It's been too long since I last wrote a post in my blog, so instead of letting this slip quietly away forever, a happy reminder to me of things that were important to me in my past, I'd like to reactivate this.  A search of blogs after mine in the line-up indicate that abandoned blogs are very common.  But I like to write, and I love photography, and I still love piano -- in fact, after attending that 2009 Van Cliburn International Piano Competitition, I've attended every one since.  The Van Cliburn International Piano Competition is the one where I met the delightfully shy and endearing Tomoki Sakata -- at the time, the spitting image of my son, Ross.  (Of course, now, five years later, neither looks like the other).  But I can' tell you how enchanting it is to see "your son" on stage at Bass Hall! I was smitten with Tomoki, and in love with his playing.  My Mom joined me for the 2013 cycle, and we had a terrific time exploring Fort Worth and meeting pianists and getting their autographs (my Mom is so much bolder than me) (I remember how we both loved the Australian pianist -- his name is on the tip of my tongue and will come to me any minute now) and how delighted we were to learn we were sitting next to his modest grandmother, who only let us know at the last minute of conversation, before the lights dimmed, that her grandson was performing next!)

 More recently, I attended the 2017 Van Cliburn.  I was sad when my Mom could not attend with me.  Perhaps because I went alone, I made the most friends there -- many piano teachers from Texas -- who I expect will see in 2021.  I was very happy to meet Brian, Mary, and Jennifer -- we went out for meals every day and happily shared our opinions about what we saw and heard, and covered for the others when we needed a break.  I once missed one recital so I could enjoy the Texas sunshine after four straight days inside Bass Hall--going to the Fort Worth Arboretum--and missed one of the finalists!  Just when you think you've heard the best, and the performances can't get any better....they do.

With each Van Cliburn, I like to mark my progress as to where I am, pianistically.  Four years is a good amount of time that you really can see progress.  For my first Van Cliburn (2009) I had been taking piano for eight years as an adult student, then a mother of two young sons in elementary school.  I remember going out for ice cream with some attendees, discussing piano studies of our own, and one was learning Debussy -- and how that was a dream for me, that seemed unattainable.

For the next Van Cliburn cycle, in 2013, I had continued lessons for four more years (amazing what a motivational jolt attending these amazing performances can be), had performed a Debussy piece in a recital (Dr. Gradus and Parnussum), and had just begun teaching piano students for a year or two.  By the 2017 cycle, I had a thriving piano studio of 8 students and had learned Beethoven's first piano sonata on my own, as by this point I had stopped taking lessons with my beloved teacher, Maribeth Gowen.

Above picture is of my beautiful, radiant mom, following coffee and reading the newspaper eager for profiles of contestants -- on a beautiful morning in Fort Worth, Texas.  Below is me, taken after a student piano recital.

Sunday Afternoon Recital: First up was Israeli pianist from Ukraine.  Started with Scarlatti, and although it was played correctly, it was missing the sweetness and exuberance.  Perhaps tempo was rushed, or nerves played a hand.  His Mozart was better.  He is a tall, slender man with a very strong jaw.  Wore a silver shirt of silky material-shades of American Idol.  The Mozart was at times heavy.  Not effervescent.  He followed with Schumann's Humoresque, which sadly was overlong...three times I thought (with some hopefulness) that the piece was coming to a close; but there was more.  

Moving on to the second pianist:

Then, there was the third pianist, who completely won me over with his reading of the Rachmaninoff Sonata No. 2 in b flat minor.  After the poor performance of this wonderful sonata the previous night, I now feel I can leave Fort Worth in peace.  This pianist is Ilya Rashkovskiy, who played on the NY Steinway.  He opened with Beethoven Sonata in a flat minor, Opus 110; then played Chopin's Ballade No. 1 in g minor, then closed with the Rachmaninoff Sonata No. 2.

