Pianist Joyce Yang
by
David Beech
The young Korean pianist
Joyce Yang launched the new season of the Steinway Society of the Bay Area in
imposing style on Sunday evening, September 23, 2007 at Le Petit Trianon, San
Jose. Already the silver medallist in the 2005 Van Cliburn competition at age
19, and still continuing her studies at the Juilliard School, Yang is now a
mature artist, well able to hold the attention of the audience throughout a long
program of Brahms, Carl Vine, and Schumann. Her dazzling technique is at the
service of a compelling musical personality, strongly characterizing ideas and
emotions with a range of sonorities often approaching the scale of a concerto or
symphony.
Smart and elegant in
appearance, slender and straight-backed at the piano, she began with Brahms’
four Op.119 pieces, and immediately showed in the B minor Intermezzo a fine ear
for the quieter accompanying notes, and an ability to spin out the melody over
them, with especially delicious soft triplets, although the tempo was a shade
slow and mannered. No such reservation existed thereafter ─ the E minor
Intermezzo flowed, thanks to the lightness of the pairs of sixteenths, with a
magical pp repeat of the central waltz section, and a nice unrolling of
the ending arpeggios. The p leggiero marking was well respected in the C
major Intermezzo, and the staccato ending came off well, if perhaps
lacking the ultimate in delicacy. So far the sound quality had been very good,
apart from some hardness and obviousness in a regular forte, so this made
one fear for the E-flat Rhapsodie, which in lesser hands can often make one
dread hearing the heavily chorded risoluto tune yet again. The problem
was solved in a totally unexpected way, not by easing off and giving more light
and shade to the tune, but by raising the dynamics a notch and finding
astonishing richness of sound in the Society’s fine Steinway model D
(appropriately enough, since this concert was being sponsored by the Sherman
Clay company who has represented Steinway in the area for 136 years.). The quiet
interlude was excellent with its spread chords and grace notes, and equally fine
were the little C major staccato section, the descending arpeggios (which
Yang clearly relished), the dotted leaps, and finally the crescendo
triplets leading to the thunderous climax. A memorable reincarnation of an
oft-murdered piece!
Whether it was a case of the
pianist discovering what this particular instrument was capable of, or of the
slumbering resonances within the piano itself having been awakened, the regular
forte also sounded fine after this, and the whole sonic picture was
excellent, even though it was on the grand scale for this intimate setting. The
opening up of the range to a full concerto style of playing was also apt as
preparation for Yang’s interpretation of Brahms’ Paganini Variations, Op.35,
since she made so clear the connection to Brahms’ monumental Piano Concertos.
The Paganini Variations, originally labeled as Studien, only make sense
as studies if they are for pianists aiming at the Concertos, and on this
evidence, Yang has a fine career ahead of her as a concerto player. She achieves
a huge and enjoyable sound with apparently little effort, with remarkably deft
pedaling so that melodies remain strikingly clear, and with great rhythmic
momentum.
To return to the work at
hand, even the simple Paganini theme was given an alluring shaping, and the Book
I variations demonstrated in turn momentum, clarity, finger work,
trills/arpeggios, reflective 2 against 3, syncopated pastoral, and octaves in
contrary motion, before arriving in variation 8 at the 6/8 tune in octaves as
though being played over an orchestra. Then came chromatic mystery, hesitancy,
the delicious glassy major variation with its pretty 5-note turn, major/minor
ambivalence, scherzando glissando, and the extended variation 14 which
becomes like a concerto peroration, inviting deserved applause which Yang
forestalled by moving straight on to Book II, and skipping the repeat of the
Paganini theme. We heard rapid triplets, legato 2 against 3, and
leggiero spikes, before the luscious slow waltz which Yang kept on a fairly
tight rein (except for a delicious pp repeat of the second strain).
Picking up speed again, Yang gave us the theme skipping over triplets, rushing
triplets alternating between the hands, 4 against 3, quasi pizzicato,
sinuous octaves, zipping arpeggios, and scherzando octaves (beautifully
done). Two andante variations provided calm before the final storm, first
a yearning melody where Yang excelled in placing the top notes of the arching
phrases, and second a series of brooding chromatic descents. As in Book I, the
lively final variation led to a concerto-like coda, and Yang drove this with
increasing impetus and volume to a triumphal conclusion, to be greeted with a
standing ovation.
