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OVERALL NOISE RATING:
2 (there was not much of an audience to make much noise)
The Noise Rating Index is a partially-objective measurement of pager and handphone blasts, 9pm and 10pm watch beeps, coughing-during-the-pianissimo-bits, intra-audience conversation and other mind-bogglingly inept noises emitted in the concert hall during actual performance of music. It is measured on a scale of 0 to 5, in increasing annoyance.
This review has been kindly sponsored by the Singapore Symphonia Co. Ltd
by Chia Han-Leon and Johann D'Souza
(Translated from the Chinese by the Editor, with much aid from the Times Advanced Chinese Dictionary).
1999 marks the 100th birth anniversary of Russian-born composer Alexander
Tcherepnin (1899-1977). Unexpectedly, two different concerts of his music
were held at the Victoria Concert Hall, which I attended.
Actually, I am
more interested in the composer's life than his music, for his relationship
with China, especially Shanghai, is worth noting.
Tcherepnin has never enjoyed much public attention; although a few works are
occasionally heard, they never really left (me) a deep impression. Then in 1989,
when I was in Europe corresponding with a Shanghai music enthusiast, the
conversation touched on Tcherepnin's Le Gouffre ballet suite. The
Chinese Central Conservatory of Music was then commemorating the 90th birth
anniversary of the composer by organising a concert of his piano works. The
concert was even broadcast 'live' on radio. My friend also mentioned Tcherepnin's relationship with Shanghai, my hometown. This piqued my curiosity.
Tcherepnin's widespread use of the 5-tone scale (pentatonic scale),
oriental style and colour, plus his self-composed Chinese name gave the
impression that he was a Chinese composer.
He graduated from the Musical Conservatory of Tiplis (Capital of Georgia, Russia, which is also the hometown of the dictator Joseph Stalin) and after the October Revolution, the young composer followed his father Nicolai (also a composer, and student of
Rimsky-Korsakov) to Paris. There, Alexander began his career as a composer as well as a pianist.
In 1934, Tcherepnin gave a performance in China, and met the Chinese pianist Li Xianmin
(Lee Hsien-Ming) in Shanghai, whom he later married. As he was by now deeply
interested in the music of China, he cancelled the rest of his concert tour
and remained there for several years. Tcherepnin became assistant to the
Minister of Culture and a professor at the Shanghai Conservatory. It was
during this time that he literally made a Chinese name for himself: Qi'er
Pin.
Tcherepnin organised many musical competitions in Shanghai which awarded high-profile prizes.
In fact, the famous Chinese composer He Lu Ding was made famous by Tcherepnin in his Chinese Piano Composition Contest. Mr. He won the First Prize with his famous piano piece "Flute of the Shepherd".
When World War II erupted in 1937, Tcherepnin moved to Paris with his wife. In 1948, he became a citizen of the USA, and between 1949-64 was a teacher at the DePaul University in Chicago. Because he studied deeply the music of Russian, Arabian and Chinese cultures, his own music was considered constantly changing and "cosmopolitan".
The Chinese music world remembers him mainly for his contributions to music education there in the 1930s, especially in Shanghai. Tcherepnin also contributed extensive research into and was a champion of Chinese music. In particular Tcherepnin did much to promote the piano music of Chinese composers. He was ultimately a composer full of love and enthusiasm.
Despite my reservations, I feel really thankful to Shui Lan for his invaluable efforts to introduce Tcherepnin's music to the world.
Tcherepnin's Fourth Symphony, composed for Charles Munch and the Boston Symphony, so impressed the conductor that he paid the composer twice his commission. So, since I didn't pay to attend this concert, I got my money's worth.
OK, sorry, that's a cruel thing to say.
At the end of the day, hearing this Symphony for the first time in my life, I could hardly make any head or tail of it. What disturbs me most is that there seems to be no sense of coherent symphonic argument. The most immediate impression is of the bright wind scoring and the composer's propensity for exposed solos. The former I think can be traced to the fact that Tcherepnin was an admirer of Prokofiev (who was Alex's father's pupil), his family was close to Rimsky-Korsakov, he moved to Paris and of course, his trademark life in (and wife from) China.
