Edmonton Classical Music

A comprehensive calendar of classical music concerts being presented in Edmonton, Alberta, and reviews of those concerts.

Month: April 2017

Edmonton Symphony Orchestra: Estacio, Tchaikovsky, Popper, Prokofiev, Chopin, and Wagner

Edmonton Symphony Orchestra

Conducted by Alain Trudel
Dasol Kim (piano)
Rafael Hoekman (cello)

Winspear Centre, Edmonton
Sunday, April 23, 2017

Program:

John Estacio: Spring’s Promise – Orchestral Fanfare
Tchaikovsky: Variations on a Rococo Theme for cello and orchestra, Opus 33
Mussorgsky: Saint John’s Night on the Bare Mountain (Orchestrated by Nicolai Rimsky-Korsakov)
Prokofiev: Piano Concerto No. 1 in D-flat major, Opus 10
Chopin: Andante spianato et Grande polonaise brillante in E-flat major, Opus 22
Wagner: Prelude to Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg

Dasol Kim
photo: Christian Steiner

What better way to open a concert on a snowy, windy Sunday Edmonton afternoon, than with a work written in the depths of winter by an Edmonton composer looking forward to the blessings of spring?

John Estacio’s ‘Orchestral Fanfare’ Spring’s Promise, which opened the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra’s concert on Sunday, April 23, was just that – though it has to be said that on the same day in April 2004, the year it was written, the temperature in Edmonton was a balmy 19oC, not a snow-ridden -2 oC.

An enjoyable and atmospheric work it is, too, a kind of little orchestral showpiece rather than a fanfare, with a tinkling opening like the last of the snow sparkles, and an eventual movement towards the break out of a big tune (the dawn of spring) before the return of the opening. The tone is largely derivative rather than strongly personal – there are echoes of Respighi and Ravel’s Daphnis et Chloe, and the central brass fanfares reminded me of those in Britten’s War Requiem – but it is very neatly and clearly laid out, and the touch of having the wind and brass scattered around the Winspear added to the atmosphere and the spatial sense. It well deserved its hearing, and conductor Alain Trudel secured some crisp and enthusiastic playing for the orchestra.

It started what was, for a number of reasons, rather an odd-ball of a concert, if an enjoyable one. It was followed by the ESO’s principle cellist, Rafael Hoekman, making his debut as a soloist with the ESO with Tchaikovsky’s Variations on a Rococo Theme. I have to confess that I have tried, for decades, to like this celebrated work, but without success, but Hoekman half-persuaded me with his warm cello colours, though he could perhaps have allowed himself to be a little more expressive in what is quite an emotive work.

He then played an unusual encore with the orchestra that taxed all his virtuoso skills: David Popper’s Elfentanz, Opus 39. Popper was a late 19th-century Bohemian cellist and composer, who wrote a number of virtuoso cello works. The Dance of the Elves lived up to its name, with some fiendishly fast scurrying up and down the cello by the elvish bow (including quite a lot of very high playing). It is a kind of Fritz Kreisler showpiece for the cello, with the orchestra providing the hall-of-the-mountain-king landscape backdrop to the cello playing. Hoekman played it with enormous enthusiasm, rightly shared by the audience, and to considerable effect.

The first half ended with conductor Trudel – and the orchestra – shining in a fine performance of another Russian favourite, Rimsky-Korsakov’s orchestration of Mussorgsky’s Saint John’s Night on the Bare Mountain. It had really tight discipline and control, the shading of diminuendos and crescendos at the beginning particularly effective, and there was some notable clarinet playing.

The second half featured the Korean pianist Dasol Kim, winner of the 2015 Young Concert Artists International Auditions, among other competitions. He opened with Prokofiev’s marvelous, exuberant, youthful Piano Concerto No.1, whose plethora of notes might seem entirely suited to Kim’s technique. For that technique is staggering, every note absolutely perfect, the intervals between the notes metronomic, the runs immaculate, a kind of blueprint of the score on the keyboard. In fact, everything to bring the house down for those who want their pianists to be the equivalents of technically-perfect Olympic gymnasts.

