Press

Restrained, Then Madly Lyrical: The Pianist as Spring Mechanism

By admin | May 17, 2013

NY Times
By Zachary Woolfe
Published: May 17, 2013

By the time the pianist Yuja Wang had played a fifth encore to cap her exhilarating concert on Thursday evening at Carnegie Hall, I confess that while perhaps 90 percent of my attention was on her precise yet exuberant playing, a crucial 10 was on her skintight flame-colored dress.

It seems that a high-minded, conscientious music critic should pay Ms. Wang’s signature attire no mind. Enough ink, certainly, has been spilled on the subject during her rise to prominence these past few years.

But her vivid sartorial choices are far from incidental to the formidable effect of her playing. Her alluring, surprising clothes don’t just echo the allure and surprise of her musicianship, though they certainly do that.

More crucial, the tiny dresses and spiky heels draw your focus to how petite Ms. Wang is, how stark the contrast between her body and the forcefulness she achieves at her instrument. That contrast creates drama. It turns a recital into a performance.

And a performance, in the fullest sense of the word, was what Thursday’s program demanded. Ms. Wang offered an immersion in the overripe afterglow of 19th-century Romanticism: sonatas by Scriabin and Rachmaninoff, and “La Valse” by Ravel, all introduced by Lowell Liebermann’s “Gargoyles” (1989), a contemporary work that neatly evoked the fin-de-siècle decadence of the rest.

To say that Ms. Wang barnstormed through these dreamy, theatrical works is true but drastically understates her range of expression. Her fortissimos were fearsome, but so, in a quieter way, were the longing melodic lines of the first movement of Rachmaninoff’s Sonata No. 2.

Ms. Wang began these melodies with a stiffness approaching self-consciousness before gradually relaxing into pure lyricism, giving a sense of the music’s tightening and loosening in grand cycles. Playing with daring deliberation, she came close to disconnecting the phrases of the slow second movement. It was a move that emphasized Rachmaninoff’s incipient modernity, as did her teasing out of jazzy figurations and Debussyian kaleidoscopic textures.

The liquidity of her phrasing in the second movement of Scriabin’s Sonata No. 2 eerily evoked the sound of woodwinds. In that composer’s Sonata No. 6 she juxtaposed colors granitic and gauzy to eerily brilliant effect before closing the written program with a rabid rendition of the one-piano version of “La Valse,” accentuating the sickliness of Ravel’s distorted waltzes.

By her apocalyptic finale, there was no question that the party of the 19th century was definitively over in the aftermath of World War I. But she offered a nostalgic glimpse back in her fourth encore, Chopin’s Waltz in C sharp minor.

Ms. Wang returns to Carnegie on Oct. 22 with a program of Prokofiev, Stravinsky and more Chopin. I’ll see you there.

Wang’s awesome Rachmaninoff

By admin | June 21, 2012

By Joshua Kosman
San Francisco Chronicle
Published: June 18, 2012

At this point, there’s no more news to report about Yuja Wang. She is, quite simply, the most dazzlingly, uncannily gifted pianist in the concert world today, and there’s nothing left to do but sit back, listen and marvel at her artistry.

Happily for local audiences, Michael Tilson Thomas and the San Francisco Symphony were among the first to recognize her pre-eminence, and quickly forged a relationship with her that has brought us a series of revelatory local appearances. The latest came over the weekend, when Wang joined the orchestra in Davies Symphony Hall for a titanic account of Rachmaninoff’s Third Piano Concerto.

There were other delights on the program on Sunday afternoon, but Wang’s Rachmaninoff was clearly the headline event. It wasn’t just the fact that she made this concerto’s fabled technical difficulties – its thunderous chordal writing, its intricate passagework, its wearying length – seem easy, although that was part of it.

More remarkable still was the depth and imagination she brought to the entire score, and the way she made the piece’s virtuosic angle just one part of its purpose.

