Concert review archive 2007
Cocktail Hour Recital Series
Katie Zhukov, piano
6 July 2007
Recital Hall East
Sydney Conservatorium of Music
It was an evening in another dimension. The predominantly Romantic repertoire and the fluidity with which Zhukov’s fingers moved across the keys allowed a spell to be cast: a spell as much brought about by silence as by the dulcet tones of the Steinway piano.
Beethoven’s “Pathetique” Sonata had an overall smooth technical finish, and the contemplative beauty of the second movement was mesmerising. But in certain passages in the outer movements some clarity was lost, possibly due to overenthusiastic use of pedal. I also felt that Zhukov could have brought out more passion in places: although the sonata is still part of Beethoven’s early output and clearly belongs to Viennese Classicism, it contains depths so powerful that it harbingers the Romantic Era. That aside, the few brief moments of suspended silence were full of unspoken emotion.
The name Un Sospiro literally means “a sigh” in Italian: if Liszt’s concert etude were programme music depicting just that it could hardly have been more aptly named. Zhukov’s interpretation evoked images of the sea glinting in the sun, painted in a wide range of tone colours; the contrast between the pellucid calm and the more turbulent themes was well brought out.
Brahms wrote in a letter to a friend that his Three Intermezzi, Op. 117, were “lullabies of my sorrow”, a comment that explains the yearning quality of the music. The speculation that the intermezzi have something akin to Scottish balladry seems sound: they were by turns brooding, mysterious, dramatic, and even hypnotic, proving a hybrid feast for the ear. Rachmaninov was also honoured in Zhukov’s rendition of three of his preludes. Overall, it was a magical concert, triumphant in its choice of repertoire and performed with grace.
ACO2
20 August 2007
Verbrugghen Hall
Sydney Conservatorium of Music
It was a night of mixed delights. Members of the ACO were joined by younger performers from the ACO’s prestigious professional development programme to form the ACO2, a sparkling, swaying ensemble. The Baroque-encrusted, Classico-Romantic-centred repertoire was brought to life with the crisp, innovative sound so characteristic of the ACO. Many of the young performers showed themselves to be budding equals of their mentors, showing the ACO2’s aims to be justified.
Vivaldi’s Concerto for Four Violins in B Minor (Op. 3, No. 10) was magnificent. But the highlight of the night was formed by the Beethoven Op. 18 string quartets. Graceful, elegant, and sophisticated, the music shimmered through the hall. Although I felt that the meditative passages could generally be deeper and more emotional beneath the surface, Beethoven’s great passion was brought across whilst still retaining the refined touch of Classicism. Technique was generally fluid and clear, and the balance pleasing. Although there were several places where intonation between the instruments was not perfect and the music occasionally declined into something clinically precise but lacking colour, these were but specks of dust on otherwise polished performances.
Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto No. 3 was pleasant, with the oh-so-familiar tune given a beautiful, fresh sound. The lower strings were sometimes a bit foggy, causing some of the counterpoint to be unclear, but as a general rule the ensemble was well-balanced.
All in all it was a concert of tall stature: each piece on the programme was impressive. Nevertheless, I found the way the violins and violas swayed to and fro whenever they were standing extremely distracting. The movement was so excessive that they reminded me of chaotic strands of seaweed being pushed and pulled by a strong underwater current. But to each his own. Given the overall superior quality of the concert, this aesthetic setback was negligible.
Conductor’s Series
Early Music Ensemble
Neal Peres Da Costa, Director
September 1 2007
Verbrugghen Hall
Sydney Conservatorium of Music
This concert masterfully took its audience on a timetravelling expedition to Baroque times via the most beautiful and touching strains of early music ever to be heard. Da Costa’s directorship was sprightly and the use of period instruments added a kind of antique zest to the music. Stylistically it was a treat: one could really imagine oneself in Baroque Germany with the great musicians of the time.
We began in the 17th century with a visit to a predecessor of Bach, the renowned German composer Dietrich Buxtehude. His Adventskantate Ihr lieben Christen, freut euch nun was divinely moving; the instrumentalists were joined by five singers who could have been angels for how they sang. My only quibble was that the bass’s rich deep voice could have been projected more: his beautiful part was sometimes indistinguishable from the accompaniment behind him.