The problem was that there are three kinds of great gymnasts: those who confound by their sheer technical perfection; those whose artistry is so spell-binding one forgives the occasional imperfection; and the all-so-rare Nadia Comănecis who manage to provide both. In pianist terms, Kim belongs to the first, and this is the only time I have heard this concerto live and been left cold. Prokofiev’s passion, fire, the enfant terrible winning the Rubenstein Prize playing this concerto as Glazunov walked out, hands over his ears – none of that was here, just picture-perfect note playing.

Two examples will suffice. At figure 23, in the Andante, the right hands starts typically impish little upward runs. They are both sparkling delight and mildly ironic commentary: they are also quite important in the overall structure (they are later doubled in the orchestra). Here they were mere decorations, perfectly played without emotional expression, the marked pp exactly pp against the exact mf of the middle voice and the exact pp of the base line, as the score specifies, and were completely without any meaning. Later, the crashing accented chords of the opening of the allegro scherzando, punctuating the rapid forward movement of the piano, are passionate cries, not without touches of anger, anticipating, right at the start of his career, Prokofiev’s late piano sonatas. Here they were part of the pianistic, not the emotional, texture.

Much the same might be said of the Chopin Andante spianato et Grande polonaise brillante that followed – the inner voices perfect, the nuances and the emotions absent. I am sure many really enjoyed these performances for their sheer technicality and literalness; and the competitions all over the world have now ensured that the technical standards of younger players have rarely been equalled in such numbers. Perhaps that, too, is what audiences now want, but give me musicality over technicality any time, substance over style, or even better, combine both (as in Richter and Kondrashin’s marvellous 1952 performance of the Prokofiev Piano Concerto No.1 – here those right hand runs in the andante are magical, never actually pp, and continue into the structure).

The concert ended rather incongruously with Wagner’s Prelude to Act I of Meistersinger – incongruously, because, memorable though it is, this is the most solidly bourgeois of Wagner’s opera preludes, and it seemed rather out of place after the dancing elves, the Witches’ Sabbath of the Mussorgsky, or even the yearning of the Polish revolutionary Chopin. Not to mention the promise of spring, which inevitably came to mind as we went out into the snow of a grey Edmonton Sunday evening in April, that cruelest month.

 

 

 

 

Review Charles Richard-Hamelin

review by Isis Tse

 

 

Kilburn Memorial Concert

Charles Richard-Hamelin (piano)

Convocation Hall, University of Alberta
Tuesday, April 4

Program:
Mozart: Fantasy in D minor K. 397
F. Chopin: Quatre Impromptus:
No. 1 in A flat major op. 29
No. 2 in F sharp major op. 36
No. 3 in G flat major op. 51
No. 4 in C sharp minor Fantaisie-Impromptu Op.posth. 6
Chopin: Polonaise in A flat major op. 53 “Héroïque
Schumann: Cinq Feuillets d’album (tiré de “Bunte Blätter” op. 99)
Schumann: Piano Sonata no. 1 in F sharp minor, op. 11

 Photo : Elizabeth Delage

Photo : Elizabeth Delage

The featured artist of this year’s Kilburn Memorial Concert at Convocation Hall on Tuesday evening (April 4) was pianist Charles Richard-Hamelin, the silver medalist of the International Chopin Piano Competition in 2015. The 28-year-old musician is the first Canadian to finish in the top three of this prestigious competition. He studied at McGill University, the Yale School of Music, and the Conservatoire de Musique de Montréal – since winning the competition two years ago, his international career has taken off. He recently appeared with the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra in October 2016, performing Chopin’s Piano Concerto No. 2 in F minor.

The Kilburn Memorial Concert is an annual event put on by the University of Alberta that boasts free admission; online RSVP was required and the concert was shown as sold out on the website. However, Convocation Hall was only about two-thirds full. Given the calibre of this performance, it unfortunate that spots were unavailable for those who would have wanted to attend.

