Showing posts with label performing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label performing. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

July 28th Program

Weber State University
Department of Performing Arts 

Presents

Nicholas Maughan, Pianist

In Solo Recital

Wednesday, July 28, 2010 7:30 PM

Garrison Choral Room (BC 136)
Val A Browning Center for the Performing Arts 
(1901 University Circle
Ogden, Utah 84408) 


PROGRAM NOTES

Ludwig van Beethoven:     Sonata in Ab Major, Op. 110 

     i. Moderato cantabile molto espressivo
 Beethoven's final three Piano Sonatas (Opp. 109, 110 and 111) are sometimes performed as a complete set.  This is easily understood, realizing these are the final works he ever created for solo piano.  We discover within these pieces Beethoven's most intimate, inward relationship with sound and form, and--when one considers the works were composed after Beethoven had completely lost his hearing--how Beethoven's music really became a vehicle for his deepest expression.
I've chosen to open this evening's program with the first movement of Op. 110.  For me, it's the musical brother of Kafke's words:  "No people sing with such pure voices as those who [have] live[d] in deepest hell; what we take for the song of angels is their song."
 A man acquainted with ill health, I imagine the finality Beethoven's hearing loss created his "deepest hell."  He was, after all, a man of music, his soul in his ear.  And yet, in spite of the crisis, he continued to sing.  Opus 110 is a testament and a hymn, its reverent opening chords opening up to show that life, even when filled with silent adversity, can still reveal ripples and peals of joy.

JS Bach:     Prelude and Fugue in F# Minor, BWV 859
Bach's collection of 48 Preludes and Fugues, The Well-Tempered Clavier (Books I & II), is probably as revered in the pianist's musical literature as the Bible is in Christianity's canon of sacred texts.  Each of the Preludes and Fugues creates its own sound world and presents unique technical and artistic challenges, and Bach himself wrote the pieces were written "for the profit and use of musical youth desirous of learning, and especially for the pastime of those already skilled in this study."
I selected this Prelude and Fugue in F# Minor from Book I because I found the  characters of the Prelude and the Fugue make quite an intriguing philosophical contrast.  The Prelude exhibits Bach's love of the dance.  It's lithe and fleet-footed, 16th notes almost tipping over themselves in their rushing descents.  The Fugue, however, is a study in distressed resistance (the main subject) and calming assurance (the countersubject).  I also love the fact that this is a work written in a minor key, but the last chord finds a major resolution.  There's nothing as fulfilling as a lovingly-placed Piccardy third!
 Arno Babadjanian: Poem (1966)
I first became acquainted with this work when Tria Fata was competing with Badajdanian's expertly crafted Piano Trio.  I was YouTube-ing Babadjanian's other works, saw the title Poem, and thought to myself, Well, with a title like that, this should be a pretty, lyrical piece. Let's give it a listen.  Needless to say, I was quite shocked and thrilled when my expectations were shattered.
 After an explosive introduction, the work travels through three parts: the first presents an undulating ostinato which accompanies a long soprano line fitted with little Armenian inflections and turns; the second is a kind of nervous toccata-rondo, full of schizophrenic leaps and manic hand-crossings; and the final section repeats material from the introduction, ending in a cataclysmic bacchanale of sound, engaging the widest ranges of the keyboard.
 Sergei Rachmaninoff: Etude-Tableau in C Minor, Op. 33, No. 3
C minor is traditionally one of the darkest, most fate-filled musical keys.  Beethoven's Fifth Symphony and his ultimate Piano Sonata (Op. 111) were written in C Minor.  Rachmaninoff's initial treatment of the key is especially brooding and dark.  Thick chords and murky harmonies create an oppressive, seemingly endless heaviness.  To me, it almost feels like Rachmaninoff is contemplating his death.   But there is hope.  The tonal center of the piece shifts, light descends and, again, as I've mentioned with regard to the Beethoven's 110, we think we hear the angels sing.
This special piece is a fascinating study in the emotions and pictures harmony can inspire and suggest.  It's an essay in chiaroscuro, the strong contrast between dark and light, night and day and death and life.
Sergei Rachmaninoff/Sergei Rachmaninoff: Daisies, Op. 38, No. 3
This lovely piano transcription was originally part of Rachmaninoff's 6 Romances, Op. 38, a set of expertly crafted art songs for soprano and piano.  "Daisies," the third song in the set, revels in the delicacy of the white-petaled flower.
One of the few pieces Rachmaninoff wrote in consistently major harmonies, it demonstrates his affinity for refined counterpoint, his sweeping, lyrical lines and his expert artistry in manipulating pianistic (and vocal) color, all within three pages of music.  Although it is a miniature, it is a work of supreme, elegant beauty.  As the last line of the proclaims, "Oh, daisies! I love you so!"
 Frederic Chopin: Polonaise-Fantaisie in Ab, Op. 61
The polonaise is one of the most important of Poland's national dances.  At times heroic, chivalric, and even defiant, Chopin used his 16 polonaises to express the intense national pride he felt as a Pole, though living in France.
The Polonaise-Fantaisie, however, takes a less militant approach in telling its musical story.  It's his last large work, written three years before his death in 1849, and for me, even though he pays homage to the dotted rhythms of his beloved polonaise, there's a greater sense of distance, of immense space (pay attention to places where he employs silence), and of longing for the beautiful place one calls Home than we hear in many of his other works. I tend to think this is Chopin's meditation on mortality and the possibility of immortality.  The work presents a rich and complicated emotional image, its culmination more of a question mark than an exclamation.

Tonight, Tonight! :/

I rarely get up anymore before 8:30 in the morning.  I'm a pretty late night owl, usually practicing in one of the practice rooms at school until midnight or later, preparing for this or that performance or gig or Tria date.  This morning, however, found me waking at 6 am on my parents' couches, my nerves already tightening themselves in preparation for tonight's solo recital.

That's right, I'm performing this evening.  Alone.  As in without anyone else on stage.  I haven't played a solo gig in two years.  I'm a little nervous.

I have, of course, been playing parts of the program at different functions for which I've been hired.  Birthday parties for important university doners. My professor has been so gracious in meeting me for weekly lessons, during which time we discuss the best way to play technical passages and my philosophy about each piece.  Good friends have been patient and listened to entire runs of the program.  I shouldn't be nervous: I'm quite prepared.

I guess the reason behind the nerves is the uncertainty that I can pull off a solo recital as well as Sam, Katie and I can pull off a chamber music concert, or as well as a recital in which I'm collaborating with a vocalist or other instrumentalist.  I'm fighting doubt, trying to remember that I've done my best, and grace, thankfully, should settle in and do the rest.

The instrument upon which I'll play is a perfect 9-foot Steinway Model D, it's range of color and tone an impeccable palette with with to create musical pictures.  The hall is not bad, and it's one with which I'm well acquainted.  My teacher will be there, offering up words of support in the green room before, and my parents and friends will be rooting for my success.  I'm playing magnificent pieces of music which run the gamut of musical expression.

It will be a fine evening.  I will trust the Inspirer of all good things and let the music ring.