Of course, there were plenty of opportunities for showmanship, and Wang dispatched them with her customary aplomb. The fierce keyboard explosions in the outer movements – thickets of notes, densely clustered for maximum effect – and the quicksilvery bursts of repeated notes in the central episode of the second movement were beautifully handled.

But just as striking was Wang’s ability, which Thomas and the orchestra suavely supported, to convey the lyricism and grace of Rachmaninoff’s writing. In Wang’s hands, the opening theme – a simple melody in octaves brimming with nuanced emotion and energy – sounded every bit as impressive as the finger-busting displays that ensued. For pure finger-busting, Wang delivered a stunning encore of Vladimir Horowitz’s “Carmen” Variations.

Thomas and the orchestra brought their own brand of magic to the concert’s first half. It began with Fauré’s “Pavane,” in a lovely, rhythmically sustained reading graced by a fragrant contribution from principal flutist Tim Day.

Even more alluring was the orchestra’s sleek and strong-boned rendition of Sibelius’ all-too-rarely heard Third Symphony. Thomas seemed intent on underscoring the work’s elegance and balance without letting it subside into pure arabesque, and the orchestra followed his lead superbly.

Yuja’s Fantasia: Quite Fantastic

By admin | April 16, 2012

By Janos Gereben
San Francisco Classical Voice
Published: April 13, 2012

We are at the cusp of transition from one generation of pianists to another, but a name stands out as exception to clear distinction between grand old musicians and brilliant young talent. Yuja Wang doesn’t fit into either of those (arbitrary) boxes.

At only 25, Yuja (she prefers to use her given name in second reference, the patronymic Wang not being distinctive enough) is an old soul, and seemingly in the vanguard for a long, long time. In fact, it has been a dozen years — half her life — that she has been winning international contests and hearts around the world, plus engagements with major orchestras, so she is neither a newcomer nor a member of the ancien régime. She is what she is, one of the finest pianists — and, importantly, musicians — of our time.

And she has now produced her fourth Deutsche Grammophon CD, which is the subject of our sermon today. Fantasia follows Sonatas & Etudes (2009), Transformation (2010), and Rachmaninov (2011).

It is a varied, capricious, collection of miniatures, just a few minutes each, the longest being a 10-minute tribute to Mickey Mouse (please wait for the explanation). At any rate, quite a change since the large-scale collection of Transformation.

Almost all tracks come from Yuja’s large storehouse of encores; she needs many because her recital audiences unvariably demand — and almost always — receive them.

Four brief Rachmaninov pieces lead the way, played with unshowy brilliance, power, and her usual complete authority over the keyboard. The stormy Étude-tableau in A Minor Op. 39 No. 6 is a grand calling card; Op. 39 No. 4 is swift, playful; Op. 39 No. 5 has a quiet, but persistent romantic sweep.

Élégie in E flat minor Op. 3 No. 1, wisely slipped in between No. 4 and No. 5, is meandering, Chopinesque, a change from the mood shared by the Étude-tableaux.

Scarlatti, a Yuja perennial, appears here only with the two-minute-long Sonata in G Major K. 455. It is an irresitible melodic cascade of pearls, and it is over before you can catch your breath.

For contrast, the poignant Melody from Gluck’s Orfeo ed Euridice follows, giving way to Albéniz’s sweeping “Triana,” from Iberia, Book II.

One of Yuja’s heroes, Vladimir Horowitz, is responsible for two transcriptions: the Gypsy Song, from Bizet’s Carmen, and the CD-closing virtuoso Dance macabre by Saint-Saëns (in Liszt’s arrangement). The Carmen excerpt is marked “White House version” because it became famous in Horowitz’s televised White House concert in 1978.

There are many other cuts, including a superb collection of five Scriabin miniatures, but let’s get back to Mickey Mouse. Everybody’s favorite rodent will inevitably come to mind while listening to Yuja’s tempestuous The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, in Victor Staub’s arrangement.