Ever since performing and
recording Carl Vine’s Sonata No.1 at the Van Cliburn Competition, Joyce Yang has
continued to include this work in her recital programs, and she explained her
reasons to us ─ it has the rare property of being a modern work that can be
appreciated quite well at a first hearing. It has vivid musical imagery, calls
for pianistic virtuosity, and remains exciting after repeated performances.
Indeed, her performance justified her opinion of the work, and also raised hopes
that in time she will treat us to the work of American composers such as Bolcom
and Liebermann, or Europeans such as Messiaen and Ligeti. Vine’s first sonata
reveals great imaginative affinity with the piano, and Yang gave it a committed
and masterful presentation. Structurally, the first movement begins and ends
quietly, with big dramatic sections between, while the second movement is a
mirror image, beginning and ending with a scherzo ostinato (apart from a
brief coda recalling the start of the first movement), with a quiet section in
the middle. A unifying factor of parts of the two movements appeared to be a
fascination with the sound of cathedral bells, and this taken together with a
resemblance of the quiet section of the second movement to
La Cathédrale Engloutie, and some of
the piano figurations, conjured up the image of a muscular Debussy, or “Debussy
of the Outback”. The main idea of the first movement came across well, with a
long melody in the right hand developing greater elaboration over bass chords,
leading to varied episodes including the bells and a quiet melody with short
scale decorations, before the original idea returns to its origins and closes
with some harmonics. The moto perpetuo effect of the second movement was
delightful, with its light touch and jagged rhythms, and this led to bells with
rushing scales, and the submerged cathedral, before a richly emotional melody
emerged over bass chords held with the sostenuto pedal. After the return
of the ostinato and more drama, Yang was to be seen with arms
outstretched to top and bottom of the keyboard before a rumbling began to emerge
from the deep bass, leading to the coda and its quiet meditation on the start of
the whole work, ending with a few notes at the very bottom of the keyboard, and
then the very top.
Ms. Yang concluded her
program with a full-bodied and strongly-characterized performance of Schumann’s
Carnaval, Op.9. The opening Préambule
began with rich chords and sturdy dotted rhythm, and passed through nice waltzes
to its stirring climax, aided by the two occurrences of 4-in-a-bar.
Pierrot had good contrasts, and
Arlequin pretty skips and
hesitations. The Valse Noble was fine
in the broad outer sections although losing its way a little in the middle,
while the groups of 5 and 7 notes in the pensive Eusebius were beautifully done,
and the impulsive nature of Florestan
was finely caught. The quietest parts of
Coquette and Réplique could have
been a shade more delicate, but the Dancing Letters danced beautifully, and the
dotted rhythms of Chiarina were given
the full passionato treatment due to Clara Wieck, later to become
Schumann’s wife. The homage to Chopin was as moving as ever, especially in the
pp echo, and Estrella was
particularly good in the syncopated middle section.
Reconnaissance had a beautiful bounce
to the repeated notes, and excellent legato in the middle section, while
Pantalon et Colombine had a nice
contrast between the two characters. The
Valse Allemande had the right lilt and hesitation, with a fine drive to the
finish. Paganini was big and vital, Aveu
was moving with its soft flow, Promenade
was just right and Pause had a fine
warm bass under the arpeggios, setting the stage for the magnificent finale of
the Davidsbündler marching against
the Philistines, with irresistible momentum.
Another standing ovation,
modestly acknowledged, led to an outstanding encore – Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody
No. 6, which began well with rich bass and delicate treble, and got even better
as it progressed through idiomatic rhythms, the tenor tune in the minor, and
plummy staccato, to the rapid repeated notes and stirring bravura of the climax
– an inspired performance, with the spirit of Liszt hovering nearby.
[David Beech, a serious clarinetist, a significant
amateur pianist, and a music lover of uncommon taste and refinement, is a
frequent contributor as a guest reviewer in this column.]
