Painting Put to Music

It is not common for a piece of music to directly echo a painting, and it’s hard to imagine how a composer would go about it. But turn-of-the-century Italian composer Ottorino Respighi got it right, and so did the Spoleto Festival USA Orchestra under the baton of French conductor Pierre Vallet at St. Matthew’s Lutheran Church. If you know the paintings of Sandro Botticelli, you would especially enjoy this music.

Conductor Pierre Vallet’s score

The Trittico Botticelliano conveys Respighi’s sense of meaning and mood in three of Botticelli’s works: his “Spring,” “Adoration of the Magi,” and “Birth of Venus.” Respighi’s three movements, like the paintings, are correspondingly vibrant, sacred, and sensuous. The only thing that might have topped this performance was if the paintings had been shown on a large video screen above the orchestra, with the camera zooming in on the details of each canvas as the pieces were played.

Most evocative is the second movement—the “Adoration”—because of the beautiful melody it borrows from O Come O Come Emmanuel. The haunting sound of a solo oboe further captures the serenity and majesty of Botticelli’s religious scene.

Botticelli’s “Birth of Venus”

In the “Birth of Venus” above, the figures (which are nearly life-size in the original) are especially magical because they float in the air, on the sea, and above the ground. The landscape is fantastical and the four figures (their bodies) are ethereal, yet their faces are fully charged with an unusual depth of emotion—all of which Respighi seems to have caught in his music. It no doubt helps that Botticelli’s works, as much as those of any Renaissance painter, have a fluid, lyrical quality.

Occasionally you come across poetry that tries to impart the essence of a painting. But music does it much better, perhaps because both mediums (painting and music) are wordless. In fact, on account of this, it can be a nice experience to visit an art gallery and walk through the exhibit while listening to music on your iPod. Sometimes a whole other dimension in the art—and in you—comes alive. ¶

Accompanying Pianos at Piccolo

Listening to live classical music is always a learning experience. Each time you hear new things and gain fresh discrimination. This is even more true when the same instrument is played by different musicians—which is just one of the benefits of the Piccolo Spoleto “Young Artists Series” that has been featuring music students from the College of Charleston’s undergraduate and graduate (artist certificate) programs.

Last Saturday at the Simmons Center, the program highlighted four piano concertos with the soloist at one piano and the ‘orchestra’ part being played on a second piano—something I had not heard before. This allowed eight pianists to perform (and avoided the need for an orchestra), although the overall sound was somewhat muffled as a result. That’s because the second piano often competed with rather than complemented the first. Due to the second piano’s location at the back of the stage, it had a bigger, booming acoustic that drowned out the softer solo passages. The upside, however, was that you could hear what both players were doing, which gave me new insight into the orchestra’s role in a concerto. Several things also stood out about the different techniques of the pianists. For instance, Lisa Lee, who performed the Moderato from Rachmaninoff’s Concerto No. 2  in C minor, plays with unusually curled fingers, as though she is clawing the keyboard. It is by no means unattractive and her sound is excellent. It’s just that her method is the direct opposite of, for example, Vladimir Horowitz, the Russian virtuoso who was renowned for playing with his fingers almost perfectly straight and striking the keys with the pads rather than tips of his fingers.

Freshman Chee Hang See, who exudes as much concentration in his face as in his hands, played the Allegro from Gershwin’s Concerto in F Major. My limited experience with Gershwin is that I rarely get past the ‘Gershwin’ style to the music underneath. This time, however, I heard for the first time Gershwin’s complexity and depth as a composer.

pianist Christopher Lin

The final piece on the program was the full Concerto No. 1 in D-flat Major by Prokofiev, performed by Christopher Lin who is an Enrique Graf student from Carnegie Mellon. Christopher has a firm, crisp technique that kept Prokofiev—who often sounds muddled to my untrained ear—very lucid and alive. I am not entirely sure about this, but I also discerned an unexpected similarity between the Prokofiev and Gershwin pieces. Something about the way the two composers put seemingly disparate phrases together. I am still not sold on Prokofiev when it comes to listening pleasure, but Chrisopher’s interpretation and focused play got me more interested. As with Chee Hang, Christopher took me a layer deeper into the music, which says a lot about these young performers and the laudable path that Enrique Graf is leading them down. ¶

Stellar Piano at Piccolo Spoleto

Reviews like this are read, more often than not, by people who were not at the performance, and it is virtually impossible to convey what the experience was really like: the setting, the ambiance, the energy of the performers, and particularly the quality of the music and its effect in the moment. (In this case, I was sitting on the floor at the back of the hall, leaning against the wall with my eyes closed a large part of the time, listening to the stirring works of Rachmaninoff and Chopin). But wouldn’t it be more interesting to read “a little taste in advance” as a preview that might tempt you to see the performance, rather than just the afterword? Seems like it would be worth at least an experiment. What do you think?

