Hey! It’s a video clip of my fairy godmother and guardian angel, Louise Canafax! Kisses, Louise! She gives the same backstage TLC to all us pianists, professional and amateur alike. A true Cliburn treasure. I miss those candy bars…

I adore spunky Aussie Andrea Lam, and I’m rooting for her. But I think she may need to pull a rabbit out of her hat with the Dvorak to crack her way into the finals. Her semifinal recital just felt a bit tired, or maybe overwhelmed. As a person, and as a personality, I think she can really bring this piece to life in ways nobody else in this field has. I think back, fondly, to Joyce Yang’s memorable performance last time around. More than any of the other quintets, the sweet, lighthearted Dvorak really can soar with the boundless enthusiasm of the performer. Andrea can certainly do it. It’s a perfect piece for her.

But: will she?

Go for it, Andrea!

— Mike

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Impressions: Andrea has fans here. Some spontaneous applause after the first moment (oh! shocking, in a savvy classical music town like Fort Worth!). I think this piano needs more work to draw out those low bass notes, and milk those singing lines. I find the piano sound a bit thin this evening; of course, it’s impossible to tell through the knothole of the internet and my laptop. (This is the “shiny” American Steinway, right?) Sprightly, perky playing. If anything, a bit delicate: I do think this piece needs an earthy feel.  (Does anyone, by any chance, know the story of Alfons Mucha’s Slav Epic? This could have been part of the soundtrack for some of the tableaux.)

The judges will I think naturally be comparing this to Eduard Kunz and to Di Wu. What do you think?

I can tell you what the audience thinks. They love her. Andrea is all smiles, and good for her! She claps herself for her marvelous string players. It is, of course, a big ol’ Fort Worth standing ovation, and I’m hearing lots of enthusiastic cheers for her.

Steve’s asked her how she felt. And she’s crying with joy — I think overwhelmed with how much fun it is to play with one’s heroes. “It gives a glimpse of what music should be.” She’s wonderfully articulate, and even takes a moment to thank the Cliburn gang for pioneering this webcast. Good for you, Andrea!

Folks, we’re traveling tomorrow (it’s graduation day at my adopted daughter’s school in western Massachusetts). So I will, regrettably, miss the two final semifinal sessions. I imagine it will be interesting, and not at all easy, for the jury to resolve a set of six finalists from this remarkable, eclectic field. You know, these things are a little like the Westminster Dog Show. I mean, how can you really say that the beagle is the winner, and the malamute deserves second? And what about the Tibetan Mastiff, who was only formally admitted last year (even though it’s perhaps the most ancient dog breed in the world)? And: How would you compare and rank such wildly different young musicians as Nobu Tsujii, Andrea Lam, Haochen Zhang, and Evgeni Bozhanov? Or Son? Or Wu? Or Lifits? And yet, that is of course what somehow happens. One difference between Westminster and Cliburn is that, last I checked, the Westminster blue ribbons were awarded by one person. The Cliburn results are filtered by a somewhat eclectic jury, using an averaged calculation. (The only regular exception, I think, is that you can almost always be sure the bearded guy never wins!)

I’ve served on Cliburn juries before, for the Amateur competition, but the dilemmas aren’t terribly different. Let me just mention a few issues that concern jurors. One always looks for a person who communicates: an artist who has something original and interesting to say, and who makes you want to hear more. One is often struck at this level by such basic things as charisma (or lack of it) — even the simple ability to smile, and laugh at one’s self, is something that doesn’t seem to have much to do with those fistfuls of notes, and yet: that sort of infectious pleasure contributes immeasurably to the way a performer lifts the spirits of their listeners. In the peculiar world of classical piano playing, some personalities seem to be focused like a laser, while others are more like high-watt light bulbs. I think the audience has a sense of the difference between a well-rounded, seasoned person, and someone who seems to have done little else but play the piano. Or the difference between a person who is absolutely overjoyed just to be here, and to be able to share what they love; and a person who plows into the music as if it’s their job.

After O.D.’ing on piano music this way, I sometimes recall something Igor Stravinsky said in his Norton Lectures at Harvard (the same lecture chair that Bernstein memorably held years later): that the trouble with professional music schools is they teach students to play music; what they need to do better is help more people love music.

It’s impossible not to be struck by Nobu Tsujii this year — who of course recalls the unforgettable impact of Debra Saylor (also blind) at the Cliburn Amateur competition a few years ago. But how can you measure their impact using the same sort of ruler that is employed for someone who plays Sorabji’s Chopin pastiches followed by six Godowsky-Chopin studies, and the Islamey for a warm-up? And yet there’s no question that Tsujii is an immensely important chapter in the Cliburn story, and for music. He’ll have a unique ability to lift hearts.

One of the overarching dilemmas here is that the whole piano recital format has grown more and more stale, and less and less surprising. When was the last time you heard a competitor improvise, or play one of their own compositions or arrangements? I am sure the jury struggles with trying to get a sense of the individual performers despite the gruelling constraints and performance conventions or the by and large pretty standard repertoire within which they operate. And I know the Cliburn staff wonders openly about what can best be done to revive and refresh the loveliest aspects of what really can be a profoundly valuable art form.

These are, of course, just scattered, hasty thoughts as this curious process hurtles towards the finals.  I always come away from the Cliburn feeling that every talented performer has something new to offer.  And thankfully, it’s so easy to be reminded through these events that music makes us all better people.

Mostly, right now, I’m looking forward not to “coming away from the Cliburn” — but to going there. I’ll be in Fort Worth June 3-7 for the finals.  God, I love piano concertos.  Remember: when an orchestra calls, wanting you to play a concerto, the answer is always: YES. If you don’t happen to play the piano, it’s worth the trouble to learn.

CHEERS, and heartfelt best wishes to all the musicians.

Mike

This entry was posted on Saturday, May 30th, 2009 at 8:33 pm and is filed under Screening Recitals. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.