Press Reviews
In a Weill Hall recital presented by New York Concert Artists and Associates, Kotaro Fukuma, who was born in Tokyo but now resides in Berlin, performed a beautifully varied program for a full house audience. The first half consisted of selections from Bach’s “Art of the Fugue” plus a work that was inspired by them: the Sonata No. 31 in A-flat Major, Op. 110 by Beethoven. The Beethoven has a fugal movement of its own, and Mr. Fukuma performed it–like the Bach–with great clarity of rhythmical articulation. Indeed, his technique is superb. I would have preferred a little more delineation of the fugal entrances—i.e. more dynamic contrast between the entrance and subsidiary counterpoint. There could also have been better phrasing in terms of showing the direction of the melodic line; for example, phrases beginning with a softer, lighter touch and ending with fuller climaxes.
In the second half, Fukuma confirmed his stellar technique with Liszt transcriptions. “Ab Irato” from “Grande Etude de Perfectionnement” was fantastic. “La Campanella” could have had more Romantic-period exaggeration of dynamics; like in earlier pieces, he needed to play with a more varying touch and bring more shape (crescendo and diminuendo phrasing) to the musical lines. He ended it brazenly and powerfully, however, with polished octaves that were as clean as a whistle. One became riveted by the music’s concluding dramatic intensity.
In Ligeti’s Book I Etudes (selections), Fukuma played with a wonderfully articulate left hand, and excellent all-around clarity of rhythm. In “Arc-en-Ciel”, he could have brought more dreaminess to the atmosphere. In general, more phrasing within the given dynamics and subtleties of color were missing, but his interpretation of “Automne a Varsovie” seemingly held the audience spellbound with its sudden flare-ups of high octane heat.
Sergei Liapounov’s music from the “Etudes d’execution transcendante”, Op. 11
displayed more of Fukuma’s technical strengths, with thunderous, blazing octaves. His encores (Chopin/Liszt: “Meine Freunden” and another Liapounov Etude) were equally impressive, as they were permeated with impeccable virtuosity. Come to think of it, he didn’t miss a note all evening.
Virtuoso pianists who perform their own works are part of a time-honored tradition, and in this bicentennial year of Liszt (not long after anniversaries of Schumann and Chopin) we are reminded of this fact. Among the new generation in this category, Quentin Kim (b. 1976) is undoubtedly among the standouts. A recital of works by Beethoven, Schumann, and Mr. Kim himself was a memorable and inspiring occasion. In reading Mr. Kim’s program notes, I was struck by his boldness in describing his own musical views in such a way that many colleagues might easily be offended. Starting with a quote by Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, currently Pope Benedict XVI, describing “modern so-called ‘classical’ music” as becoming “an elitist ghetto”, Mr. Kim ended his notes with a paean to “beautiful forms, beautiful sounds, beautiful colours” as a connection to Alfred Douglas’ “Supreme Beauty”. One needn’t agree with Mr. Kim’s philosophy to sense how he expresses in words a passion that translates into communicative compositions and committed performances of all that he plays. Whether or not one can embrace the 19th century-inspired tonal and stylistic aesthetic that permeates Mr. Kim’s own Sonata in G-sharp Minor—which bears strong kinship to Schumann—his sincerity is palpable. Amid the obfuscation one often finds in descriptions of new works (and sometimes in the works themselves), Mr. Kim’s writing, like his playing, is refreshingly direct. The listener was invited into the music every step of the way.
Along with elements of Schumann (inevitable, perhaps, for a pianist who has been so immersed in that composer), Mr. Kim’s Sonata showed hints of Scriabin, underscored by some colorful titles of movements such as “Resigning Sun” and “Shooting Star.” One expects that a thoughtful musician such as Mr. Kim will be led by his own words and excellent imagination into an even wider harmonic and textural range over time.