Though I could not for the life of me appreciate what is so symphonic about this approximately 28-minute Symphony, what did strike me on reflection is the skill of Tcherepnin's orchestration. There are almost no discernible melodies in the work, and the "argument" is made through very short motifs, tossed around the orchestra in loud and soft segments. The individual colours achieved within the confines of his score are vertically transparent (rather than say the horizontal transparency of Sibelius), though not exactly rich. But at the end of the work, I can only say (for myself) that there was nothing much that was memorable. Much is made in the notes about Tcherepnin's 9-tone scale, but unless someone explains to me how this contributes to the symphonic argument, I am not going to be impressed just because it is "different" in tone colour (or that Tcherepnin coined a Chinese name for himself).
There is something Neo-Classically Martinu-ian about the scoring in terms of colour and rhythm, a remark which can also be applied with reference to the Fourth Symphony. Like the latter, changes of mood occur frequently - but it is again disturbing to me because there seems no logic to it. (At least for Poulenc, whose 100th birth anniversary this month the world celebrates, the short motifs and fast-changing moods preserve a sense of coherence, even if it's for the sake of "humour"). Here in Tcherepnin's symphony, I really don't know why the moods are shifting. Again, if it is only for the sake of colour (in which case it is a question of "what"), I am not going to be convinced just like that.
The second movement Lento, dedicated to his father Nicolai Tcherepnin (also an acomplished composer), is more apparently beautiful music, at one point reminding me of the colours of Stravinsky's Firebird.
The final two movements appear to be linked. These are by far the most coherent of all the music so far, with a sense of development comprising a busy scherzo with tuba/trombone fanfares and quiet woodwind passages. The Shostakovichian momentum Tcherepnin achieves here is impressive indeed and makes a suitable end for this Tcherepnin cycle.
Nevertheless, I disclaim any expertise or complete understanding of this composer.
I suspect that the SSO probably did not make the music Tcherepninian enough. Even if there were points of remarkable technical playing (and quite a few less-than-perfect ones), ultimately the performances (especially in the symphonies) seemed more like score-reading studies in orchestral colour and instrumentation, rather than the utterance of an individual composer. But of course, I should hear more before I jump to conclusions. Perhaps the SSO musicians are simply too unfamiliar with the composer's spirit. I sincerely hope the recordings the Orchestra are making on BIS will be better.
Like the rest, this is my first time hearing a piano concerto by Tcherepnin, and the first impressions that came to my mind on hearing the first few bars were its Prokofievian qualities. Noriko Ogawa is no stranger to the shores of Singapore, having already performed Mozart’s 21st Concerto, Tchaikovsky’s First and last year Beethoven’s "Emperor Concerto" (reviewed here) with the SSO. This time round she opted to play by score and one greatly understands why this work is not only technically difficult to perform but difficult for the pianist in more ways than one. For the listener it does provide mixed reactions as well.
Noriko Ogawa possesses a phenomenal technique and with a wide repertoire, judging from her recordings. She was able to pull out most, if not all, the salient points. However I came to the conclusion that she just needed a little bit more strength, especially in the introduction when there was this lack of "kick". This concerto, just like No.5 played on Saturday, has a very percussive effect and while other composers made the piano sing, Tcherepnin used the piano more like a battering ram, emphasising its capabilities as a percussion instrument.
The word "dissonant" was the order of the day and while the composer tried to mix the consonance with the dissonance it somehow did not appeal to me in the slightest (I just felt lost and confused in a world of chaos). I somehow felt that the orchestra was a trifle too cautious and with everyone glued to their scores, the sense of spontaneity was lost. Most of the piece concentrated itself in the highest registers of the treble clef and it was here that Noriko Ogawa had to sculpt single octave notes and chords which even with the sustained pedal was not an easy task. However with her feminine charisma, some of the gentler moments (which were far and wide) did have a certain charm and beauty.
There was a cadenza in the first movement, but lashing out with literal banging on the keyboard seen in short spurts. It was actually terribly difficult to tell if a cadenza was included. Most of the audience was taken by surprise as the second movement ended at the most sudden of times. As the the final chord was struck, the crowd had just sat there still and awestruck.
Somehow I did not feel that the phrase "piano concerto" fitted the bill here. This work should have been an orchestral work with piano - that would have made more sense.
Chia Han-Leon and Johann D'Souza were the two slightly confused people at VCH. Please don't blame them.
395: 27.1.1999 ©Adrian Tan Explore the Flying Inkpot They're
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