Category Archives: Kelvin Chan

Egoyan signature concert intriguing, educational

Pianist Eve Egoyan,
With David Rokeby
Works by Egoyan/Rokeby, Alvin Curran, Erik Satie, Per Nørgård
October 13, 2012, Phillip T. Young Recital Hall
Reviewed by Kelvin Chan

I must confess that I have never been the biggest, medium, or even smallest fan of Erik Satie. Known as one of the most eccentric composers in the history of Western music, he composed in a unique, daring, sometimes downright weird style that puzzles the listener. For instance, where would you find tempo markings like, ”Again. Better. Again. Very good. Amazingly. Perfect. Don’t go too high. Without noise. Far off.”? The answer is The Crooked Dances, one of the two sets of three miniatures from the Cold Pieces that Egoyan performed at her signature concert. Oh, and they are actually easy listening in comparison with a majority of Satie’s output—that is, their mainly consonant, slowly changing harmonies blend into one another, and their brevity gives listeners a clear enough sense of Satie’s style without irritating the ear-drums too much.

But that was the latter half of the concert. It was obvious that the first half, which featured Surface Tension, a multimedia collaboration between Egoyan and her husband David Rokeby, was the main feature of the night. The concept behind the piece is intriguing: a disklavier, or computer interface for an acoustic piano, is connected to a grand piano, whose sound production sends signals to the interface and the laptop computer connected to it (controlled by Rokeby), and those signals will then generate visual patterns that are finally displayed on a large projector screen on stage. Sounds complicated, but it was a remarkable attempt to extend the role of the piano to a visual, as well as acoustic instrument. The work is divided into five improvised movements, and each of them supplies unique visual material for the pianist to work with. My favourite was the second movement, where each pitch class on the piano was mapped to a different colour in the projection, and where different intensities of sound produced circular shapes of corresponding sizes. As Egoyan’s blazing flurry of octaves and cluster chords culminated in an enormous wave of sound, the circles on screen spiraled into a violent whirlwind. Unfortunately the performance was then briefly interrupted by a technical issue involving Rokeby’s computer, but it was sorted out promptly and all was back on track before the audience lost too much of its concentration.

The fourth movement was another highlight in the thirty-minute piece, as three-dimensional blocks were used by the piano to construct a massive tower of abstract geometrical shapes. Throughout the movement, Egoyan appropriately varied her impromptus in register, dynamics, articulation, and even playing techniques (there was an instance where she elbowed the lowest depths of the keybed furiously). Egoyan’s wide array of touch treated the audience to a visual splendour of stunning colours, textures and moods. It certainly helped that the Steinway grand she played on, which was supplied by Tom Lee Music, had been masterfully tuned and voiced beforehand. Never in my four years studying at the School of Music have I heard such a gloriously sounding instrument—not to mention it was three feet shorter than the full-size Model D’s that reside in the recital hall.

What to make of the night, then? It was a valuable experience for those who haven’t been exposed to many contemporary works and sound installations. If nothing else, the diverse techniques employed in these new works allowed the capabilities of a well-prepared Steinway grand to be showcased in full glory. That, in and of itself made the night stay true to its spirit as a remarkable celebration—Satie notwithstanding.

Kelvin Chan is a fourth-year music student at the University of Victoria

Waiting Room reflects diversity of society

The Waiting Room
By Anne Schaefer
Baker Studios 2012, Victoria B.C.
A MAPL qualified album (composed, performed, and recorded by a Canadian)

Reviewed By Kelvin Chan

It is difficult, perhaps impossible, to categorize Anne Schaefer’s second album, The Waiting Room into any one musical genre. The styles exhibited in the 11 tracks are eclectic: each is linked to one of the 11 “patients” in the “waiting room,” reflecting a condition they suffer from. According to Anne Schaefer, who composed, sang, played, and produced the album herself, life is like a waiting room, where people of different ages, cultural backgrounds and walks of life have one thing in common: they all suffer variously from the human condition.

During my first spin of the CD, it became evident that Anne Schaefer is as multi-faceted as her imaginary characters. Take the opening track, Fragile, for example, where her raspy, thin tone makes Georgia’s condition, “acute sensitivity,” all the more delicate. Or Black Canary, where her playful, seductive teasing breathes life into Dinah’s dark super-heroine fantasy. Schaefer’s collaborators are a talented bunch as well: the prominent cello accompaniment in Elixir is played by Kevin Fox with robust, rich tone, sumptuously blending into the smooth vocal harmonies.