This is another very tall, handsome youth of about 25 years. He had a very hard act to follow, since the Bulgarian pianist won over the Hall.  (I'm going to do my write-up on him tonight after tonight's recital.)  Seemed to start his Beethoven with great trepidation and a too-light touch (not into the keys deeply), even in passages where he was playing forte.  By the second movement he got more comfortable--again, nerves may well be playing a role.  Interestingly, I keep thinking: "how can these pianists have nerves of steel so that they never appear nervous?" The answer may well be: they appear calm, but their playing is not as confident as it would be if they were playing in their own living room.  At any rate, the Adagio was soulful, unhurried.  Tempo was a little rushed from what he initially established.  By the fourth  movement, he was in complete control of a wonderful fugue: elegant, and beautiful, with subject clearly articulated in all it's repeated voices.  He played this with aplomb and power, and there is a passage with chords progressively crescendo-ing which added to overall positive effect.  Then, the fugue began again very quietly.  My neighbor commented that it is rare to have such a fine reading of a late Beethoven sonata by such a young pianist.

He played the Chopin Ballade very well, showing he can do soulful--as one would expect of a Russian pianist!  A few places he rushed where he should have lingered, but overall a beautiful piece done very well, especially the last movement.

Now, the Rachmaninoff (those who know me well know that I am a true Rachmaninoff fan, so I was heartbroken for the poor reading it received the previous night).  This time is was just what I needed to hear--what we all needed to hear.  A beautiful, sensitive, well-voiced, introspective and yet passionate reading.  The mysterious Russian soul was completely captured.  He opened the 2nd movement as beautifully and as sweetly as you please, with creamy harmonies and leisurely timing.  For the 3rd movement, it was like Rachmaninoff himself was seated at the keyboard.  I could just see it!  No artifice, just beautiful music--he played it straight, as I imagine the melancholy Rachmaninoff would play this sonata.  He let the music speak for itself: passionate, majestic, mysterious, at times plaintive.    Wonderful end to this recital--really hope he moves up to the Semifinals.   

His face is a picture in concentration, not as easy to read as previous pianist (again, saving that write-up for later), but no detracting mannerisms. 

Saturday Evening Performance:  Nobuyuki Tsujii, a 20 year old pianist from Japan was accompanied to the Steinway by his mother.  For those of us (me) who don't read our Competition Guide thoroughly in advance, it was an amazing--and bewildering--realization that this pianist,  blind from birth, was now going to play for us at the Van Cliburn.  I couldn't believe that he would be able to compete at the level of artistry so far exhibited, but I know that the selection process was rigorous.  

He sat down, swiped the keyboard up and down several times with a kerchief, then launched into a powerful--and beautiful--interpretation of the first Chopin Etude.  His hands were moving at lightning speed, sparkling up and down, jumping around--with just an occasional missed note, and the artistry was such that such a minor flaw didn't even register.  At one level it was thrilling that he was able to play these bravura pieces at all without missing notes.  At a deeper level, it was clear that his musical ear was particularly acute.  Happily, his performance was very deep, eloquent, nuanced, an musically sensitive.  I  felt like I was holding my breath for his early offerings, then was able to relax and enjoy--although that quizzical sense: "how does he do it"? never left me completely.  Because all live recitals have a visual component, we were not able to forget that he was not sighted due to head movements that were not in sync with the music being played.  I noticed that the ever-present moving camera on stage that watches a pianist's every move was not present for his performance.  Here are the notes I took during his performance: "amazing tone and color, one of the most amazing performances I've ever seen, lovely singing tone, accuracy within the brilliance."  The Etude no. 3 is a particular favorite of ours, and hearing it brought tears to my eyes.  He played on the New York Steinway, which to my ears, never sounded lovelier.  Here's the thing: his playing bespoke outstanding teaching, and I was filled with admiration for whoever dedicated him or herself to the task of teaching piano to a small blind child, then, dreaming big things as the training took on more seriousness--the vision and scope amaze me.  His endings were particularly noteworthy: in several etudes he played the ending chord or chords more forcefully than the preceeding measures, very effective musically I found.  Not only convincing sounding, but such a beautiful tone--it was a treasure to listen until the last sounds remained.  His  technique was all there, he had fluidity, brilliance, sensitive articulation, total dynamic control--never have I heard more sensitive phrasing, and total artistry.  His hearing has been his best ally.  I have never heard Chopin sound so beautifully.  The gentleman seated next to me turned to me and said: "As I would say to my atheist friends, tell me there's no God"!   Indeed, it was very rewarding to hear this young man's performance on many different levels. 

