
To have passed through the rigours of the
preliminary rounds and heats, given the extraordinary amount of solo talent
amongst conservatory students, was no mean achievement, and it was well said
that, simply being on stage and performing in the Grand Final was indication in
itself of all three soloists being a winner.
The rules of competitions are such that an adjudicator is obliged to
select a winner, and one was duly selected, but so far as the audience was
concerned, the simple pleasure of hearing and seeing so much incredible musical
talent was what the evening was all about.
And, as many said to me before the concert, the programme itself was
enticing enough to draw in people for whom the idea of a musical completion is anathema
(and my next blog post will look a little into that phenomenon).
The three works were from three composers
who were contemporaries of each other, yet whose music is stylistically poles
apart. I was profoundly impressed by how
all three of the soloists had thoroughly immersed themselves in the stylistic
world of these composers and come out with performances which were convincingly
idiomatic.
The most compelling performance, from an interpretative point of view, was that of the Ukrainian violinist Korniev Oleksandr who produced an account of the Sibelius Concerto of rare perceptiveness. He showed an innate understanding of the work and of the composer’s unique idiom, but more than that he seemed to reveal a level of insight which few, even at the very height of their professional careers, ever achieve. It had that icy bleakness which characterises so much of the music, and, through tiny, subtle touches, revealed a performer for whom the concerto was not so much a vehicle to express his – unquestionably magnificent – technique, but to reveal his deep musical personality. There was a sense that he associated himself with the very essence of the work; which may, to an extent, have counted against him in that, with a performance so polished and accomplished, one felt that he had nothing more to say.
It was an inspired choice that Singaporean
pianist Mervyn Lee made in electing
to play Shostakovich’s Second Piano Concerto.
This was a concerto written for a 19-year-old, and its youthful vigour
and high spirits were so fully attuned with Lee’s own 17-year-old psyche, that,
as with Oleksandr and Sibelius, it seemed to fit him like a glove. Lee also made the most impressive visual
display on stage. By wearing a scarlet
Chinese tunic he at once showed himself as a performer willing to stand out from
the crowd (which is what any concerto soloist must do). This was certainly a dazzling display of
pianistic virtuosity, but more than that, it was an exciting and thrilling delivery
of a work which clearly suited the teenage Lee’s entire approach. His interaction with the orchestra as well as
his profound understanding of the work’s character, shone through every bar. Which, again, may have counted a little
against him. When a young soloist shows
such empathy with a work written for a young soloist, there is a slight
question hanging over those who hear it; would he do as well in the more mature
repertory?

It’s easy to forget, in the admiration for
these three outstanding soloists, that what really made them play so well
(apart, that is, form their superlative teachers) was the unfailingly outstanding
support from the Conservatory Orchestra which, faced with three quite demanding
works, showed a level of professionalism and all-round awareness, which made
you forget they were there. There was no
hint of strain or struggle about the orchestral playing – it did what it needed
to do brilliantly, and added much of real worth to the overall performance.
And for that, one cannot over-praise the
superlative Jason Lai, who reveals in every concert he conducts, a level of
musical insight and integrity which never ceases to astonish. Here, his stylistic perceptiveness was never
in doubt, and it was delivered in the calm, unflustered manner by which you
just know that he is in total control and that, should anything go amiss, he’ll
handle it without breaking into a sweat.
He showed himself an innate Elgarian, blending with infinite precision
the various orchestral hues Elgar writes in his opulent score (let’s hear Lai
do an Enigma Variations or a 1st
Symphony – he’ll be more than a match for the Andrew Davis’s of this world, I
have no doubt). He showed himself to be
a thoroughly idiomatic Shostakovichian, gently prodding the touches of satire
and pathos in the Concerto and driving it onwards with that persistent,
unflagging momentum which characterises everything Shostakovich wrote (something
I trace back to his days accompanying silent movies, where you could not stop
once the film had started). And he
showed himself an instinctive Sibeliusian, deeply conscious of the sparse harmonic
and melodic idiom which calls for an expansive, long-term view which so many other
conductors find elusive.
It was a concert of winners, certainly, the
biggest of whom was the audience who sat entranced and enthralled throughout an
absolutely sumptuous musical banquet.
We in the audience were indeed winners. It was an excellent evening. All three soloists displayed amazing self-confidence as well as interpretive sensitivity and technical skill. Thank you Dr Marc for this fulsome summary.
ReplyDeleteIt's worth noting that Jade Tan will be performing again as early as this Thursday, 4th Feb, when she will be running another of her "Classical Conversations" lecture-recitals. Like so much classical music in Singapore that's slightly out of the mainstream, it has been woefully underpublicised.