There is meaning behind the selection: Disney’s Fantasia, writes Shirley Apthorp, “along with a performance of Swan Lake, was her first encounter with classical music as a child, and she always enjoys the frisson of recognition that runs through an audience when the familiar melody emerges.”

If you check the Music News column on April 17 you will find out where and how you can see the Disney Fantasia on the big screen again in San Francisco. Meanwhile, enjoy Yuja’s tribute to it.

Star Pianist Establishes the Tempo of the Night

By admin | April 16, 2012

By ANTHONY TOMMASINI
Published: April 13, 2012
New York Times

If you consider how far in advance artists are booked at major American orchestras, it did not take the New York Philharmonic long to schedule the fast-rising Dutch conductor Jaap van Zweden’s debut with the orchestra , which took place on Thursday night at Avery Fisher Hall. Mr. van Zweden, an accomplished violinist who came later to conducting, is not widely known in America. Now 51, he has been thriving as the music director of the Dallas Symphony Orchestra since 2008, and he brought the orchestra to Carnegie Hall last May for an impressive program as part of the Spring for Music Festival.

Mahler’s popular First Symphony was the major work he chose for his Philharmonic debut. From the dynamic, all-out performance he conducted, it seems clear that he came to town determined to make music and make an impression. He did both on Thursday. If the performance was sometimes too feisty and intense, it was certainly exciting.

But before the Mahler, Mr. van Zweden showed his ability to work with a young virtuoso. The pianist Yuja Wang made her subscription series debut with the Philharmonic in this program, having twice performed with the orchestra on the road in 2006. A technically phenomenal performer with a flair for fashion, she has become a YouTube sensation.

Ms. Wang is not above virtuosic stunts, like her hyperfast rendition of Rimsky-Korsakov’s “Flight of the Bumble Bee.” But at her best, she is a thoughtful musician with an ear for color, texture and harmony.

For this debut she played a signature piece: Prokofiev’s Third Piano Concerto, a formidably challenging Neo-Classical work. After the tranquil orchestral introduction, Ms. Wang jumped into the main section of the bustling first movement, tossing off the busy passagework with brio, dispatching bursts of chords and arm-blurring octaves with ease.

There were insightful musical touches in her playing, as in the grim episode with weighty chords that leads to a contrasting playful theme. Ms. Wang punched out those chords with steely sound, while also highlighting a sly inner voice.

Her tempos over all, especially in the finale, were brisk to the point of breathlessness. Mr. van Zweden provided consistent backing, but sometimes rhythmic details sounded rushed and clipped. In a performance of this work with Claudio Abbado and the Lucerne Festival Orchestra, available on a EuroArts DVD, Ms. Wang takes swift tempos, but Mr. Abbado reins her in just enough so that her playing has a little more grace and articulate rhythm. Yet Ms. Wang is a wonder. The audience stood and cheered her.

In the Mahler Mr. van Zweden put a higher priority on musical character and dramatic impact than on flawless execution and textured sound. In the first movement his muscular, insistent interpretation lacked the autumnal cast I associate with this music. In the second movement, a sort of hardy scherzo, Mr. van Zweden captured the heavy-footed, folk-dance spirit, though the playing was almost rigidly emphatic.

The slow movement, seemingly a funeral march, was very good, played with rustic character and just enough rawness to convey the implied parody. Mahler marks the opening of the finale “With violent movement,” and for that, the kinetic Mr. van Zweden is your man. He drew blazing playing from the orchestra, which contrasted with the dreamy beauty of the lyrical midsection.

After the rousing brassy fanfare brought the piece to an end, the audience erupted in an ovation that rivaled Ms. Wang’s, which is saying something.

Talented, Eye-Catching, Unapologetic

By admin | April 12, 2012

By VIVIEN SCHWEITZER
New York Times
Published: April 6, 2012

 MAHLER and Coco Chanel are unusual bedfellows, but the pianist Yuja Wang, on her Twitter feed, quotes both: from Mahler, “Tradition is tending the flame, it’s not worshiping the ashes”; and from Chanel, “A girl should always be two things: classy and fabulous.”

