Natalia Khoma

YES, THIS MONDAY NIGHT CONCERT at the College was about the music: in this case, a wonderful selection of “dances” by eight different composers. But it was the musicians, cellist Natalia Khoma and pianist Volodymyr Vynnitsky, who left us dazzled and on our feet. Charleston, we are lucky to have these two in our midst.

Natalia and Volodymyr hold nothing back on stage. Every drop of their inspiration, artistry, and pleasure gets handed to the audience in dramatic fashion. During the performance, I kept thinking of superlatives—lots of them. It was a visceral experience simply because their passion—nay, their hunger for—playing music is so palpable and infectious.

And sitting in the front row was the best decision I made. From eight feet away, the concert became guttural. I could hear the cello moan, groan, sigh, and wail in unison with Natalia’s every breath, movement, and facial expression. Meanwhile, the piano sang and danced along with Volodomyr’s periodic light singing, not to mention his soulful virtuosity.

Natalia brandishes her bow like a sword which she slices and slashes and tears across the strings. And her fingering is equally masterful. In the opening piece, “Requiebros” by Gaspar Cassado (1897–1966) she spent most of her time on just one string—the highest, A3. Then in the final piece, “Hungarian Rhapsody” by D. Popper (1843–1913), she did a fantastic finger slide all the way down the same string which, when her finger reached the very bottom of it, she plucked with incredible power and punctuation. It was as potent a pizzicato as you will ever hear.

Along with her “sword play,” Natalia unforgivingly commands the cello to give her every bit of nuance and sound that it can muster. She engulfs the instrument, leans on it, and somehow puts it under a spell so that it becomes her own heart and soul uttering all manner of emotion. She literally tears into it, pulls sound of it, sways with it, and forgets about the audience as she launches into a pulsation of feeling that immediately draws the listener in. You want to go on this fantastic journey with her and you trust her at every step.

Volodomyr undergoes his own transformation at the keyboard. A more reticent personality than Natalia—at least to those who don’t know him—he radiates a combination of intensity, poetry, and mischievousness behind the piano. Never before have I heard Chopin sound so much like a song bird, as opposed to a panorama of impressionistic  emotions.

Volodymyr Vynnitsky

Along with his delicate technique, though, Volodomyr adds power and huge sound to his playing—the best of musical bravado. Near the end of the program we also got to hear one of his compositions: the enchanting “Lost Tango” which I could not help but hear as an expression of the different sides of his otherwise demure nature.

The long and short of it is that you never want to miss a chance to see these two perform. And I, for one, am going to seek out a copy of their CD that includes many of the same pieces that we heard last night.

Harpsichordist Jory Vinikour

EACH TIME I HEAR Jory Vinikour play the harpsichord, I marvel at his speed, precision, and complexity. As his body sits nearly motionless, his arms and especially his extremely busy fingers carry the musical load. To say that he demonstrates dexterity is an understatement.

Jory’s recent concert at the Simons Center Recital Hall, as part of the College’s Monday Night Series, was another marvel of music making, and another chance to savor the sounds of the harpsichord—an acquired taste to be sure.

It certainly helped early on in the program to have Jory play J.S. Bach’s “Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue,” BWV 903, whose relentless torrent of notes lets forth a remarkable tapestry of sound as only Bach can provide. Even if you are familiar with this piece played on piano, there are colors and nuances that emerge from the instrument that Bach himself played and composed for.

I later asked Jory, “What do piano students stand to learn from the harpsichord?” and the first thing he said was “the colors.” It was something he kept repeating as we talked; that the spectrum of coloration is so much broader on the harpsichord. He described a pianist friend of his sitting down at the harpsichord for the first time, pressing a key, and his hand instinctively jumping away from the keyboard. The reason? Because there are no hammers; when you press a key, it lifts a “jack” that causes a “quill” to pluck the string—all with a delicate touch.

After the Bach, Jory jumped to the 20th century and played “Spiders” by Ned Rorem (b. 1923). It was not as startling a transition as you might think, and it was interesting to hear a Baroque keyboard instrument rendering modern music.

This was followed by another modern piece, “Admiring Yoro Waterfall” by Graham Lynch (b. 1957), which the composer dedicated to Jory. It was a remarkably vivid depiction of a familiar Japanese scene. Again, it seemed to be the colors of the harpsichord that were so able to convey Japan’s unique combination of water, tranquility, and culture.

Jory, who is a recognized master Baroque keyboard player, happens to love contemporary compositions and is known for playing them, so it was no surprise that he played a third modern piece. “Hungarian Rock” by Gyorgy Ligeti (1932–2006) proved to be a chaconne-like piece with a lively and entertaining Jazz lilt.

True to the instrument’s origins and Jory’s classical training, he then slipped with facility and joy back to the Baroque with four sonatas by Domenico Scarlatti (1685–1757). With tremendous flourishes of virtuosity, Jory answered Scarlatti’s call in four works that seriously test a player’s physical and musical limits across the entire keyboard.

This was the third year in a row that Jory has played in Charleston. Yet another instance of world-class talent on our doorstep due to Steve Rosenberg and the College of Charleston School of the Arts.