In addition to the twelve Chopin Etudes from Opus 10, he next played Debussy's Images, Book 1, and ended with Liszt's Paganini Etude No. 3, "La Campanella".  I am going to buy the DVD of his semifinal performance because I found it very inspiring, and I doubt anyone will believe my high praise.  One reviewer reported that this pianist had committed the sin of dynamic monotony.  I find this charge incredible and wonder if the reviewer knew what changing dynamics sound like.  Believe me, they were there and appropriately changing!  Well done, Nobuyuki Tsajii!

 

Saturday Afternoon Recitals, May 23, 209

I'm going to move on to the three most recently heard pianists so I can write them up while I am still fresh from their performances: today we heard a South Korean pianist, Soyeon Lee, followed by a Chinese pianist, Di Wu (both Soyeon an Di are female); then the Greek male pianist, Vassilis Varvaresos.

Soyeon Lee chose to perform on the Hamburg Steinway.  She opened with Iberia, Book 1, by Albeniz, then followed it with Schumann's Carnival, Opus 9.  She appeared in a long white flowing dress; her long black hair pulled back into a ponytail.  She is petite, but can easily get big sounds out of the piano.  On the Albeniz, some movements--slow, evocative, chords suspended in the air--were lovely.  But there were many moments where the sound was not as delicate or shimmering as I would have liked this Spanish music to be-I imaging the sun on the sea shimmering in that silvery way.  For those many passages where the music was more richly textured, the melody was buried by the inner voices.  Her hands are exceedingly graceful.  Her head was often bowed so that she was literally over her knees.  During staccato passages she would lift her hands high in mid-air (why don't I ever do that?  One of the many things that amateur piano students never think to try--perhaps it feels too mannered for many of us, although if we can just get over that feeling of "acting" like we're pianists and instead focus on the sound we are trying to achieve we might surprise ourselves.)

She performed Schumann's Carnival with more comfort.  Mostly she played it with strength and verve, although there were places where it felt cautiously played and tempo noticeably slowed down to accommodate the technical demands--places where I expected a certain brilliance.  I didn't have my program with me so I didn't know this was Carnival, although I guessed correctly that the composer was Robert Schumann.  It had the feel of a large, grand piece in the Romantic school, yet had the quirkiness of Schumann.  My only other comment was that sometimes she didn't clear the pedal and harmonies awkwardly attenuated.  I noticed this at least 3 times, which I suppose will be a problem for her moving onto the Semifinals.  The audience seemed to really like her, giving her a partial standing ovation.  I'll have to save the other two for later....have another recital to get to!  

More About Last Night...

I am new to blogging, but it seems as if perhaps I am writing too much--I re-read last night's post, and it was L-O-N-G...plus, I have to catch up with accounts of Stephen Beus, Ran Dank, and the three recitalists from last night--Chetan Tierra, Spencer Meyer, and Eduard Kunz.  I only have one hour to finish my notes before I get to hear six more hour long recitals that are sure to blow me away.  I'm doing this as much for me as for any readers of this, looking to this as a way of journaling this  experience--and for any readers, sharing this wonderful opportunity.

I am an amateur musician, in the best sense--amateur as one who is passionate about music, is moved by music,  studies piano and music theory, attends numerous concerts to refine my ear, and am interested in music psychology/music cognition/music pedagogy and music history and theory.  I studied piano for only four years as a youngster (ages 9-12) with various teachers in many places (I was an Air Force brat)--then I found my home in the ballet world.   I studied ballet intensively for fourteen years--was accepted into the Dayton Ballet Second Company when I was 13 years old and would have stayed to move into First Company but my family transferred to Nebraska (Offutt Air Force Base)--within six months I was dancing the lead in the Nutcracker (Snow Queen) when I was 14.  I auditioned and won a scholarship to attend a performing arts middle and high school, the National Academy of Ballet, in Champaign-Urbana, where I studied for the next 4 years until HS graduation.  After graduation I postponed colege to dance professionally with the Ballet of Illinois until the company disbanded due to financial instability.  I then earned a degree in General Engineering from the University of Illinois, had a professional life, married a wonderful man and have two great sons.  After September 11th (2001) I finally decided to pursue piano lessons again as an adult, and have been doing so happily ever since.  I have passed my Grade 6 examination with the Associated Board/Royal School of Music (AB/RSM) in music theory (Highest level is Grade 8) within the past four years.  So, classical music has been my whole life--mostly dancing to it!  