If it can be said that Mr. Kim composes like a pianist, it is certain that he performs like a composer—one with unusually fine pianistic gifts. His complete grasp of the inner workings made the opening half, Schumann’s Sonata, Op. 11 in F-sharp minor, a marvel of shape, phrasing, and articulation, each harmonic nuance being expressed as if he himself had composed the work. Matching the intellectual, emotional, and digital range was a stunning conception of sound, especially in the slow movement, but also evident in the fourth. If the Aria had had a tone any headier or more sensuous, it would need to be treated as a controlled substance. Strangely this work has never been one of my favorites of Schumann’s, but I’ll need to rethink it. In this performance, it sounded completely new, modern in the best sense of the word, as if freshly created.
Closing the program was Beethoven’s Sonata Op. 57, in F minor (“Appassionata”). It was an excellent performance as well, though I’m perhaps partial to greater abandon in it and a bit more fullness of sound at times. After the rest of the demanding program, however, it was a feat for Mr. Kim to convey so much power.
The audience expressed their thanks and awe with an enthusiastic ovation, and was rewardedwith a quiet encore of Bach’s beautiful Largo (Arioso) from BWV 1056. I will definitely look forward to hearing Mr. Kim again in both his compositions and performances.
Word must be spreading about the musical feasts presented by New York Concert Artists & Associates, as their audiences seem to be growing from concert to concert. Under the artistic direction of Klara Min, the musical fare seems to be growing in scope as well. A recent evening featuring four big piano concerti included a work that is rarely performed live, the Vaughan Williams Piano Concerto in C (1926, first two movements, and finished in 1931). Having heard the excellent new recording of it played by Ashley Wass (also recorded twice by Howard Shelley), I had recently been wondering why the piece is so overlooked; granted, it is fiercely difficult and sprawling, with a quiet ending that elicits a hush rather than an explosive ovation, but its treasures are many. Excellent pianist Yoojin Oh found these treasures, and they were stunning. Ravelian swirls of color, expressive cadenzas, bold percussive statements, and a well-controlled fugue all sounded as if the pianist had performed this piece for years (though she was using the score). Ms. Oh has considerable credentials, so hopefully she will parlay them into further performances of this unfairly neglected gem. I for one would want to hear it again.
Many in the audience seemed at least as excited to hear what followed, Rachmaninoff’s much beloved Piano Concerto No. 2 played by Raymond H. T. Wong. A student at the Manhattan School of Music, Mr. Wong gave his New York debut in 2009 and has a good number of awards, performances, and scholarships to his credit. His playing showed considerable youthful fire and moments of real artistry. Occasionally his impulsiveness got the better of him, and the second movement could have felt freer, but a piece with such a rich performance history presents a very high bar. All in all, it was a commendable performance that brought Mr. Wong’s very enthusiastic audience to its feet.
After intermission, came more Rachmaninoff: this time, his Piano Concerto No. 1 played by Yumi Sato. Ms. Sato, currently studying in Europe, has also won numerous prizes, and understandably so. She gave a highly polished performance. Precision, clarity, and thoughtful pacing characterized her playing. Occasionally one wanted less of a sense of “dispatch” and perhaps more breathing at phrase ends, but adrenaline runs high on such occasions. In any case, her fingers never failed her. Her collaboration with the orchestra was also to be admired.
The evening’s finale was Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No. 1 played by Anastasia Dedik, the winner of NYCA’s first International Concerto Competition (2010). Ms. Dedik’s biography lists numerous concerts and competition prizes, including the one that resulted in this performance. She delivered a strong, muscular account of the work, nearly flawless in the octaves and difficult passages. Occasionally her sound may have been a shade too big, such as where she outweighed the cello a bit (second movement), but she is clearly ready to take this piece “on the road.” The last movement should be a notch slower so the Cossack dance does not become a blur, but all in all it was a rousing finish to a memorable evening. Eduard Zilberkant conducted superbly throughout, his experience as a pianist undoubtedly lending him extra sensitivity to the soloists. The orchestral personnel were not listed; a shame considering some fine individual performances.