Fashionable and outspoken, Ms. Wang, who at 25 is one of the most gifted pianists of her generation, would make Mahler and Chanel equally proud. She has attracted attention both for her prodigious talents and for her attire, which has raised eyebrows in the tradition-bound world of classical music.

Beginning on Thursday evening Ms. Wang performs Prokofiev’s Piano Concerto No. 3 with the New York Philharmonic conducted by Jaap van Zweden at Avery Fisher Hall.

The Prokofiev concerto is one of her favorite pieces, she said in a recent interview backstage at the Kimmel Center in Philadelphia, where she had just performed Rachmaninoff’s Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini with the Philadelphia Orchestra and Yannick Nézet-Séguin, because it fits her “edgy and kind of sarcastic and naughty personality,” she said.

Ms. Wang, having changed from the elegant dark-blue gown she wore for the concert into a shorter, fitted dress and heels, said she had hoped to record Prokofiev’s Sonata No. 6 for her fourth and most recent Deutsche Grammophon disc, but that the label wanted short pieces and encores. The disc, called “Fantasia,” features miniatures by Chopin, Rachmaninoff, Scarlatti and Scriabin and various arrangements. 

A passionate performer, Ms. Wang meshes an impeccable technique and insightful artistry, evident both on disc and in live concerts. Her New York recital debut at Carnegie Hall featured powerful and nuanced interpretations of Liszt’s Sonata in B minor and the Prokofiev, demonstrating a crystalline touch and a wide coloristic range. Her arresting playing has generated public and critical acclaim, although she says she doesn’t read her reviews.

“Music criticism should be to musicians what ornithology is to birds,” she wrote recently on her Twitter feed.

Her earlier (and equally rewarding) Deutsche Grammophon releases include sonatas and études by Chopin, Scriabin, Liszt and Ligeti; Rachmaninoff concertos with the Mahler Chamber Orchestra and Claudio Abbado; and selections by Stravinsky, Brahms, Ravel and Scarlatti.

Until recently Ms. Wang has focused almost entirely on Romantic and 20th-century works in recordings and in solo recitals.

Germanic repertory like Bach, Mozart and Beethoven “needs much more maturity and growing as a person,” she said. “I can play it for sure, but it’s not at the quality that I want. Everyone plays it, and if I don’t bring something meaningful to it, then I might as well not play it at all.”

Born in Beijing in 1987, Ms. Wang said her mother, Zhai Jieming, a dancer, and her father, Wang Jianguo, a percussionist, were encouraging but never dictatorial about her practicing or career. Several videos on YouTube show a girl with pigtails playing Chopin with poise.

“My dad is really good with rhythm,” Ms. Wang said, “and was always correcting me and telling me, ‘You’re rushing.’ That’s my weakness. Even back then I was rushing.”

After studies at the Beijing Central Conservatory, she went alone at 14 to study at the Mount Royal Conservatory in Calgary, Alberta. “I was like, ‘Freedom!’ ” she said of being on her own. “It was awesome.” She entered the Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia the next year, but her mother was unable to move there as planned because of visa problems. Her parents still live in Beijing.

She has performed in China infrequently since leaving, though she will tour there in November with the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra, led by Michael Tilson Thomas.

Speaking about the explosion of classical music in her homeland, she said, “Being a classical musician is almost like being a pop star in China, and it’s more about power and fame and money. That’s why so many kids are playing. It’s like sports in America. It’s for being more famous, and I don’t really like that. I like Europe more, as people are genuine and it’s part of their culture and they love it for the music, for the sake of music, not for being famous.”

Ms. Wang’s own journey into the public eye came after high-profile substitutions for pianists including Martha Argerich, Evgeny Kissin and Yefim Bronfman. Her talents have also been recognized with prizes like the Gilmore Young Artist Award and the Avery Fisher Career Grant.