Telemann’s Concerto in D major for Four Violins evinced faultless ensemble skills from the performers, who worked as one mechanism as sparkling, canon-like motifs were passed from one part to the other. Pachelbel’s Canon and Gigue in D Major was overall good although not the strongest performance of the evening: I felt the Canon was a bit flat and didn’t hold the audience’s attention, although this was somewhat recompensed by the lively Gigue.
Bach’s Das Musikalisches Opfer was truly a testimony to the composer’s contrapuntal and harmonic genius; the wide range of canons and ricercars all on the same cantus firmus were stunningly brought out by the performers. The contrapuntal lines were clear and the delicate harmonic textures skilfully brought to life. Pachelbel’s Suite in G Major for Violin, Two Violas and Continuo was harmonically akin to a Lindt hot chocolate, the adagios rich and sonorous whilst the dance movements were merry and jovial. Overall the musicians displayed confidence and musicality; if another chance to timetravel with the Early Music Ensemble should present itself, I would not hesitate to step on board.
Grainger Quartet
September 6, 2007
Recital Hall West
Sydney Conservatorium of Music
On going to a Grainger Quartet concert one expects a polished performance, glinting with virtuosity, the four players creating a well-balanced whole; this concert was no exception to the rule. The Quartet’s playing was technically refined and sparkled with life, evincing the clear, energetic sound that wins over countless audiences.
The complete Haydn Op. 54 No. 2 String Quartet was full of contrast, and the manifold textures were brought out magnificently. The different musical characters of the piece were crystal clear: the spring voices of the first movement, the mournful poetry of the second, the strained, anguished emotion of the third, and the contemplative beauty of the fourth were all readily distinguishable. The glorious counterpoint between the first violin and cello in the fourth movement was clear and iridescent.
The Graingers also played the first movement of Beethoven’s “Harp” Quartet. Like the first movement of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 1, it does not begin on the tonic: the tension created by this “false start” was brought out with clarity and focus. The melodic and rhythmic currents driving the work were apparent and tangible, and the moments of suspense left the audience breathless. The pizzicato motif that pervades each of the four parts was passed seamlessly between the players, so much so that it sounded as though it were played on one instrument. It was a marvellous performance: even when the music settled down in the coda, the Quartet still carried across momentum and flow.
The only thing I felt was not perfection itself was the first violin’s tendency to steal the show. This was perhaps due to the nature of her part, which more often than not carried the melody and was generally the most virtuosic. Nevertheless, the other quartet members were equally deserving of attention and indeed praise, each possessing their own wonderful musicality and personality.
Cocktail Hour Recital Series – “The Cello in Paris”
Georg Pedersen (cello) and Natalia Sheludiakova (piano)
10 September 2007
Recital Hall West
Sydney Conservatorium of Music
Georg Pedersen is a performer of unlimited scope and, more importantly, a man with a big heart. The ability to speak from heart to heart, to touch listeners’ souls, is one possessed by few: Pedersen is one of them. The concert, showcasing the best of the French cello repertoire, was an incredible experience not only thanks to Pedersen’s masterful technique, projective sound and amazing stage presence, but because of the core of human emotion that he conveyed to the audience.
The programme consisted of Chopin’s G minor Sonata for Cello and Piano, Debussy’s Cello Sonata, Tortelier’s Au Spiraile and Le Pitre, Faure’s famous Elegie in C Minor, and two encores, de Falla’s Ritual Fire Dance and Faure’s After a Dream. Pedersen’s performance was convincing: the audience’s focus was maintained throughout. In Debussy’s Cello Sonata the music washed over the listener like languid waves on the seashore – Pedersen beautifully captured the spirit of Debussy’s dream-like soundscapes as well as the different sound characters in the piece. The contrasting modernity of the compositions of Pedersen’s teacher, Tortelier, balanced it well: the performance was intimidatingly precise and hypnotic, with the incisive humour of Le Pitre (“The Clown”) skilfully portrayed.
But it was Faure’s Elegie that was the highlight of the evening. No other piece was so completely beyond words. Something even beyond music was present: the essence of the human condition, of suffering, of life and death was in the hall when Pedersen played those heart-wrenching strains of music. The vibrantly showy de Falla encore following it seemed rude and aggressive after such heart-felt sorrow.
In conclusion, the concert was a deeply moving experience; Pedersen is a great artist as well as a dedicated pedagogue, and his warmth of personality could not be too highly praised.
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