To liven things up at Hope College, and also to encourage my students, I
write reviews of their performances and post them on my door. A collection
has amassed over the years, and now my door is nearly out of space! Below
are some samples; all were used with the permission of the respective students.
Enjoy!
Also: enjoy my program
notes from my faculty recital on March 1, 2009.
MUSIC REVIEW: SARAH BROWN
by Andrew Le
November 21, 2008: Public anticipation for Sarah Brown's junior flute recital
ran sky-high. Wait...junior recital? What? It's not even
a senior recital. But it was her 21st birthday, and she gave the recital
on the 21st of November; how often does that get to happen? Not only
this, but Sarah just happens to be among the most intensely popular students
on campus. Who doesn't love Sarah Brown?
Feel the love, folks. This universal, pangaeatic love for the Sarah
of all Browns was evident in the sheer number of people who attended her
concert. Not just Hope peeps, either -- practically half the town of
Flushing (her place of upbringing) drove over in the cold and snow, not to
mention peeps from other towns all across Michigan. No joke: this girl
has a fanbase worthy of Eddie Van Halen's envy. This writer could learn
a thing or two from Miss Brown.
(Waitaminute. People still go to concerts? What? Concerts?
What's that? Wouldn't you rather be playing frolf, or inebriating yourself
at Stein Night? What? Concerts? Wichers and Dimnent has
been devoid of students for every other concert I've seen this year...what?
Students actually went to Sarah's concert? What? Concerts are
actually supposed to be attended? What? But concerts are the
sphinx of a Hope musical education; there's sort of a requirement that students
should go, and most students meet that requirement, but those who do just
achieve the minimum, and it doesn't really say anywhere that concerts are
actually (believe it or not) such an essential part of one's musical (or
non-musical, if you're a premedical student like John Slonkerdoot) education
and development? What? Sarah had legions of students at her concert?
How did this happen? Did an Alberta Clipper hit the banks of Hell?
Lake Effect in the Ninth Circle? What?)
I'll spare you the gory details. I will not be going through Miss Brown's
individual recital selections and bore the reader to utter death. Just
allow me to say this: the importance of one's stage presence and the effect
of the performer's positive artistic stage energy could not possibly have
been more evident in this recital. Sure, there were some missed notes,
but when isn't there? Paganini had to sell his soul to Satan to get
all the notes, and no one at Hope ain't gonna do that. Sure, she ran
out of breath at times, and, sure, sometimes things were just too fast.
(Prokofiev rolled over in his grave wondering why on earth he hadn't marked
his tempos that much faster. Why play his Flute Sonata in 25 minutes
if Miss Brown can do it in a staggering, record-setting 19?) As always,
Miss Brown's programmatic selections set the par of excellence in terms of
range of style and creativity, starting with the music of Caplet (brings
to mind my favorite photo of Debussy, who happens to be arm-in-arm with Caplet...and
no, neither of them were gay. Sorry to disappoint.) to Varese to Bach
to this Gigue by this Jean-Maire LeClair-dude. Certainly not your peanut-butter-and-jam
recital of standard composers, which is to be madly applauded.
But most deserving of our unending applause and admiration was Miss Brown's
strong, confident, charismatic, ineffably inimitable presence on stage.
That stride with that smile could turn even the worst performance into a
Grammy.
Most happy of all was me, who had anticipated missing part or all of the
Prokofiev due to a scheduled rehearsal at 7:00PM, exactly one hour after
the start of Sarah's concert. The initial estimated running time of
her concert was one hour and ten-to-fifteen minutes. However, the final
note of her Prokofiev Sonata was exactly at 6:51PM, which elated me.
Not sure how Prokofiev felt in his grave, or how Caplet, Varese, Bach, and
Gigue-dude felt in their respective graves, but who cares? I got to
my rehearsal on time, heard the fastest Prokofiev I'd ever heard in my life,
and was in a state of sheer happiness. AL
* * * * *
MUSIC REVIEW: SAM ADAMS
by Andrew Le
Venerable pianist and senior at Hope College, Samuel
B. Adams, gave another stupendous recital on the eve of Friday, October 26.
One may recall the powerhouse concert Adams gave last year at Hope that left
the small audience (thanks to Nykerk Song) speechless and stupefied.
