Thursday, March 1, 2018

Raj Bhimani, piano (2/24/18)

Preludes, Book 2 (1912–1913) – Claude Debussy (1862–1918)
Océanides (Etude for the Left Hand) (1986) – Thérèse Brenet (b. 1934)
Sonata in B Minor (1853) – Franz Liszt (1811–1886)

That looks like slim pickin’s doesn’t it? Don’t let looks deceive you. The Debussy was twelve individual pieces of various lengths. I’m neither going to name them (in both French and English) nor comment on each. The music of Debussy and his contemporaries is often described as impressionistic though some of them did not like that term. However, some of the washes of sound and rippling effects bring to mind the blurred colors and edges of Impressionist paintings, so the name stuck and is pretty much the accepted term. As a result, my impressions of the Preludes included words like rippling, modern harmonies, and use of extreme octaves—the same pitches played at the same time but in very high and low ranges at the same time. I also jotted down terms like pretty sounds, haunting but also edgy, and mostly soft, yet still angular.

One of my favorites was La Puerta del Vino (The Wine Gate), which was louder and more forthright, with a Latin, almost Habañera, rhythm—this movement had more structure than the first two. General Lavine – eccentric was livelier than the calmer pieces that preceded it, and was slightly jazzy with a real button at the end. After wispy and a little more energy, we came to Hommage à S. Pickwick Esq. P.P.M.P.C., which began with a riff on God Save the King/Queen paired with lots of loud block chords and other running jazzy phrases. After two more movements mingling mixes of sustained chords followed by brisk, repetitive phrases in a perpetual motion fashion, the entire oeuvre ended, after more rippling motion with pops of color and a couple of full keyboard glissandi, with a dramatic section and then a strangely subdued ending. It made me wonder whether Debussy envisioned all twelve to be played in order, in a single concert setting. I do like the fact that the final Etude is titled Feux d'Artifice (Fireworks) because Mikey and I were in France one year in mid-July, and while we couldn't see the actual quatorze Juillet celebration, we did get to see the dress rehearsal for the feux d'artifice.

Océanides was interesting in that is was not composed, as many one-handed pieces were, for war-ravaged musicians who returned sans a limb or two. It was composed more as an homage to all of those unsung soldiers who served. A lot of the harmonies were reminiscent of Debussy in that there was extensive use of the sustained pedal since one hand was doing double duty. One technique used that I had never seen before was the left arm, elbow to forearm, holding down the keys while the fingers played some upper notes. Overall, though, I enjoyed the technique more than the music itself.

The Liszt sonata was rather massive. It had a somber opening at the lower end of the keyboard, followed by an explosion of sound, and then classic, florid dramatic Liszt. A song-like section, after a lot of dark drama, led to powerful, full volume followed by a welcomed calmer section. The writing here seemed to be designed to stretch harmonic and compositional boundaries. What followed was a lovely melodic section that was actually slightly heartbreaking. Unfortunately, Mr. Bhimani seemed to have a slight memory lapse here, but he soldiered on. There was a return to drama, including fleet finger work (and lots of it) that was almost bombastic at times—I relished the quieter sections, however. All in all, the piece was too massive and jumpy for my taste. Mr. Bhimani played very well, but a couple of memory lapses (perceived or real) marred it for me, as well as the overall disjointed composition, itself.

ConcertMeister

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