Frederic Chiu Delivers Unforgettable Recital
TUESDAY EVENING’s International Piano Series recital at Memminger Auditorium was a truly special occasion. Not only did we hear a fascinating and brilliantly executed program from Frederic Chiu—one of America’s finest and most-recorded pianists—but the evening marked the inauguration of the College of Charleston’s marvelous new Yamaha CFX concert grand piano: the gift of a longtime IPS series benefactor who wishes to remain anonymous.
I thought I knew what to expect, being a proud owner of several of Chiu’s remarkable Prokofiev recordings (his complete Chopin Mazurkas are also enshrined on my iPod). But nothing could’ve prepared me for what the evening’s substantial (and fortunate) crowd was treated to.
Chiu—as he eloquently explained in pre-concert remarks to his audience—offered a highly unusual and carefully chosen program designed to demonstrate to his listeners the varied approaches to piano technique, sound, and effect as practiced by five different composers who are counted among western music’s keyboard giants.
Until Frederic Chopin came along, piano Etudes were regarded as mechanical and soulless practice pieces designed to develop a pianist’s technique (Czerny or Hanon, anyone?). But Chopin’s 24 Etudes brought a level of elegant musicality and emotional appeal to the form that made them suitable for concert performance for the first time. Chiu chose six of these highly challenging pieces, in part to demonstrate the ability of the piano—despite its prevailing reputation as a percussion instrument—to achieve a more lyrical “singing” effect.
And nowhere was such lovely songful effect better heard than in the first of them: the famous “Aeolian Harp” etude, with its smooth, sweet melody floating over a lush bed of swirling arpeggios. To my ears, the most remarkable of the set was one of the lesser-known etudes: a tricky broken-chord study (Op. 10, No. 11) that most pianists play as if to say “see how fast I can do it” to their audiences. But under Chiu’s hands, the message was more like “see how much more graceful and appealing this one can sound when you slow it down and add a touch of rubato.”
Indeed, his interpretation revealed the lyrical side of this piece to me for the first time. After all, there was the later Op. 10, No. 4 number to demonstrate his blazing speed and accuracy. And Chiu delivered the remaining examples with endearing sensitivity, interpretive originality, and stupefying technique.
From there it was on to the much more atmospheric sound-world of French impressionism, requiring an entirely different approach to piano playing. The often clear, singing lines of Chopin gave way here to diffuse and cloudy effects (LOTS of pedal) that paint “tone-pictures” of particular natural scenes or phenomena. The first of the two works was Claude Debussy’s “Bells Heard through the Leaves” (from Images , Book II): a trancelike sonic “vision” of exactly what the title suggests.
Chiu achieved marvelously distinct contrasts between the work’s pervasive drifting, autumnal aura and the more vivid tolling of distant bells. He also rose admirably to the considerable demands of Maurice Ravel’s shimmering “A Boat on the Ocean” (from Miroirs), evoking the varied states and moods of the sea. For me, this was the recital’s first-half highlight: Chiu seemed to brush aside the piece’s myriad technical demands, while delivering bewitching musical imagery that fired our collective imagination. I wonder if I’ve ever heard this music with such an infinitely varied array of tonal effects—even in the most delicate quiet passages.
Chiu took us to intermission with two examples of Sergey Prokofiev’s music (he’s a renowned Prokofiev specialist)—illustrating that composer’s often humorous bent, as well as his hallmark percussive piano style. Chiu first gave us his own sparkling transcription of the composer’s popular orchestral suite to Lieutenant Kije, Prokofiev’s like-titled film score, bringing out the music’s satirical mood and charming effect perfectly. Then he brought the house down with a tense and driven rendition of the near-violent Toccata, Op. 11: one of Prokofiev’s first real masterpieces, as well as a work that helped give rise to his early reputation as the “bad boy” of Russian music.
After halftime, Chiu returned with a true concert rarity: Franz Liszt’s amazing transcription of Ludwig van Beethoven’s ever-popular Symphony No. 5. Again, our artist gave us an interesting and informative verbal introduction to the piece. Unlike many of the flashy transcriptions that Liszt used to show off his unequalled virtuosity in concert, this one reflects Liszt’s more altruistic motive of honoring and popularizing the original composer. Thus, while Liszt added a few bravura touches here and there, his transformation remains remarkably true to Beethoven’s original musical design and intent.
Still, any conscientious keyboard reduction of complex orchestral music often makes for awkward and difficult going for the pianist—and so it was here. But Chiu—throughout the piece’s grueling 30-minute course—delivered brilliant and insightful playing, offering a rare and novel way to experience this very great music. Clearly exhausted when it was over, he still had enough energy left to deliver a sweet and affecting rendition of Debussy’s popular Claire de Lune as an encore.
Yamaha has long been producing entirely respectable concert instruments. But the College’s new CFX concert grand—a model introduced just last year—is the end result of Yamaha’s 20-year campaign to develop a largely handmade piano that rivals (or exceeds) the mechanical and musical qualities of the industry’s finest brands, like Steinway or Bösendorfer. While I haven’t yet gotten my hands on it (I can hardly wait!), it sounded absolutely marvelous under Chiu’s sensitive fingers. Its rich sound projected beautifully, even at the softest pianissimos—coming across in an incredibly varied palette of tone-colors. The bass end was full and emphatic, while balancing beautifully with the upper registers. This is indeed a superb new instrument that any keyboard artist should relish the chance to play.
Mind you, Enrique Graf’s ever-dependable International Piano Series has—for two decades now—consistently brought us magnificent recitals from many of the world’s most exalted keyboard artists (like Earl Wild, Leon Fleischer, Abbey Simon, Jorge Luis Prats, etc.). But this absolutely unforgettable evening offered a rare combination of artistic excellence and an unusual and fascinating program. Add the bonus of hearing a true master have his way with a glorious new instrument, and the end result was one of the three or four finest recitals among the many dozens I’ve heard in this series over the decade I’ve been covering it.
Bravo, Maestro. Please don’t forget your legion of new fans in Charleston.
Check our calendar for the next concert in the International Piano Series.