Tonight’s concert was exponentially better, something thought to be impossible
after last year’s remarkable achievement. Adams opened with a stylistically
elegant yet personably unique rendition of Mozart’s F major Sonata, K. 332;
the utter refinement of the first movement, the long, buttery cantabile
phrases of the second movement, and the flawless virtuosity of the final movement
left little to be desired. Most impressive, however, was Adams’ ability
to make this Old Horse in the piano repertoire sound like something completely
new. Adams approached this piece with a sound synthesis of intellect
and passion.
Another Old Horse, Bach’s A minor English Suite, followed
the Mozart on tonight’s program. Again, the freshness of Adams’ interpretation
was to be noted. Every crystal-clear sixteenth note in his Prélude
was full of driven vitality; the Allemande and Sarabande brooded with antique
sadness. Adams’ formidable musical intellect shined like a star in this
Bach, and, in the same vein as the old Bach masters like Gould and Schiff,
allowed the genius and power of Bach’s writing to be utterly apparent.
This is high praise, indeed.
Chopin and Bartók followed the Bach and drove
the recital to an explosive conclusion. The Third Ballade had organic
life and breath and shape, timed so proportionately perfectly that the final
minutes literally stole the audience’s breath. The Bartók Sonata
was primal and ravaging, cold and stark, and played to the hilt (even if
it was a little fast and hectic). Those familiar with the piano repertoire
are well aware of the enormous technical challenges this piece presents; many
dare not touch it. Adams not only conquered it, but stamped it with
his inimitable “Sam Adams” trademark of unique intellectuality and passion.
Adams is off to graduate school next year for continued
study in piano performance, and even though this is doubtless his path of
destiny, his powerhouse pianism – not to mention his inimitable smile – will
be dearly missed on Hope’s campus.
* * * * *
MUSIC REVIEW: EMILY CHAPMAN
by Andrew Le
October 26, 2007. To schedule a show on the same eve as an Adams recital
is hard nerves indeed, but Hope pianist and social phenomenon Emily Chapman
was more than up to the task. (Note: It was revealed later that Chapman
had scheduled her recital first, but, well, whatever.) Winner of
last year’s prestigious Concerto-Aria Competition, Chapman opened the eight-o’clock
concert with near-perfect rendition of Bach’s elegant G major French Suite.
Chapman’s Bach was so perfect in its formal and acoustic conception that
it brought to mind images of antique Bernini sculptures: every cure so painstakingly
carved and molded that even its inexorable predictability can easily be forgiven.
Chapman’s hallmark Bach sound never fails to please.
Beethoven’s Andante Favori rarely appears
on today’s programs. The original slow movement of the famed Waldstein
Sonata, this long movement can easily induce yawns in an audience, especially
in the wrong hands. Well, Chapman certainly has the right hands.
Sweet, but not too sugary, Chapman’s Beethoven was more akin to a finely understated
European coffeetable confection than American Candy Corn. Absolutely
wonderful.
Understatement is an amiable idiosyncrasy of Chapman’s
formidable pianism, and she also applies it to the two Chopin pieces on tonight’s
program, the Nocturne, Op. 15 no. 2, and Impromptu in A-flat major, Op. 9.
Here, however, I yearned for more passionate and hot-blooded lines; the elegant
calculability of her Bach does not render itself effective in Chopin, which
beckons spontaneity. Nevertheless, one can barely go wrong with an underspoken
and over-elegant Chopin, as the enthusiastic applause of her audience attested.
Chapman closed her short program with Debussy’s Estampes.
The first piece in this set, Pagodes, was freshly learnt; this terribly
complex piece was performed flawlessly by Chapman. Its extreme sensuality
(one can almost taste the warmth of skin under Chapman’s exquisite touch)
was injected with a dose of thick liquor: Gamelan music (which Pagodes
is supposedly modeled after) needs to move more quickly. La Soiree
dans Grenade was also incredibly sensual and very, very slow, as attested
to by the unstoppable fidgeting of the sorority girls sitting nearby.