The pianist Gary Graffman, who taught Ms. Wang at Curtis, said that during her audition she impressed with her technique. “But that’s no big deal these days,” he added, given that “even the untalented ones” have practiced so much that they play well.

Rather, he added, “it was the intelligence and good taste” of her interpretations that distinguished her. During the ensuing years, Mr. Graffman said, he admired the speed at which she learned repertory, her broad range of artistic interests, her sense of humor and her ability to produce a “gorgeous sound” from even second-rate instruments. She is very self-critical, he added.

Mr. Thomas, the conductor, who has worked with Ms. Wang since she was 17, said: “When I first heard her, I was struck by how coloristic her playing is and how aware she is of the specific colors and character of the orchestra. She will play as a soloist but also as an accompanist when important things are happening in the orchestra. That is an unusual quality for a card-carrying virtuoso.”

Certain forces within the industry, he added, “would like to present her as being a hot young flashy pianist,” but “that’s not what’s she’s really like.”

“She is very focused and serious,” he added.

Mr. Thomas said her independence was also noteworthy. Even as a teenager Ms. Wang showed up at rehearsals and concerts alone, without the entourage of mother, teacher, manager and publicist that he said often accompanies young artists.

Being independent at such a tender age, Ms. Wang said, prepared her for the solitary life of a star concert pianist. She lives near Lincoln Center but is there so seldom that her doorman doesn’t always recognize her.

“Pianists have to be alone all the time, and it’s hard,” said Ms. Wang, whose sociable nature is immediately apparent. While at Curtis she found travel exciting, but “it’s kind of like work now,” she said. “It’s lonely.”

So she spends her vacation time in New York and hangs out with friends. “I love saunas. That’s my way of relaxing.” She added, laughing: “I’m so lazy. People ask me, ‘What sports do you do?’ None. I love to read, and I have a Kindle now.”

If she didn’t have a career as a pianist, Ms. Wang said, she might have opted to be a choreographer, since she loves modern dance. Or a clothing designer, since she is interested in fashion.

Ms. Wang’s attire has generated lively discussions about what is appropriate for classical artists to wear. The orange minidress she wore for a performance of Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 3 with the Los Angeles Philharmonic at the Hollywood Bowl in August set off debate in newspapers and blogs.

Ms. Wang said she was initially both “weirded out” and amused by the reaction, noting that she had already worn the same dress without fanfare in Santa Fe, N.M.; at the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam; and at the Verbier Festival in Switzerland. “Europe loved it,” she said, so she hadn’t thought it would be a big deal to wear it in Los Angeles.

“They were paying attention to this rather than the music,” she said. “Which makes sense, as L.A. is kind of superficial and more visual. But they have rules about what classical musicians should be wearing, which I think is stupid.”

Yet she acknowledged that the publicity might have helped her Carnegie debut in October sell out. For the first half of that concert, she “looked like a nun,” she said, in a long black dress.

“I wanted to do the shock value,” she added. “I can wear long and black too. I like being versatile.”

The veteran artist manager Edna Landau, who advises young musicians, said: “This generation is a much more visual generation. Every artist has a responsibility to look as good as they can. It’s not different than if you are going for a job interview. You’re trying to win over fans and get more engagements, so one should look great.”

The most important factor, of course, will always be a performer’s level of artistry, and since Ms. Wang has proved that she has the musical goods, she can wear whatever she wants. It is no bad thing if she attracts younger listeners and shakes up the sometimes stuffy classical music business in the process.

Ms. Wang recalled that before her Carnegie debut Mr. Thomas told her: “You don’t need the public. The public needs you.”

“That’s how I feel,” she added. “I will just be myself. If they accept me, they do. If they don’t, they don’t. I’m just being myself. When I’m 40, I’m not going to wear a short dress, so I might as well do it now!”

