Music
Perils of genius
by Peter Shaw
With great prowess comes great responsibility.
Within a week in Auckland two multi-prizewinning artists, violinist Feng Ning and pianist John Chen, gave solo recitals in the Town Hall Concert Chamber. Both played to packed houses. In both cases they were listened to raptly and received shouting, stamping ovations. Yet what a responsibility is technical prowess for talented young musicians.
Ning won last year’s Michael Hill International Violin Competition. He is a phenomenal player with a gorgeous and, more importantly, varied sound. That Michael Houstoun was his accompanist was an accolade in itself. Although Ning’s technique is flawless, his programme held the fireworks in reserve until the very end, when he let rip with a raft of encores of breathtaking excitement.
To open with Bach’s Sonata No 4 in C minor (BWV 1017) shows a seriousness of intent on the part of both musicians. Originally written for a very different- sounding instrument than the one played by Ning and designed to be accompanied by a harpsichord, in this performance it had significantly larger dimensions. Ning’s command of modern Bach style seemed to be impeccable, yet it was difficult to hear. From the first notes, played by the piano, it was clear that there was a major problem.
The use of the large Steinway D piano was a mistake. Because the instrument was not properly voiced for the concert chamber, the sound was booming and muggy. The lid was only slightly opened and the piano placed well back on the stage, so someone must have listened to the sound of the instrument from the body of the hall to have made such decisions. This huge piano is designed for the titanic struggles of a pianist playing something such as Brahms’s First Concerto with a symphony orchestra behind and in a much larger hall. Faced with such competition in the concert chamber, the solo violinist had to struggle through, like a swimmer against a strong current.
So, the magical opening of the very rarely played and eagerly anticipated Schubert Fantasie in C (D934) was robbed of its sad, shimmering delicacy and reduced to the prosaic. One was aware of rare skill on the part of the soloist, of a fine understanding of how the work should be played, yet the performance as a whole was a wreck. Fortunately, Fauré’s Sonata No 1 in A demands a much more opulent sound from both instruments and here the two musicians were more at one since neither baroque precision nor classical poise were called for.
Things improved with the Paganini Variations, Le Streghe because the pianist’s role is to provide a background for the violinist’s display of pyrotechnics. Ning’s command of the full battery of technical feats required was phenomenal and thrilling as only a completely secure technical display can be. I long to hear him again under better circumstances.
Some nights later, for Chen’s Chamber Music NZ solo recital, a Steinway C was in place – rather more forward on the stage. Mozart’s buoyantly elegant Sonata in B flat, K333 sounded superb. That Chen is an accomplished Mozartian is a well-established fact. Here he exhibited the clarity and poise that has been evident in his playing since I first heard him give a dazzling performance at the age of 16 of a Mozart sonata followed by Ravel’s Jeux d’eaux, played in a tent on the lawn at Auckland University.
The Liszt B minor Sonata is one of the great pianistic challenges. Chen went at it with vigour, maybe firing off his heavy artillery a little too early in terms of the work’s design, yet realising its immense power in a manner that would compare favourably with the great pianists who have played it here in the past. He seemed completely unfazed by the piece’s technical challenges, including the considerable demands made in quieter sections. Chen’s interpretation of the sonata showed an astonishing maturity.
The marvellous Schubert Drei Klavierstecke (D946) are another rarity in concert. The second, in songful E flat, with two contrasting darker minor key episodes, offers the greatest challenge. They were played expertly, if not with quite that sense of tension and relaxation needed (and best heard in Wilhelm Kempff’s live BBC recording from 1969).
The Dutilleux Piano Sonata (1946-48), a wonderful but relatively unknown work with echoes of Fauré, Debussy, Poulenc and Messiaen, received a truly inspiring performance that makes one even more eager for Chen’s forthcoming Naxos recording of this composer’s complete piano music.