That fact, however, ought to be taken with a grain of salt. (Grin.)
It was as if the music was played in so refined a manner that the delicate
thread of attention became easily broken. Jardins sous la pluie,
the final movement of Estampes and the concluding piece on Chapman’s
recital, was again so ineffably refined; so much so that was more akin to
an autumn sprinkle rather than an April deluge. Nonetheless, Chapman’s
immaculate presentation bodes well to a doubtlessly successful future, and
leaves the listener insatiably thirsty to hear more…which we will, next year,
in her senior recital.
* * * * *
MUSIC REVIEW: KARA SCHEUERMAN
by Andrew Le
Review – Five Stars (out of five)
November 10, 2007: It is rare at Hope to have a
student from Chiang Mai, Thailand; it is even more special to have this student
be studying music. Lucky us! Scheuerman’s rich cultural background
and her intimidating Minesweeper scores, however, give little (if any) indication
of her tremendous singing abilities, as her audience witnessed on the evening
of November 10 in Wichers Sanitarium.
Scheuerman opened with a beautiful and effective rendition
of three of Hindemith’s Nine English Songs, composed in 1944.
The pure timbre of her voice became even more apparent, however, in Hymns
to the Holy Trinity that followed. Composed by Henry Lawes (1596-1662),
these elegant English settings were just as elegantly accompanied by Jane
Bosko on the harpsichord.
Jumping ahead to the Romantic era, Scheuerman performed
a particularly moving rendition of four Brahms Lieder from the composer’s
Op. 107. Her love and immense admiration for Brahms was never clearer,
adroitly handling the quick changes in mood and text with aplomb aplenty.
The program then continued to grow further in its variedness with a technically
resplendent performance of Granados’ Amor y odio, showing off Scheuerman’s
delicious mastery of the Spanish language.
For me, though, the heart of Scheuerman’s program was
her scintillating performance of Carrie Jacobs-Bond’s Half-Minute Songs.
Here, Scheuerman’s poise truly burst upon the stage, captivating us with her
ineffable charm and wit; the effect she had on us was eerily akin to that
of the unofficial spokesperson on her ubiquitous recital posters.
And that spokesperson happened to be Audrey Hepburn.
And so strong was the effect on me that I, admittedly,
zoned out for the rest of the program. However, I do remember being
asked to stand for her final number, an arrangement of the Anthem for the
King of Thailand, His Highness King Bhumiphon Adunyadet. Brilliant,
I thought, absolutely brilliant: a guaranteed standing ovation.
Not that Scheuerman wouldn’t have received one, anyway.
MUSIC REVIEW: LIBBY SKAFF-JANKOWSKI
by Andrew Le
November 16, 2007: Libby Skaff-Jankowski strutted
onto the stage of Wichers Auditorium in a rich red dress that so stunned the
audience that the welcoming applause didn’t even commence until she assumed
her place on stage.
And then she sang. She sang in a way that commanded
the attention of everyone within earshot; her robust, resplendent tone opened
up the heavens. Skaff-Jankowski opened the concert with a set of three
songs: Dvorak’s I Will Sing New Songs (from Biblical Songs,
Op. 99); Melchior Hoffman’s Shlage doch, gewünschte Stunde; and
Mozart’s Smanie implacabili from Cosi fan tutte. An excellent
opening set, Skaff-Jankowski did a remarkable job of assimilating the wide
range of moods: beauty, poise, restraint, reverence, quietude. Nothing
was left to be desired.
A set of two Debussy Melodies then followed.
Skaff-Jankowski’s performance of Romance can only be described as delicious,
and she was exquisitely and sensitively accompanied by Chris Turbessi, brother
of Joe and one of Hope’s greatest talents. Following Romance
was Green, from Ariettes oublieés. Verlaine,
the poet of Ariette’s lyrics, titled this in English (along with Spleen,
also a part of this set) because he took a liking to their sound. Debussy
referred to this pair of songs as “aquarelles” – watercolors. Skaff-Jankowski
and Turbessi did a most remarkable job painting the orchestration in Green;
the color was not only felt, but smelled and tasted. This is one of
my favorite songs of any language: I listen all the time to the recording
by Dawn Upshaw and James Levine. That evening, Skaff-Jankowski and Turbessi
made just as many goosebumps rise. Bravo.