Irwin Jiang playing Prokofiev’s Sonata No. 7 in B-flat Major

IT HAS BEEN around for a long time. But the Monday Night Concert Series at the Simons Center Recital Hall, produced by Steve Rosenberg and the College of Charleston School of the Arts, is still a hidden—and very affordable—jewel in Charleston’s music scene.

No, these are not world-class musicians (yet). No, the one hour is not a social affair (though it can be if you want). And, no, the performances will not meet your highest expectations (but only depending on what they are).

What makes these concerts special is that they are are an education for performers and audiences alike.

Tenor Johnathan White singing Lensky’s Aria

The performing students and faculty get the vital experience of playing in public on a formal stage. Only if you have ever performed or given a speech can you appreciate the value of this experience; a live situation where you are encouraged to succeed, yet allowed to make mistakes—to be less than perfect—as you make discoveries under the pressure of the moment.

And if you’re like me—an always beginning learner when it comes to probing, understanding, and appreciating the arts—these 60-minute sessions on Monday night are an ongoing lesson. You get exposed to a broad spectrum of music, instruments, performers, and interpretations. Through the osmosis of experience you gain discrimination, come to appreciate things you may not otherwise have, and continuously heighten your appreciation of the arts.

This is true of exposure to all the arts; it just happens to be particularly true of the Monday Night Series where there is such variety week after week during the school year.

Ten dollars for non CofC students (free for them). Open seating in an intimate 285-seat hall. One hour. On campus. Easy parking. It’s an invigorating way to start the week. And a wonderful way to support the arts program at the College.

Ulyana Machneva playing Fernando So

And even though these are not world-class concerts, I promise that you will be surprised at, and occasionally awed by, the performances—as I and the rest of this week’s audience seemed to be (in palpable silence) as Johnathan White concluded his stirring rendition of Lensky’s Aria from Tchaikovsky’s score to Alexander Pushkin’s opera, Eugene Onegin.

And this is not to take anything away from the other fine musicians, ranging from freshmen to graduate students—all of whom I look forward to hearing again.

But do yourself a favor: don’t go just once. Go several times. Continue your education. Go feel the pulse of the arts which are, after all, the height of expression of our experience as human beings.

Chee-Hang See and Amy Tan playing Francis Polenc’s vivacious Sonata for Four Hands

This concert featured:

• Fernando Troche, guitar
• Nathan Matticks, baritone
  (Robin Zemp, piano)
• Courtney Sharp, cello
• Ulyana Machneva, guitar
• Chee Hang See and Amy Tan, piano
• Valerio Osborn, mezzo-soprano
  (Robin Zemp, piano)
• Meghan Henson, violin
  (Amy Tan, piano)
• Irwin Jiang, piano
• Johnathan White, tenor

You can see the rest of the 2010 Monday Night Series schedule at music.cofc.edu/in-concert/monday-night-concerts.php.

A double-manual harpsichord

YOU’LL BE ONE OF THE LUCKY ONES if you catch this article in time to hear Jory Vinikour play harpsichord tonight at the College of Charleston Monday Night Series at the Simmons Center.

Jory, who performed at last year’s Bach Festival Charleston (read that review here), will perform two dazzling keyboard works: J. S. Bach’s G Major French Suite and Jean-Philippe Rameau’s A Minor Suite.

Both pieces showcase a Gavotte movement which the two composers chose to put at different tempos—as Jory explains in the first video interview below.

J. S. Bach

According to Wikipedia, Bach’s French Suites refer to six suites that he wrote for the harpsichord between 1722 and 1725. The suites were later given the name ‘French’ to contrast them with the English Suites. The name was popularized by Bach’s biographer Johann Nikolaus Forkel, who wrote in his 1802 biography of Bach, “One usually calls them French Suites because they are written in the French manner.” That claim, however, is inaccurate because the French suites, like Bach’s other suites, follow a largely Italian convention.

As for Jean-Philippe Rameau (1683–1764), Wikipedia describes him as one of the most important French composers and music theorists of the Baroque era who is considered the leading French composer for the harpsichord of his time, alongside François Couperin. Little is known about Rameau’s early years, and it was not until the 1720s that he won fame as a major theorist of music with his Treatise on Harmony (1722). He was almost 50 before embarking on the operatic career on which his reputation chiefly rests. Rameau’s music had gone out of fashion by the end of the 18th century, and it was not until the 20th that serious efforts were made to revive it.

Jean-Philippe Rameau

Today, however, Rameau enjoys renewed appreciation with more and more frequent performances and recordings of his music. And as Jory also mentions in the interview below, Rameau was very much the equal of Bach when it came to contrapuntal keyboard compositions. In the second interview below, Jory also speaks about the harpsichord itself, the different types of single- and double-manual harpsichords, and how they differ from the piano physically and musically.

Both pieces that you will hear tonight are masterful works of Baroque keyboard music that combine rich dimensions of tone, color, and complexity—all of which call for a master keyboard player, which Jory most certainly is. Add to Jory’s virtuosity his intense passion for the instrument and an intimate familiarity with the music, and you have all the ingredients for a superb listening experience. •

Below: Jory Vinikour discussing the harpsichord suites by Bach and Rameau.

Below: Jory Vinikour discussing differences between the harpsichord and piano.