I am not the one to go to for the definitive "how was this phrase played" person--indeed, developing that kind of ear is exactly why I go to as many concerts as I can, and I would be the first to acknowledge that probably only someone who can or has actually played much of the standard keyboard repertoire is best qualified.  This is simply my own view of the proceedings, and I admit I am interested in everything: how a pianist presents, how they collect their thoughts before beginning, how they establish their rhythm and quality immediately, how they end their performance, their position on piano bench, their program, simply everything.  That may be too much for many of you--on the other hand, you may find that the official blogs have a paucity of information.   I also hope I don't offend any performer.  Simply put, all 29 who are here performing are capable (and many already are) of a career on the concert stage--in my opinion.  But, let's say that not all 29 can be equally superlative in any ONE recital (and let's not forget--this is just one recital for them, and about as high-pressured as one can get), and fine minds can differ.  

OK: returning briefly to Stephen Beus, from the USA--I wanted to note that when he played the Musette (from Bach's English Suite No. 3 in e minor BWV 808) after he played the first two sections he took the repeat at the beginning with beautiful ornamentation--simply graceful.  He was the only contestant who smiled as he played.  He plays mostly erect, uses his head to give sense of motion/rhythm.   His Bach was strong, with clarity in all voices.  He then performed the Barber Sonata, which I've heard before (with it's remarkable opening, it's easy to recognize).  Not every performer is playing something from the post-modern and on repertoire, I've noticed.  This surprises me that it doesn't seem to be a requirement for the Preliminaries. He played the opening movement very well, the second movement I noted was "shimering, like Ondine", and the third movement exuded darker emotions effectively: bittersweet (more bitter than sweet), painful, dark and mysterious quality.  Last movement is a four voice fugue with a driving, toccata-like quality.  An interesting companion piece for the Bach he opened with.  Mr. Beus is an all-American, boyish young man--a seeming rarity at competitions.  He wears eyeglasses, has a neat haircut, and smiles, as if he has really grown in confidence since his last time performing at the Van Cliburn four years ago.  When you watch his face it's clear he's conducting it all in his head.  No detracting mannerisms.  Huge applause from the audience for his Barber.  Liszt: he dove into the first chord like a seabird diving into the ocean and successfully plucking a fish.  This melody seems based on Handel's Sarabande (which in turn may be based on something else, I realize...).  If you like the Sarabande (I love it), you will love what Liszt did with it--beautiful, virtuosic (is this a word?), powerful, and moving.  He is an intelligent, musical performer, comfortable with silences between sections.  He had lightning octaves, and shimmering passagework in the upper registers.  This piece shows off his range and innate musicality--many tonal colors, wide range of dynamics, and technical glitz--but not at expense of overarching musical integrity.  I keep thinking what a joy it must be to teach pianists at this level.  I imagine a teacher says something once, and the student obliges.  Mr. Beus went to Whitman College for 4 years, then Julliard for 4 more.  Wonder how he kept his piano up while attending Whitman College--it doesn't say what he studied.  Perhaps is was music-related?  It was while playing the Liszt that he showed his lighthearted side--in keeping with the piece.  FYI--both pianists (1) and (2) (the Ukrainian and Mr. Beus) played using the Hamburg Steinway.

Gotta go for next series of recitalists.  Will have to return to update on the three I heard last night, because I heard some very important performers: American Spencer Meyer and Russian Eduard Kunz--both turned in amazing performances and I think there is a chance both might make it to the next stage.  Cheers!

