Finlandia.

He gave Finlandia a bold performance. For me, the appeal of the orchestral version of Finlandia is the contrasts between different sections of the orchestra. Siirala’s performance was dramatic, capturing the struggle and triumph of the Fins against the Russians. Siirala filled out his performance of the work with plenty of color and contrast. 

After a break, Siirala came back and performed Chopin’s Twenty-four Preludes. Chopin’s Preludes are one of the finest collections of romantic piano music ever composed. Like the Sibelius and Saariaho pieces in the first half, the preludes are atmospheric pieces. There is a prelude for each key. The preludes conjure up different sensations ranging from melancholy to joy.

Like the composer’s etudes, the preludes are a test of a pianist’s virtuosity. They challenge the dexterity and skill of even the most accomplished pianists. But, unlike the etudes, the preludes are highly emotional. Being able to perform the preludes with technical brilliance and emotional honesty is no easy accomplishment. Siirala made the feat look and sound easy.

Tuesday’s program accentuated Siirala’s ability to explain sometimes abstract musical material with uncompromising technique and a keen appreciation of beauty, emotion and interpretation. Even the Beethoven sonata, which adheres to traditional forms (sonata allegro, scherzo, and theme and variation) is possessed with an indescribable beauty. Siirala’s upward advance through the classical ranks seems undeniable. On a cold, dark night in Seattle, the audience got to hear a young pianist on the rise.

While you could hear two all Brahms concerts at Benaroya Hall this weekend, more adventurous ears might prefer hearing Los Angeles’ Motoko Honda  and Seattle’s Tiffany Lin perform a concert of works for four hands and a new piece for toy piano and melodica arranged for boom box.  The concert is happening this Saturday, 8:00 p.m. at the Good Shepard Center/Chapel Performance Space.   

The program mixes the old with the new. Debussy’s magical impressionistic writing is juxtaposed next to George Crumb’s sometimes percussive Celestial Mechanics. According to Crumb’s website:

“I had long been tempted to try my hand at the four-hand medium, perhaps because I myself have been a passionate four-hand player over the years. The best of the original four-hand music — which includes, of course, those many superb works by Mozart, Schubert, and Brahms — occupies a very special niche in the literature of music.”

Schubert, Brahms and Mozart may have served as Crumb’s foundation, but the composer builds on what has come before with an atmospheric work inspired by four stars with a title borrowed from a French mathematician.

Also on the program is Gyorgy Kurtag’s Jatekok “Games.” Jatekok is a series of on going miniatures, some for piano duo. In the work, Kurtag pays homage to his friends and composers who have preceded him, J.S. Bach among them. The work may be best compared to Bartok’s on set of miniatures Mikrokosmos. The collection of miniatures travels through diverse territory. Some are accessible and lyrical others are rough.

Motoko Honda, one of the two pianists performing on Saturday evening, was born in Japan and began playing the piano at the age of four. When she was eleven, Honda was discovered by Tokiwa Ishibashi and became one of Ms. Ishibashi’s pupils.

Honda went on to receive degrees from Bethany College and the California Institute of Arts. Honda is the founding member of the Los Angeles Piano Unit and is active in the Sound Escape Project.

On her first trip to Seattle, Honda described her thoughts on Saturday’s program and what concertgoers can expect when they hear the duo play.

Zach Carstensen: What do you think about Seattle’s new and experimental music scene?

Motoko Honda: To be honest, I don’t know much since this is my first visit. But I have known great musicians in the area, and I have always wanted to work together with them. So I am very happy and excited that it is finally happening, thanks to my friend Tiffany Lin. I am also very thankful to Chapel Performance Space to give us the opportunity. I know that is always a hard work to keep a space that supports new, experimental, and creative music scene. I am hoping to visit Seattle more often to collaborate with musicians, and to invite them to perform with me here in LA.

ZC: At your concert this Saturday you are performing works for four hands with Tiffany Lin, how did you and Tiffany meet?

MH: I met Tiffany when I went to CalArts-California Institute of the Arts for my MFA. Tiffany was doing BFA in the same Piano and Multi Keyboard Performance Program. I think we both were always the curious and mischievous ones, so we connected on that level.

ZC: Other than Saturday’s concert, what other projects are the two of you working on?

MH: We are planning to perform same programs in different cities in United States, also are going to start working on more contemporary work and commission new pieces with piano in a non-standard approach; prepared, electronics, extended techniques and more. I also am planning to compose music for both of us.

ZC: Speaking of Saturday’s concert, what’s on the program?

MH: “Getting Together with Sticky Labels” is the title of the concert because we have to use lots of them. Except Hungarian Folk Song, everything else is works for 4 hands on 1 piano.

• Six Épigraphes Antiques: Claude Debussy
• Játékok (Games) for four hands: György Kurtág
• Hungarian Folk Song for Toy Piano and Melodica: Arranged by Ferenc Farkas and Tiffany Lin
• Celestial Mechanics, from Makrokosmos Cycle: George Crumb

ZC: One of the pieces is a work for toy piano and boombox, can you say a little something about the piece?

MH: We planned to have something commissioned, but it didn’t work out this time. So we are doing a Hungarian Folk Song, which was originally arranged by Ferenc Farkas for toy piano and melodica. Tiffany arranged it once to toy piano, melodica and boom box, now we’re going to play adaptation of that. Complicated, but fun.

ZC: As a performer, why are you attracted to composers like George Crumb and Gyorgy Kurtag?

