Tuesday May 5th, 2015 - Three rising stars in the firmament of classical music took the stage at Alice Tully Hall as Young Concert Artists presented their 2014-2015 season-finale gala concert. With the Orchestra of St. Luke's under the baton of Gerard Schwarz, concertos by Mozart, Sibelius, and Tchaikovsky were on the programme.
The evening was deeply enjoyable both for its present musical rewards and for what it augurs for the future: the three young soloists - aged 24, 25, and 19 respectively - will undoubtedly be filling concert halls around the world for years to come, winning new audiences for classical music with their artistry, virtuosity, and personal charisma.
Let us immediately hail Susan Wadsworth, founder and director of Young Concert Artists, for her dedication to classical music and for all she has done - and continues to do - in bringing young artists to the forefront. Joined by Gala Chairman Paul Sekhri onstage for her opening remarks, Susan introduced the evening's Guests of Honor, Mary Tanner and Frederick Frank, who are tireless advocates for classical music and musicians. They spoke of the importance of great music in our daily lives, and of the discipline and passion of the three artists we were about to hear.
The Korean pianist Ji then took the stage to play Mozart's piano concerto #23. Ji came to New York City from his native land at the age of nine, and a year later he was the youngest pianist ever to win the New York Philharmonic's Young Artist Competition; this led to his debut with the great orchestra under Kurt Masur a year later. Dressed all in Summer-white on this balmy Spring evening, Ji most assuredly won an army of new admirers with his playing tonight.
Gerard Schwarz - who has given me so many wonderful musical memories from his years as director of the Mostly Mozart Festival - and the Orchestra of St. Luke's provided a vivid musical tapestry against which each succeeding soloist was able to make the optimum impression. The orchestra, whose depth of tone gives the illusion of being a larger ensemble than its numbers indicate, immediately made their mark in the long introduction to the Mozart. A word of praise also for Jon Manasse, whose clarinet continually allured the ear throughout the Mozart concerto.
From Ji's first entry, his playing in the opening Allegro showed both lovely lyricism and an air of impetuosity. He immediately drew us in, with many subtle touches throughout this opening movement; the cadenza, with its cascading scalework, was artfully laced with introspective moments.
The meditative opening solo of the Adagio leads to a doleful theme from the orchestra. A second piano solo is interrupted by an uplifting orchestral passage which turns courtly; and then another piano solo, which seems almost tragic and is taken up by the lamenting orchestra. Throughout this Adagio, Ji showed consummate understanding of the emotional nuances of the music.
Then there's an immediate launch into the concluding Allegro assai: this movement in an exuberant antidote to the Adagio's seriousness, and Ji's brilliant execution - wonderfully abetted by Maestro Schwarz and Company - sent the concerto sailing on to its spirited conclusion. The pianist was very warmly hailed by the full house; moments later he caused a stir when he came out and sat in front of me for the ensuing Sibelius.
Violinist Benjamin Beilman is a particular favorite of mine; thru his performances with Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center I have come to both admire and respect him for his musicality and the sincerity of his playing. (Ben will next be at Tully Hall on May 15th with a stellar group of fellow artists playing 'Spanish Dances'. Information here.)
Tonight Benjamin Beilman's playing of the Sibelius marked his Lincoln Center concerto debut. He could hardly have asked for a more auspicious setting, a more congenial maestro, nor a finer ensemble to join him in what amounted to a triumph. Right from the concerto's shimmering, ecstatic start, Ben and the St. Luke's players found a most fortuitous melding of musical minds.
The composer's deft notion to add timpani to the mix makes for an added musical dimension, a sense of mystery. The violinist's soaring highs against the darkish orchestral palette were marvelous to experience, as was his playing of the poignantly familiar melodic theme and his mastery of the long passage of extraordinary trills.
Dancing woodwind themes are an added cause for delight, before Ben launched the great cadenza with playing that was passionate and soulful. The audience, keenly attentive, were transported by the movement's final great melodic flights, so rapturously played. And just before the end, a last sustained miracle of a trill.
The Adagio di molto provides the soloist with one opportunity after another to plumb the depths of melodic passion; here Ben Beilman was at his most persuasive, with thematic transitions so subtly and admirably delivered. A great sense of longing wells up. And yet again, trills carry the soloist heavenward, only to make an arcing descent before soaring again; here the violinist's control and his ability to sustain great phrases was amply evident.
A galloping pace sets the final movement in motion; virtuosic violin interjections abound. The music takes on a dance-like sway and as Ben Beilman tosses one jeweled phrase after another into the air, we are reminded of what a taxing piece this is to play...and how the young violinist seemed to revel in it. The audience were clearly enthralled by both the music and Ben's playing of it. He took a solo bow to a standing ovation, and then was re-called yet again, with Maestro Schwarz and the ensemble basking in the afterglow.
When the Washington Post praised George Li's "staggering technical prowess, (a) sense of command and depth of expression,” they weren't exaggerating. Small of stature, the 19-year-old pianist took Alice Tully Hall by storm this evening with a splendid performance of the Tchaikovsky piano concerto #1.
This concerto, now recognized as one of the greatest and most popular pieces of music ever written, was surprisingly disdained by the St Petersburg musical establishment and thus the composer arranged to have the work premiered in Boston, with Hans von Bülow (of Wagnerian fame) at the keyboard. The concerto was very enthusiastically received, with von Bülow playing it 14 times in the ensuing 19 days at various American venues.
Tonight it was easy to understand why the concerto seized the public's imagination right from the start. Mr. Li's sense of grandeur was apparent as he launched the upward-leaping series of piano chords against the orchestra's spasciously romantic theme: an iconic moment in classical music. Later, the young pianist showed his lightness of touch in a playful theme where he dazzled us as two flutes lent sweet song to the mix. The music builds to a tumult, followed by a sort of mini-cadenza. The composer's Sleeping Beauty is evoked in a passage of flutes entwined with sparking piano phrases. A militant interlude, the a stormy start to another cadenza which turns pensive. Big surge of throbbing melody leads to an oboe solo and to yet another piano cadenza, and then to a high, magical motif.
The opening of the second movement was spoilt by a cellphone going off, but the mood was soon re-established by soloist and orchestra. After a forlorn melody from the piano, the movement contains a light-hearted central romp.
Propulsive energy marks the start of the finale, the orchestra sounding great and grand. There's a waltzy mood which develops, with superb interjections from Mr. Li's keyboard. And then a monumental piano theme, epic and resounding, leading to a magnificent finish. The audience could not contain their enthusiasm, bursting into applause before the final note had sounded. The entire audience were swept onto their feet, greeting Mr. Li with an avalanche of applause and bravos.
Feeling the sense of elation that great music gives us, I headed out, passing thru the Tully promenade where beautifully-set tables and the dapper young wait-staff awaited the gala-party guests. And this reminded me of the great generosity of those who continue to support classical music, dance, and art at a time when they are most needed. These essential 'angels' make evenings like tonight possible, and make our lives ever-brighter thru their dedicated support of the arts. Let's applaud them, just as we applaud the artists.