Natacha Kudritskaya, up first in the unenviable jump spot, of 29 (one pianist, Yue Chu, a 25 year old from China, withdrew from the competition four days before the semifinals due to a hand injury) strode on stage making a striking impression--more like a hurdle jumper than a concert pianist, unfortunately.  Tall, reed slender, wearing a surprising performance outfit of a black T shirt with cap sleeves, brown cargo pants made from what looked like parachute silk, and shoes that were eye-catching: at first I thought they might be tennis shoes or even flip flops--my binoculars showed them to be a sort of leather tennis shoe, with striking white stripes alongside the sides.  I've heard the Cliburn is the Olympics of the music world, but this is ridiculous--she did indeed look ready to play a sport.  There was no denying it--her shoes were distracting.  Her hair was short, her manner: get down to business.    However, I'm happy to report that very soon after she began playing, nothing distracted the listener from enjoying her music.  She is a very intense person and musician, that was clear.  So, we followed her into her intensity--which is a very good thing for a performer to do.

She opened strongly with the Chopin Piano Sonata No. 2, in B flat minor, Opus 35.  This is a four movement piece.  She played the first two movements technically very well, but without her heart in it--tempo was rushed, she didn't linger at beautiful cadential points, the sense of beauty was missing and indeed it didn't seem as if she was listening to herself....but by the 3rd movement, she had found her way.  The 3rd movement is the majestic funeral march so well known.  This she played exquisitely, and she played well for the rest of her recital.   Following the Chopin Sonata, she played the very difficult Gaspard de la Nuit (Ravel) beautifully, all color and lightness and sonority--the movement about the gallows has a haunting, ethereal ostinato that she played with amazing dynamic control.   She closed her recital with Scriabin's Valse, a piece I heard for the first time.  One of the things I love about hearing the preliminaries is the opportunity to hear so much of the repertoire that I am still learning about--as contestants strive to differentiate themselves, they select works that can be fresh.  Although I am a Scriabin fan, this one did not win my heart.  Perhaps I was expecting a waltz, and was disappointed, or perhaps she did not play this as dance-like as I would have liked.  I'll have to hear it again sometime to know for sure.

Lastly, I'm always observing pianists' various positions from bench to keyboard and would like to share my observations.  Natacha is very tall.  She sat about at the middle of the bench, her elbows were slightly below her wrists.  Her hands were very graceful and terrific fun to watch (I was marveling at the final movement of the Chopin Sonata where her hands seemed to be playing passages in octave unison (does that make sense?) up and down the keyboard--wonderfully, mesmerizingly graceful.  Infrequently her hands took on a contorted "claw"position--perhaps best described as an exaggerated lift upwards of the wrist with fingers sharply pointing down.  Interesting.

Because each recital is about three hours long (three competitors perform an hour apiece), the audience takes a 15 minute break between sets.  I overheard an amusing conversation in the lobby--a couple were asking each other: "what's with her shoes? I offered my observations, but another individual joined in, saying, sotto voce, that she didn't want to wear any shoes at all, and at the last minute someone made her put on the only pair of shoes she had with her--the striped tennis shoes.  Truth or rumor?  Hard to imagine performing in bare feet.  I would have enjoyed seeing that!  If true, she must have been very upset--perhaps that would account for why it took the first two movements for her energy to kick in.

Our second pianist, the American Stephen Beus, played on "the Hambourg Steinway", as did Natacha.  He opened with Bach's English Suite No. 3 in g minor, BWV 808.    Mr. Beus has a stong, comfortable and relaxed stage presence.  You know you are in good hands here.  You can tell when an artist has an affinity (devotion) to Bach's music, and Mr. Beus indeed had it.  He had a relaxed face, smiling when the music was lighthearted.  It feels good knowing that there are capable pianists carrying on Bach's unparalleled legacy to the world.  Mr. Beus sometimes rhythmically kept beat with his right foot, making me wonder if he was pedaling.  I can state (thanks to binoculars) that he was not--only when there was a slow adagio movement, when use of the pedal was totally appropriate.  I have more to write about, but am falling asleep.  More on Mr. Beus, and then there was the Israeli pianist, Ran Dank.  And then there was the evening recital to report on as well!  I can categorically state that I have heard one of the Cliburn's medalist tonight--and that pianist is the Russian Eduard Kunz.  He was a striking individual pianist.  More on him later.   

 

Banners heralding the Van Cliburn Piano Competition