pianist Sean Kennard

But back to the concert. Sean Kennard—another accomplished student of Enrique Graf—has a relaxed, professional demeanor at the keyboard that immediately puts you at ease. He comes across as a genuine player more than a stage performer, which draws you in even further. His technique is very polished, his expression ultra clear. So much so that you forget about the piano and simply hear the music that he delivers through it—which is rare, and which made me think of the line in the film “Mao to Mozart” when Isaac Stern reminds a young violinist: “You don’t use music to play the violin, you use the violin to play music.” That’s when it becomes art. And that’s what Sean did today as part of the Piccolo Spoleto “Young Artists Series” when he played three pieces by Rachmaninoff and then was joined by five string players—fellow students at the College of Charleston—for Chopin’s Concerto No. 1 in E minor.

Sean Kennard and Friends

Sean skillfully managed the Rachmaninoff works, beautifully capturing the Russian composer’s unique blend of poetry and magnificence. He did equal justice to the Chopin concerto (one of only two by Chopin) which contains several rousing passages that build gradually in feeling and intensity, but which Sean did not overplay.

After four dynamic pieces, he concluded with an encore of Debussy’s Clair de Lune, which further exhibited Sean’s exquisite sensitivity and delicate touch. All the while, I could not help but glance now and then at mentor Enrique Graf to see his reaction. From all indications, it is immensely gratifying for him to see his young protegés flourishing like this. And thanks to Piccolo Spoleto, we get to reap some of the listening benefit for ourselves. ¶

Back for More Baroque

New Trinity Baroque is simply fun to watch and superb to listen to. So back I went to First Scots Presbyterian Church for their final Piccolo Spoleto performance and another all-Vivaldi program that more than met my expectations.

New Trinity Baroque ensemble

The five concertos they played made for such good listening partly because they are not too long. As musical director Predrag Gosta (at far left) pointed out, Vivaldi wrote many of his concertos for church services so the pieces had to subscribe to a defined time limit—a restriction that seems to have brought out the best in Vivaldi’s already compact style of composing. A good example was the Cello Concerto in D Minor which featured André O’Neil. The second movement in particular contained hauntingly beautiful passages, the likes of which I have not heard from Vivaldi before. In this case, I wish the movement had lasted longer, so captivating it was. Equally interesting was André himself who plays with a self-contained, almost monastic poise that belies his passion for the cello.

violinist Carrie Krause

Contrastingly, violinist Carrie Krause plays with innocent exuberance. The instrument floats on her shoulder—she appears barely to hold it at all—as her fingers and bow romp across the top of it with liquid ease and expertise. Her obvious pleasure in performing also carries (no pun intended) over to the audience.

Especially nice was the final piece of the day—Concerto in E Minor—when she and fellow violinist Adriane Post had a whimsical musical ‘conversation’. Their mutual playing brings a lightness to the group, as does their clear and delicate sound—both of which were appropriate to the piece itself. Written late in Vivaldi’s life, it evokes an endearing tenderness.

For many years, Antonio Vivaldi composed pieces that were performed by teenage girls under his musical tutelage at the Ospedale ‘orphanage’. It seems fitting then that two female violinists are presenting these delightful works with this extremely gifted ensemble. ¶

Learn more about New Trinity Baroque and their recordings.

Learn more about Antonio Vivaldi.

A Mesmerizing Intermezzo

Andrew von Oeyen is a dazzling pianist. Not many people can do all those tricks on the keyboard—so fast, all from memory, and with such swagger. The critics regard Mr. von Oeyen as a gifted performer mature beyond his playing years. And he is clearly a talented showman. But what do his audiences think? What do they really feel during and after his recitals?

Pianist Andrew von Oeyen

I for one was astonished by his speed, precision, and superhuman control. At the same time it felt a little like going to the circus and watching an acrobat do a few death-defying leaps and take several exciting risks with undeterred confidence before jaunting toward the audience, bowing rapidly, and skipping off stage. You’re breathless in the moment, but the experience leaves no residue.

In the case of Andrew’s Spoleto “Intermezzo” performance at St. Matthews Lutheran Church, I remember what I saw, but quickly forgot what I had heard. His rapid-fire showcase, impressive as it was, superseded the music. It muddied the musical message. It was, unfortunately, too much ado about the performer.

Who doesn’t admire brilliance and would not love to have more of it? But the question is to what end? Certainly, when artists themselves remain pure instruments, everyone—especially the performer—is rewarded in unexpected ways. It is a secret of great art and of the greatest talent. ¶

Want to hear a very different perspective? Read Lindsay Koob’s review for the City Paper.