Fast Hands, Swift Rise

By admin | April 12, 2012

By ELLEN GAMERMAN
Wall Street Journal
Published April 5, 2012

Yuja Wang became an Internet sensation a few years ago when a video of her playing “Flight of the Bumblebee” appeared on YouTube, her fingers moving so fast they blurred over the keys. Some viewers were so stunned, they wondered if the video was sped up.

Ms. Wang, a 25-year-old critically acclaimed concert pianist who makes her debut at Avery Fisher Hall with the New York Philharmonic Thursday, said she’s gotten the wrong kind of attention from that video—so much so that she’s banned the frenetic piece by Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov from her repertoire, kept it off her new CD and rebuffed requests by orchestras and fans to perform the work as an encore. “I don’t think that’s a criteria or any standard for being a musician,” she said of her fast playing. “It’s not a sport.”

Her former teacher, the classical pianist Gary Graffman, praises Ms. Wang’s talent and another intangible quality: “She has something you can’t really learn,” he said, “and that’s charisma.”

For her four performances in New York, which the often-touring pianist calls home, Ms. Wang will play Prokofiev’s Piano Concerto No. 3, a physically explosive work that she points out includes many hand crossovers. “[Prokofiev] knows exactly how to make it sound impressive, but look more impressive when you actually see it live,” said Ms. Wang, the Beijing-born child of a dancer and a percussionist. She releases her fourth CD Tuesday, “Fantasia,” a collection of 18 of her shorter, more lighthearted showpieces.

Ms. Wang, who drew notice last year for the short orange dress she wore for a Hollywood Bowl concert, sometimes listens to pop star Rihanna before playing Prokofiev; both artists, she said, channel a raw energy. But before walking onto the New York stage she will probably choose silence. She has been to Avery Fisher many times, but never as a performer. “I know the hall,” she said, “but only from the other side.”

 

Flaunting Virtuosity (and More)

By admin | October 24, 2011

By ANTHONY TOMMASINI
New York Times
Published: October 21, 2011

The 24-year-old Chinese pianist Yuja Wang is not above flaunting her uncanny virtuosity. A video of her effortless performance of a seemingly impossible transcription of “Flight of the Bumblebee” has gone viral on YouTube. And though she comes across onstage as somewhat shy, Ms. Wang has a flair for fashion.

Still, since she first emerged, Ms. Wang has proved herself a sensitive and probing artist. At Carnegie Hall on Thursday night she gave her much-anticipated New York recital debut. From the opening piece, an early Scriabin prelude, Ms. Wang played this Chopinesque music, all rippling left-hand figures and dreamy melodic lines, with a delicacy, poetic grace and attention to inner musical details that commanded respect. This was the first of five diverse and wondrously performed Scriabin selections.

After intermission she offered a rhapsodic, uncommonly nuanced account of the formidable Liszt Sonata in B minor. But the most revealing performance came in Prokofiev’s Piano Sonata No. 6 in A. Completed in 1940, this nearly 30-minute work channels some barbaric, propulsive, harmonically brittle outbursts into a formal four-movement sonata structure. In most readings, intriguing tension results from hearing music of such aggressive modernism reined in by Neo-Classical constraints.

Ms. Wang reconciled these conflicting elements through a performance of impressive clarity and detail. The first movement begins with a hard-driving theme, like some pumped-up march that trumpets the dissonances embedded into its diatonic harmonies. Though the small-framed Ms. Wang did not have a particularly big sound at the piano, she turned this into a virtue by playing with crystalline tone and myriad rich shadings. In the mysterious second theme, which unfolds in wandering parallel octaves, she brought out subtleties that often slip by in other performances. The marchlike Allegretto had sardonic humor, with its theme in sly staccato chords over a galumphing bass line. She shaped the languid, waltzing slow movement beautifully and dispatched the finale as if it were music Prokofiev had written for a chase scene in a silent film, a fresh and enjoyable approach.
That Ms. Wang played the Liszt work with such technical authority was no surprise. I have heard other accounts that better conveyed the ingenious, if elusive, design of this 30-minute multisectional, single-movement score. But Ms. Wang’s magisterial and dazzling performance made the most of every moment.