MH: When I grew up, I wasn’t supposed to touch the inside of the piano, nor was I supposed to play with my palms and elbows. It was a long journey for me to accept the music I play now. But I still remember the thrill and the fear of reaching into the piano, and excitement to discover that it was always what I was meant to do. Composers like Crumb and Kurtag really turn this playful approach to the piano into an art. Their compositions and indications are precise for the specific effect, and it is exciting to face such demanding, yet playful music, which still keep all of us wondering.

ZC: Where do you think contemporary and experimental music fits in today’s classical music world?

MH: The more I study and perform contemporary and experimental music, the more I don’t see the difference with classical music. It is all new yet all old and done. I hope it fits right in the middle! Once I was asked to give a very contemporary solo performance at wedding when everybody would expect to hear a beautiful classical works. People actually had to listen to me for more than thirty minutes! But people stopped talking, started to listen to dots and spots of notes, silences, it was a beautiful experience. Most of people had never heard such music and they told me, but somehow it was a perfect music for that day. I love creating a concert that challenges audiences to go beyond these boundaries.

ZC: What would you tell someone who has never heard a piece by George Crumb or, for that matter, never heard music composed for toy piano, to expect if they came to your concert?

MH: Be open-minded. Forget all what you think or taught how music should sounds like. “We” are the music after all. Let your body and heart sink into the sounds, be curious, be anxious, and be imaginative. Relax. Music always happens only once. Whatever you feel is true; so let yourself discover the world of music.

By all accounts, pianist Yevgeny Sudbin cuts an unassuming figure. He is  definitely not in the mold of the dominating Russian pianists (and personalities) who have come before him. Though he is cautious of praise, Sudbin has been hailed by critics as an artist who has the potential to be one of the greatest pianists of the 21^st century. Other critics have described the young pianist as having “fingers of steel and a heart of gold.”

Sudbin’s considerable talents may have been lost to the classical music world and the public had his parents not indulged their son’s desire to play the piano. In a 2005 interview with the Daily Telegraph he recalled how he ultimately ended up playing piano.

“Both of my parents are pianists and I grew up hearing them practicing. I really wanted to play. When I was about four or five I was sitting improvising and my mother noticed that I had perfect pitch. She took me to a music teacher and I made rapid progress. I auditioned for the specialist music school in St. Petersburg and was accepted, and from there things went quickly.”

Sudbin participated in his first international competition by the time he was ten, but quickly found himself adapting to new surroundings after his parents fled the Soviet Union for Berlin in 1990.

Fortunately, not even the confines of a refugee shelter could keep the Sudbin from playing the piano. Word spread about the young prodigy and through the generosity of strangers, a piano, albeit a piano in poor condition, appeared for the young artist to use.

Yevgeny Sudbin’s first album, a collection of Scarlatti keyboard sonatas gives indication as to his view of the piano repertoire and why critics have been so want to shower him with praise. “With Scarlatti you could end up just playing the notes” he recounted in an interview with Piano. “I started off being very experimental, but my teacher thought it was over the top.”

In the eyes of critics, Sudbin’s willingness to take chances with the music, in a way challenging the music itself, has imbued his performances with a freshness and spontaneity that some might say is lacking among today’s crop of pianists.

The freshness in his playing, especially as captured on his disk of Tchaikovsky”s and Medtner’s first piano concerto and his recording of the Rachmaninoff second sonata (the two albums I own), are immediately likable. His playing has a distinct improvised feel. Some may prefer a more sterile approach, but I prefer being surprised and even astonished. While other recordings are only good for a listen or two, both albums are regularly in rotation on my iPod.

The Rachmaninoff is nothing short of dynamic. For the recording, Sudbin uses Vladamir Horowitz’s recording of the second sonata. Listening to this fine album and hearing his imaginative account, I get the feeling he is doing more than just playing the notes of the piece but is actively reassessing and even rediscovering the music on the fly.

Sudbin doesn’t stop with the music, the pianist has developed a knack for compiling his own booklet notes. This work he says “brings me closer to the music and I have a chance to study his music away from the keyboard.”
Tomorrow evening, Seattle will get to hear why much of the classical music world has taken such a liking to Yevgeny Sudbin.

A quick post before I take off for D.C.  The Seattle Symphony is continuing its collaboration with the Triple Door.  The Triple Door is juxtaposed next to the Seattle Symphony’s home, Benaroya Hall.  The partnership has developed over the last few years.  The club is one of the regular haunts of the Symphony’s 20’s and 30’s patron group.  Its also conveniently juxtaposed next to Benaroya Hall (the Seattle Symphony’s home). 

On the program – Mendelssohn and Bach (at least). 

As most orchestras struggle with attendance and the demographics of their audience, taking classical music into foreign spaces makes sense.  The Seattle Symphony’s principal cellist thinks so too.

Of course, he’s not the only one.  Cellist Matt Haimovitz, has similar thoughts also.  What is it with these cellists?

I have mixed feelings about efforts to take music to where the people are.  On the one hand I think they are great.  People who wouldn’t ordinarily listen to classical music have a chance to hear some really great music in a place that doesn’t intimidate with formality. 

On the other hand, I worry that people who are hearing Mendelssohn’s Octet, in a jazz club, where the music is sometimes secondary to the activity and socializing in the club, won’t give classical music the attention it requires.  Pleasantness aside, should Mendelssohn and Bach be relegated to background music? 

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