The program opened with Mozart’s Fantasia No. 3, but Richard-Hamelin immediately confirmed his reputation for Chopin with his use of “melody delay” – letting the right hand trail behind the left hand accompaniment – and delicate rubato. The remaining first half of the program was devoted to works of Chopin. His performance of the Chopin Impromptus showed his ability for dramatic contrasts and superb lyricism. In the second and third Impromptus, in particular, he let the music speak for itself. Dissonance, harmonic colours, and register changes were brought out with poise. His version of the Fantasie-Impromptu was compelling and musical, while not falling into the trap of self-indulgence. The “Heroic” Polonaise, too, lived up to its nickname, but the fortissimos were joyous without being aggressive.

The second half of the program featured early Schumann works, which are certainly less well-known pieces than the Chopin selections. The first of the selections was five short pieces from Bunte Blätter (‘Coloured Leaves’), each of them no longer than two and a half minutes. Given the relative obscurity of Bunte Blätter, the audience was unprepared for the ending and did not manage to applaud before he immediately launched into the first movement of the Piano Sonata No. 1, Op.11. Richard-Hamelin plays for the music rather than the audience. At times, his performance is so intimate that one feels as if one is intruding by listening.

The sonata was Schumann’s first venture into the form; it suffers somewhat from a lack of structural cohesion. However, Richard-Hamelin brought out the passion in the first and last movements, the emotional fragility of the Aria, and the classical poise of the Scherzo contrasted with Chopin-inspired Intermezzo.

Charles Richard-Hamelin is not a showy performer, and his greatest strength is his unpretentious approach. He is physically reserved and almost crouches over the piano. His playing, rather than being a carefully planned performance, is a genuine interpretation of an artist who is emotionally present in the moment. His technical ability is impeccable but never stands in the way of musical sensitivity. The young pianist shows maturity and insight beyond his years. It is refreshing to see such honest, heartfelt music-making.

His first recording, featuring late works by Chopin, was released on the Canadian Analekta label; a second album, released in the fall of 2016, was recorded live at the Palais Montcalm in Quebec City with music by Beethoven, Enescu and Chopin. I look forward to hearing more from this exceptional young artist.

Preview: Trio de Moda

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Neda Yamach (Violin), Kathleen de Caen (cello), and Clayton Leung (viola)

Holy Trinity Anglican Church (10037 84 Ave)
Sunday, April 9, 2 p.m.
Admission by donation

Program:

Beethoven: String Trio in G major, Op. 9, No. 1
Penderecki: String Trio
Dohnànyi: Serenade in C major for String Trio, Op. 10

 

Chamber music is very much alive and well in Edmonton. We are fortunate to have both the Edmonton Chamber Music Society and the Edmonton Recital Society bringing in chamber musicians of international calibre. The Solstice chamber music festival celebrates its tenth anniversary this June. The Vaughan String Quartet has now established itself as Edmonton’s main string quartet, offering a full season of concerts each year.

What Edmonton has not had recently is a home-grown professional string trio – until now. For two members of the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra, violinist Neda Yamach and violist Clayton Leung, have joined together with cellist Kathleen de Caen to form the Trio de Moda, and they will give their inaugural concert this Sunday.

All three players are young, enthusiastic, and excited about the possibilities for a string trio in the city. Neda Yamach grew up in St. Alberta, and started playing the violin at 5. She studied in New York and at McGill, returned to Alberta in 2010 to play with the Alberta Baroque Orchestra and Kent Sangster’s Obsessions Octet, and joined the ESO in 2011.

Clayton Leung was born and raised in Vancouver – where he and his brothers all played string instruments – and also studied in the States, at the Cleveland Institute of Music, as well as at the University of Victoria. Originally a violinist, he switched to the viola, and after his studies joined the Newfoundland Symphony Orchestra (he also plays the guitar and the ukulele). In 2013 he moved to Edmonton to join the ESO.