There were four encores, all transcriptions, including Ms. Wang’s arrangement of Dukas’s “Sorcerer’s Apprentice,” brilliantly realized.

So what did she wear? Ms. Wang had raised expectations on this question by some of her past choices of attire. Last summer she sported a tight, short orange dress for a performance with the Los Angeles Philharmonic at the Hollywood Bowl, provoking comment among critics and fashionistas. But that was Hollywood. For august Carnegie Hall, Ms. Wang looked striking in a simple, elegant black dress, though her shiny stiletto heels were a daring touch. I think she would want it reported that for the second half she changed into a more revealing velvety dress, slit open at the side.

In any event, she is a lovely young woman. If you’ve got it, flaunt it. What matters is that Ms. Wang has got it as a pianist.

Musical Essence

By admin | October 21, 2011

BY HARRY ROLNICK
ConcertoNet.com
Posted: October 20, 2011
Perleman Auditorium, Carnegie Hall, New York

Yuja Wang produced such a brilliant, original, and absolutely unforgettable recital last night that one hesitates to mention specific moments. Nonetheless, part of Liszt’s B Minor Sonata was emblematic of her prowess.

Specifically, the 24-year-old artist started the fugue with one majestic line, played the second line with a sweeter more lyrical tone, continued with the third repetition of the theme with a heldentenor heroism, and continued this fugue with each voice held intact to its character.

Yet so sculptured, so mesmerizing was the entire performance, so deftly did she transform the themes in and out of their dramatic roles, that one feels guilty choosing a particular moment. For Yuja Wang, I feel, is not a force of nature–which signifies simply whirlwind playing–but a force of musical shape, velocity and, above all, clarity.

Such clarity was evident in the five early Scriabin pieces. Outside of the Poème, this music hardly forecast the mystical paradoxical Scriabin, and could have been Chopin redux. Thus, for the B Major and G-Sharp Minor preludes, Ms Wang could have been playing newly-discovered Chopin nocturnes. A controlled tranquility, a soft singing tone, melodic seductions. Each work had a contrast, though, in thundering–never blustering–preludes and etudes, each ending quietly, each a jewel on its own.

One had to compare the Prokofiev Sixth Sonata with another Wang, Xiayin Wang, who nimbly essayed the Third Piano Concerto earlier this week. Nothing was nimble about Yuja Wang’s performance. The first movement was taken at a strict 4/4 pace, with that quirky three-note motif, transformed from signal to alarm, binding it together. The second movement was not completely jaunty, but stung at times, and the slow waltz of the third movement was free and relaxed. The finale was played with all the zeal necessary, ending, somehow inevitably, with the quirky opening figure.

One inevitably must compare Ms. Wang to Lang Lang, as both are products of the “new” China, both are virtuosos, and both studied with Gary Graffman. Lang Lang can offer the most beautiful, luscious playing, but he is never far from either becoming vulgar on the verge of showmanship. Only once, in an encore, did one feel that Yuja Wang was showing off those dextrous digits, but that the music–and her emotional relationship with the music–came first. (That exception was in a madly fast arrangement of Poet and Peasant Overture, but encore kitsch is acceptable).

Ms. Wang’s virtuosity is frankly unbelievable–mainly because she uses it as a tool, not for virtuosity in itself.

In the Liszt B Minor Sonata, Ms. Wang played far far differently than 99 percent of young pianists these days. She played it with warmth, with accents on the rich harmonies, on the connecting motives, on a complete one-movement work.

One usually leaves the Liszt breathless from the excitement. But Liszt composed this not as a showpiece, but a philosophical study in life and transformation. Ms. Wang played it as a complex but undeniable homage to feeling and emotion.

