|
RECITAL REVIEW
December 3, 2004
|
By Heuwell Tircuit
Expectations are one thing; reality, sometimes very different. Both were on hand Friday evening in Old First Church as Russian-American pianist Sergey Schepkin played to an adoring audience. Expectation ran high for me, and the disappointment was crushing. The event left me wondering: Why? Why any of it?
The first surprise came with the program. Schepkin has made a considerable reputation as a Bach specialist, and a Bach Partita had been announced to open the recital. But that was dropped in favor of Handel's keyboard Suite No. 5 in E Major, HWV 430. The remainder of the announced program appeared: Schumann's Kreisleriana, Op. 16, and Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition. Considering the performances, I again wonder: Why program things so clearly beyond one's reach?
Schepkin's numerous recordings of major Bach works have been highly praised in many places, and rightly so. As encore, he offered the Aria from Bach's "Goldberg” Variations. That was beauteous — finally, something to support Schepkin's lofty reputation and some reason for his steamer trunk full of awards and prizes. His encore was delicately lyrical, demure in phrasing and tempo, musically satisfying as a pianistic experience.
But as to the rest? Madonna! Perhaps Schepkin was suffering from severe jet lag, or a tragic romance gone wrong. He does teach music history at the New England Conservatory, so it occured to me that he might not actually be intending a recital, but rather a demonstration of the worst extreme self-indulgence of 19th- and early 20th-Century performers. That's possible... but if so, why? If a survey of wretched excess is what he had in mind, the evening was brilliant, for he spared the composers nothing. Bombastic dynamics, rhythmic instability, perverse tempos, pedal smearing, and retarded cadences elongated like Wagnerian Second Acts. Such playing stands unique in my experience. Handel's Suite came across as a kind of Handelian cartoon of languor, punctuated by outbursts of hysteria. The finale variation movement, the famous "Harmonious Blacksmith" set, assumed the mantle of something akin to Liszt. The fast variations were taken at breakneck speed, but more of the notes and less fooling around with dynamics would have been appreciated. This Handel Suite was primarily intended for home use in a more or less intimate setting. Trying to force it into something like an "Appassionata" status is ridiculous.
Schumann's and Mussorgsky's Suites fared no better, often delving into raw unmusical show biz antics. He did not have large candelabra at either end of the keyboard, but that seemed about the only restraint. The Schumann was often downright ugly, with no element of repose or reflection. Mussorgsky's "Pictures" seemed to be reaching out for "1812” Overture artillery effects. Quiet moments were slam-dunked, appropriate dynamics ignored, and all matters of taste thrown overboard like useless ballast, as the score's pitch and yaw floundered in sentimental murk I have tried unsuccessfully to come up with some explanation. How any reasonable performer could indulge in such outlandish and obviously egotistic displays in public is astounding. It was like the sheer silliness of the old days of John Cage's Happenings, where a bunch of musicians did the nuttiest things they could think of on stage, while keeping a straight face.
(Heuwell Tircuit, composer, performer and writer, was chief writer for Gramophone Japan and for 21 years a music reviewer for the SF Chronicle, previously for the Chicago American and Asahi Evening News.)
|