Although each track is largely unique in terms of mood, I noticed that more than half of the CD features prominent piano lead-ins, which helped establish the mood effectively but were just a bit predictable—the rigid timbre of the piano’s recorded sound didn’t help either. It was a welcome change when I arrived at Track 8, which began with the exotic sonorities of a bandoneon probably sampled from a folk band. Titled Chanson d’amour, it is also the only song in the album that is sung in French—in the intoxicating key of B minor, no less.

The whole production is polished: the tracks are well-engineered and recorded. I was especially excitied to read in the liner notes that the album was produced from beginning to end in Victoria’s Baker Studios. Musically speaking, The Waiting Room offers plenty of diversity to satisfy listeners of all types, especially indie enthusiasts who are tired of the predictability of mainstream pop.
The noble, we-are-all-different-but-we-are-all-in-this-together artistic concept behind the album comes across well and raises awareness about the heterogeneity in society. Schaefer reminds us that the human condition, like our options in musical taste, is perhaps more diverse than represented by blind worship of a barely-legal teenage boy or gaga responses to a provocatively dressed woman.

Kelvin Chan is a fourth-year Music student.

A Steinway Celebration: Robert Silverman & Lafayette String Quartet

September 23, 2012, Philip T. Young Recital Hall at UVic School of Music
Rhapsody in B minor, op. 79 no.1 –Johannes Brahms
Six Piano Pieces, op. 118 –Johannes Brahms
Rhapsody in E-flat major, op. 119 no.4 –Johannes Brahms
Piano Quintet in E-flat major, op. 44
Robert Silverman, piano , with the Lafayette String Quartet

Reviewed by Kelvin Chan

When you realize you should shove aside your daily routine to explore a composer further, you know the performance you’ve just heard has left “a lasting legacy.” Robert Silverman’s magnificent playing at his recent Sunday afternoon concert made me shelve my Mahler symphonies cycle and pull out the late piano works of Brahms for the night.

The program for the first half comprised a selection of works from Brahms’ late period—this is fantasy-like, probing, at times introspective music, and Silverman has an obvious affinity for this kind of expression. He paid meticulous attention to the treatment of both the sustain and una corda pedals, and a lush, burnished approach was apparent by the time of the second theme’s arrival in the Rhapsody in B minor, which he played with highly polished voicing in the treble register (which is notorious among piano majors at the School of Music for being recessed on the old Steinway, the instrument of Mr. Silverman’s choice).

The Six Piano Pieces, op. 118, one of a few cycles of piano works Brahms wrote toward the end of his career, is regarded as among the finest works in the Romantic literature. Being a pianophile, I have heard and studied multiple recordings of these pieces before, but never experienced them in a live setting, where the spontaneity truly adds to the quasi-fantasia nature of the music. Silverman presented the cycle with its strong thematic unity in mind, only briefly pausing between each of the six pieces, and in some cases, such as at the end of the Intermezzo in A minor, carefully linking the first notes of the following piece with the sustain pedal. Throughout the cycle, Silverman exhibited his mastery of tonal control, especially in soft playing: the last note of the serene Intermezzo in A major, for example, was produced with breathtaking softness—yet still with a remarkable degree of firmness, allowing it be projected over the lavish bass he frequently and beautifully conjured. He wrapped up the first half of the concert with a thrilling rendition of the Rhapsody in E-flat major, which allowed him to display his highly-refined tone at a wider dynamic contrast. The results were impressive.

After the interval, UVic’s Lafayette String Quartet joined Silverman on stage. The ensemble work throughout the Schumann Piano Quintet was first-rate. In the Development section of the Allegro brillante, for instance, the string players breathed and swayed freely yet were synchronized at the same time. Silverman provided a sensitive accompaniment throughout, frequently glancing at the violinists for visual cues. The brilliant chemistry in the ensemble was especially evident in the exhilarating Allegro, ma non troppo finale, where rhythmic excitement and structural buildups moved uniformly from first violin to piano to cello. The majestic culmination at the coda drew deservedly loud applause from the audience members, the majority of whom stood in ovation.

Kelvin Chan is a student in the School of Music at UVIC