Kathleen de Caen grew up in Edmonton, and did her masters in Montréal, where she also studied the El Sistema project, a method of teaching children to play classical music instruments, especially disadvantaged children. When the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra started the YONA-Sistema project in the city, she returned to join the staff, and is the project’s cello teacher (both Leung and Yamach are ESO ambassadors for the project).

De Caen – whose father had himself played in a string trio – had originally met Leung at a Toronto music festival, and the three players became friends in Edmonton. “I had always wanted to work with Neda and Kathleen,” says Leung.

De Caen explained the genesis of the trio. “The three of us enjoyed playing together. We started slowly, and we worked towards giving a performance. Then we decided in the Fall we would like to form a permanent trio.”

“We all love chamber music,” says Yamach, “and we wanted to do more of it.”

They already have another couple of concerts in the works after this inaugural one, and their new web site should be up this week. Their program on Sunday will mix the familiar with the more adventurous. They’ll be playing Dohnànyi’s genial and lyrical Serenade, a regular staple for string trios, and Beethoven’s rather grand but energetic G major trio, Op. 9, No. 1.

They will also be playing Penderecki’s masterful little String Trio. It was completed in 1991, in a period when Penderecki was beginning to ingrate some of the more avant-garde techniques of his earliest works with the neo-Romantic style he had cultivated over the previous two decades. The String Trio, though, is harmonically largely tonal, and it’s a gritty work, managing to combine a dramatic thrust with more lyrical writing, providing plenty of opportunities to for solo playing among the trio, and with a fugue weaving through the end of its powerful 13 minutes.

“It’s a program,” says De Caen, “built around things we really wanted to play.”

The concert admission is by donation, and takes place at Holy Trinity Anglian Church this Sunday (April 9) at 2 p.m.

 

The New Orford String Quartet

For Mark Morris’ review in the Edmonton Journal of the New Orford String Quartet, presented by the Edmonton Chamber Music Society in the Robertson-Wesley United Church on Saturday April 1, click here.

Richard Eaton Singers Haydn Creation review

Richard Eaton Singers
Edmonton Symphony Orchestra
Leonard Ratzlaff (conductor)
Leslie Ann Bradley (soprano), Alexander Hajek (baritone), John Tessier (tenor)Winspear, March 31

Program:
Haydn: The Creation (sing in English)

It’s always good to hear Haydn’s The Creation. It may not now have quite the popularity it commanded half a century ago, but it’s difficult not to be stirred when that great C major chord announces God has let the light go forth, or to appreciate the creation of birds and animals as Haydn echoes their songs in the orchestra, or to respond to Adam and Eve singing their duet of love and marvel. The work is untrammelled by the events in the Garden of Eden, which we may know are coming, but which Haydn carefully avoids. It is ultimately about the joy and wonder of the world around us.

It’s not just an appealing work, but it’s also interesting musically. When Haydn completed it in 1798, Vienna had just been in panic at a possible invasion by the Turks, Mozart was already dead (so Haydn had had the chance to hear all his main operas), and Beethoven had started on his successful compositional and performance career – it’s all to easy to forget how long Haydn lived, as we usually think of him as the precursor to both those composers.

Consequently, The Creation has its feet in quite a number of musical antecedents. The very idea of an oratorio was essentially passé in continental Europe by 1798, though not in England, where the tradition of Handel was still very much alive (and appreciated by Mozart, who arranged a ‘modernized’ version of The Messiah) – and, of course, it was a tradition that that England would continue to champion throughout the 19th Century, commissioning works from composers like Mendelsohn and Dvořák.

That tradition provides the more traditional elements, such as the recitatives. But there’s something of the spirit of Goethe’s new Romanitism in the opening, with touches of the Mannheim Sturm und Drang musical style. And the shade of Mozart can also be heard, with echoes of Cosi fan Tutte in the orchestral setting of the trio (No.18) describing the wonders of the fifth day of creation, or in the trio (25a), as the Lord feeds each living soul. The wonderful duet between Adam and Eve is pure Haydn, showing he had lost none of his original genius.