Skaff-Jankowski went on to prove absolute mastery in
the German realm with a set of three Richard Strauss songs. Again,
Skaff-Jankowski’s dynamic range and emotional color left little to be desired;
her tone production and breath control was simply life-affirming. Skaff-Jankowski
proved in Für fünfzehn Phennige that she indeed
had complete and utter control of the humorous end of the emotional spectrum
just as adroitly. Allerseelen was rich and robust in tone, swirling
with thick and delicious expression.
Aaron Copland’s Twelve Poems of
Emily Dickinson embodied the widest and perhaps most difficult
range of expression on the program: confidence, doubt, reflection, hope and
hopelessness, impatience and confusion, subtlety and obnoxiousness.
All these moods were uncannily captured by Skaff-Jankowski and Turbessi.
Special props go out to Turbessi, who effortlessly dealt with a particularly
virtuosic piano part.
The two closed the recital with Mozart’s Laudamus
te from the Mass in C minor. Skaff-Jankowski’s voice soared
smoothly over a crisp piano accompaniment. Her voice was like a splendid
and powerful light. This was music to brighten up our world, and tonight’s
glorious performance also did nothing less than that.
* * * * *
MUSIC REVIEW: YES, SAM ADAMS IS HIS NAME, AND HIS PLAYING FAR FROM TAME
by Andrew Le
November 6, 2006: Pianist Sam Adams has come a long, long way since his
Bartók Rondos and Mozart Sonatas of yesteryear. The accomplished
pianist gave a heck of a recital on Saturday evening in a frigid, unheated
Dimnent Chapel on the campus of Hope College in Holland, Michigan.
Things heated up quickly, however, as Adams opened the concert with an eloquent
Beethoven Sonata in F-sharp, Op. 78. Adams’ characterization of this
somewhat enigmatic and rarely-heard piece was flawless; the first movement
spoke of delight, contentment, and serenity. Adams’ quirky second movement
was what won me over, though, with its subtle (and at times, not-so-subtle)
humor. He was utterly faithful to Beethoven’s score, and handled the
numerous technical challenges with aplomb.
What followed the Beethoven truly blew me away, like the guy sitting in
front of the loudspeakers in the Maxell blank-tape commercials. Serenade
de Don Juan, the last piece of the triptych Masques by Polish composer
Karol Szymanowski, has virtually disappeared from pianists’ repertoire in
recent time, and the reason for this is clear: its ferocious difficulty is
downright frightening. Once glance at the score induces hallucination
and nausea. Adams not only conquered this monster of a score, he dove
into the music like a demon. This movement was dedicated to the eminent
Arthur Rubinstein, who probably would have gone weak-kneed had he heard Adams’
powerful rendition.
One certainly needs a rest after experiencing the gospel of Don Juan
according to Adams, and Adams satiated this need with a delicious interpretation
of Poulenc’s A-flat major Intermezzo. Swift and fleeting in his fingers,
Adams transformed the damp, dark Dimnent into a bustling Parisian sidewalk
café.
The brave Adams closed the evening with a heart-wrenching performance of
the monumental Fantasie, Op. 17 of Robert Schumann. A graduate-level
work of music, the difficult Fantasie gives even seasoned veterans
plenty of problems. In addition, its colossal length (30 difficult minutes)
tests the patience of audiences. Nevertheless, the hardy Adams kept
our attention to the very last note, which, quite appropriately, happened
to coincide with the chimes from the Dimnent bells. I found out later
that this was intentional. Charming.
Attendance at this extraordinary event was somewhat disappointing, but not
surprising considering that the largest event in the history of Earth, Nykerk
Song, was the same evening. Fortunately for us, however, Adams is still
a young Junior, which means that we can all enjoy his Senior Recital next
year. I impatiently wait with anticipation; let’s just hope Adams schedules
it not on landmark Hope College days…like Nykerk Song, or even worse, the
Pull.
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