Its Beethoven’s birthday, but a pity he did
not write any keyboard work for the left hand. That would otherwise have been
a no-brainer for this very rare and unusual recital by Gary Graffman, one of
the original OYAPs (Outstanding Young American Pianists) of the 1950s and 60s.
Graffman is now 78, but judging by his still acute musical mind and a mean
southpaw, only qualifies him to be an OAP.
I must admit a certain fondness for
Graffman, the sort of reverence a grandson has for his wizened and illustrious
grandfather. It was Graffman’s recording of Rachmaninoff’s Second Piano
Concerto (with Bernstein & NYPO) that got me totally and hopelessly
hooked to classical music. As a 14-year-old, these things mattered a great
deal, and the name of Graffman became an icon for me, as ABBA, Bee Gees and
Olivia Newton John were for my contemporaries. His Rach 2 –
where he spreads the opening chords on the left hand - will forever be my
benchmark. His genuine heart-felt gravitas makes a mockery of the faux profound posturings of Lang Lang, who incidentally happens to be
his most famous student.
Enough of reminiscences, now for the
present. The recital began appropriately with Bach’s Chaconne in D
minor (from the Violin Partita No.2) in the left hand transcription
by Brahms. One needs to totally forget the much-more familiar Bach-Busoni
conflation, which makes significant departures from the original violin work.
Brahms is far more faithful to Bach, with the piano taking on the single line
most of the time, chords for triple and quadruple stoppings, and arpeggios for
the illusion of polyphony.
Played straight, it can be a quite tedious
15-minute affair (not unlike the piano version of the Beethoven Violin
Concerto). Graffman is however endowed with the considerable skills of a
master storyteller. His projection was exemplary, with accents on just the
right places. Minor flubs are incidental but he mostly kept the listener
transfixed. Despite Brahms’ craftsmanship, one does however miss the violin,
but not the inherent intonation problems.
No such worries for the Erich Korngold Suite for Piano & Strings Op.23, which was described by Dr Andrew
Freris (Chairman of the Chopin Society of HK) as the “jewel in the crown” of
the festival. He’s totally right, and the initial impression one gets is, “Why
haven’t we heard this often enough?” The reason is simple: there aren’t so
many great left hand pianists in circulation. Graffman’s fellow OYAP Leon
Fleisher recorded it with Yo-Yo Ma and Co. on Sony Classical but that curate’s
egg of a CD has been deleted. However a live performance – like the proverbial
bird in the hand - beats any studio recording any day.
The Korngold is a fantastic piece of music.
Despite its pretensions to propriety and seriousness, there is a whiff of
decadence about it, not unlike Fritz Kreisler’s only String Quartet.
And there is no escaping the Viennese schmaltz or the Hollywoodisms that were
to define Korngold’s later career. The Prélude opens with an impressive cadenza-like solo from the piano, leading into a fugal theme
(D-C#-F-E), reminiscent to the B-A-C-H theme that composers so love. Up to
this point, one could excuse the work as an academic imitation of past
classics but who could escape the sweep of the strings and effulgent
harmonies?
The palm court orchestras of Vienna are
unleashed in the ensuing Waltz, a simple three-note motif (F#-E-G) that
is just waiting to plant a kiss on the face, but it is the shock factor of the
appropriately titled Groteske that makes the work memorable. Furioso paradise. Its raining ostinatos and pelting chinoiserie (quite
apt for Hong Kong) get mixed in a totally maniacal and wild dance. The Rondo-Finale is Brahmsian in character and smiles from ear to ear.
A totally enjoyable romp, this ranks (to
this listener) as the great performance of the festival. Top marks to
Graffman for his role as soloist and leader of the band. I cannot imagine any
of the string players (two violins and cello) ever having played this weird
and wonderful work, so they must have learnt it from scratch with Graffman.
But what a performance, true testimony of a lofty kind of musicianship!
The brief second half comprised purely works
for piano left hand, but its quality rather than quantity that counted.
Beginning with Scriabin’s Andante and Nocturne Op.9, Graffman could
have infused a little more legato and tonal variation in the delivery,
but no big complaints here. The Etude in A flat by Felix Blumenfeld
(one of Horowitz’s teachers), made famous by Simon Barere’s recording, fared
better with its wistful and nostalgic melody played with a seamless and silky
touch. The passionate central section almost came apart but Graffman’s timely
rescue added to the thrill of an otherwise enthralling reading.
There were chords aplenty in Max Reger’s Romance in A flat but with no loss of its melody. The same composer’s Prelude and Fugue in E flat was little more than updated Bach, but a tour de force of contrapuntal writing that built up to a heady climax.
Then the smallish audience (Hongkongers don’t really care about true legends,
do they?) held its collective breath for two Chopin-Godowsky Études.
Twenty-two out of these 53 little devils
were written for the left hand alone, earning Leopold Godowsky the moniker of
“The Disciple of the Left Hand” (His other nickname was “Buddha”). Graffman
picked two of the most fiendish: No.13 (E flat minor, after Op.10 No.6) and
No.41 (B minor, after Op.25 No.12). Tonal beauty rather than terminal velocity
was topmost in Graffman’s agenda, and the melting central interlude of the
latter, with its inner voices yearning to emerge, came across most
beautifully. Graffman is not a speedster like a Hamelin or Libetta, but it was
the sheer humanity and musicality than shone through.
There was time for an encore, and a rather
special one to boot: Sergei Slonimsky’s left hand take on Paganini’s Caprice No.24, specially written for Graffman. While not exactly a set
of variations, its Busonian harmonies and great deal of cheek provided a witty
end to an excellent concert that won’t be easily forgotten.
Gary Graffman is truly an American Idol, no two ways about it.
By Chang Tou Liang
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