The subject, too, rather breaks away from the oratorio tradition, for it is less a musical realization of Biblical events than a kind of pastoral, a celebration of nature as much as God, through the events of the Creation in the words of the Bible and Milton’s Paradise Lost. There’s really very little in the oratorio repertoire with this kind of tone during the 19th century – not until Mahler and Gurre-lieder does that kind of big choral appreciation of nature reappear.

The Richard Eaton Singers’ performance at the Winspear on Friday evening (March 31), with the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra conducted by the choir’s Musical Director of 35 years, Leonard Ratzlaff, also had a traditional base. The choir is a very large one, in the tradition of the symphonic choirs of both the 19th and 20th centuries. The result is a very big sound, emphasized here by the orchestra: although Haydn uses an orchestra that is large for a classical work, the presence here of five double-bases gave a bass-heavy colour, and the over-amplification of the harpsichord continuo added to the sense that a lower overall colour had been chosen, a little at the expense of the detail of the higher instruments, such as the woodwind (which included some fine flute playing here).

Ratzlaff’s interpretation, too, belongs to an older tradition, with rather slow, emphatic tempi, that in part reflects the very large chorus (inevitably less flexible than a smaller group), but is in contrast to modern practices that take music of the pre-Romantic era at faster tempi.

The result is perhaps a matter of taste. The virtue of such an approach is the scale of the sound, especially in the grander moments; the downside is that some detail is lost, and passages sometimes cry out for a more sprightly approach. The choir, though, do revel in the overall concept, and their precision and discipline in this performance was commendable – they are a tighter choir than when I last heard them last year. Occasionally, in spite of their size, the sheer volume is not quite as great as might be expected in the grandest passages, but the more I hear choirs in the Winspear, the more I am convinced that this is a result of the hall’s acoustics rather than any lack of power in the choir. This was a committed performance.

The trio of soloists (joined by one of the choir, Janet Smith, for the final quartet) was an illustrious one. Canadian baritone Alexander Hajek (the Baron in Edmonton Opera’s recent production of The Merry Widow) has the kind of powerful lower range that is ideal for Raphael (and Adam), exemplary diction –this performance was sung in English – and an operatic approach that brought out some of the dramatic elements. What was less successful were his humorous gestures, that elicited laughs from the audience, such as his clawing when singing of the lion, as if he were Bottom in Midsummer Night’s Dream, showing how well he would do in the part of the lion.

I can understand the impulse, but it was inappropriate. The Creation is not a comedy. Haydn celebrates all creation in this work – it is one of its great achievements – and Hajek’s actions rather denigrated some of that creation, in an age when we are beginning to recognize that all creation deserves our respect and honour.

Soprano Leslie Ann Bradley brought a rich, darker soprano to the work, that entirely suited it. But in this performance there was a lack of a smooth progression through the range, that hampered the overall effect, and the clarity of her diction did not match her fellow soloists.

How lucky we are, though, that John Tessier has curtailed his international career to spend more family time in Edmonton – the opera houses of the world’s loss is our gain. There is something very special about his tenor voice: there is a colour, a kind of tiny musical accent, to his sound that is entirely his. John Vickers and Jussi Björling had something similar, with the result that their voices are instantly recognizable. His tenor is also attractively lyrical, and his performance here was a pleasure to listen to, both in terms of interpreting the piece, and for the sheer pleasure of listening to lovely singing.

The Richard Eaton Singers are due to tour the UK later this year, and their next concert, at the McDougall Church on Saturday, June 10, features some of the music (including Canadian works) that they will be singing in cathedrals in Edinburgh, Durham, York, and Oxford.

In the meantime, what a pleasure that they reminded us how good Haydn’s Creation is.

 

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