After this, was one ready for encores? Yuja Wang’s playing is too gorgeous to stand on principle. She deftly took Liszt’s arrangement of Schubert’s Gretchen at the Spinning Wheel, Rachmaninoff’s arrangement of Gluck’s melody, that unknown arrangement of the Von Suppé overture–and her own brilliant piano arrangement of Sorcerer’s Apprentice.

The recital (what a petty word for such a revolutionary evening) was a testament to Yuja Wang’s passion, intelligence and, above all, integrity. She must come back here over and over again. And again. For the Carnegie Hall audience last night was, at the end, not appreciative in the usual way. They were transformed.

Pianist Yuja Wang shares virtuoso and expressive gifts in Akron recital

By admin | October 20, 2011

BY DONALD ROSENBERG
Cleveland.com
Posted: October 19, 2011

Yuja Wang has earned international renown for two reasons – startling virtuosity and provocative dresses.

Let’s dispatch the latter first: The Chinese-born pianist wore two lovely gowns – black on the first half, red on the second – during her recital Tuesday at Akron’s E.J. Thomas Hall in the Tuesday Musical Concert Series. But it was what she did at the keyboard that raised the Margaret Baxtresser Annual Piano Concert to a special realm.

At 24, Wang is already a veteran in the orchestra, recital and recording worlds. She’s been hailed for the ability to play anything, no matter how fierce the challenge, and even make music while doing so.

The pianist’s Akron concert – a warm-up for her Carnegie Hall debut Thursday – confirmed the extent to which she applies an individual touch as she tames technical beasts. Wang’s program of works by Scriabin, Prokofiev and Liszt provided ample opportunity for her to delve into terrain both demonic and lyrical.
How such a slender person can draw so much power from a concert grand is something only Wang can tell. The tempestuous writing in Scriabin’s Prelude in B minor, Op. 13, No. 6, and octave cascades in the Etude in G-sharp minor, Op. 8, No. 9, elicited playing of propulsive and sonorous intensity, a bit too much pedal aside.

In four other Scriabin pieces Wang proved she also has poetry in her soul. The composer’s mysticism came through in her dreamy account of two preludes and, especially, the hushed spell she cast on the Poeme in F-sharp major, Op. 32, No. 1.

Both sides of Wang’s artistry were put to the test in Prokofiev’s Sonata No. 6 in A major, Op. 82, which embraces the rapture and dramatic urgency that can be found in the Russian composer’s score for the ballet “Romeo and Juliet.” Himself a pianist of formidable accomplishment, Prokofiev treats the piano with percussive zeal without neglecting its ability to sing.
Wang savored the work’s pungent harmonies, pointed figures and acrobatic flourishes, while also caressing the tender lines and defining textures with exceptional lucidity.

The same qualities applied to her performance of Liszt’s titanic Sonata in B minor. Many pianists concentrate on the extroverted panoply of athletic keyboard feats at the expense of the pensive aspects.

Wang balanced the score’s contrasting transformations. She connected the fierce and ethereal episodes with seamless urgency. What was most striking was her delicate shading of Liszt’s heartfelt musings. The performance allowed the sonata to be something that’s not always achieved – touching.
The pianist didn’t leave without taking the audience on a short, exhilarating ride. Wang gave the encore, Prokofiev’s Toccata, Op. 11, a whirlwind reading that percolated from repeated opening notes to final upward swoop.

Wang stunning at Massry

By admin | October 17, 2011

BY PRISCILLA MCLEAN
Times Union
Published: October 17, 2011

An amazing phenomenon happened at the Massry Center Saturday evening. A charming little 24-year-old Chinese doll dressed in a tight, floor-length black gown tottered in stiletto heels to the Steinway piano. By the second phrase, she had transformed into one of the most powerful, masterful pianists ever to appear in the Capital Region, and had mesmerized the whole audience.

Her program was filled with challenging, difficult, and somewhat esoteric music, beginning with five short pieces by Alexander Scriabin, the 19th-century Russian mystic. The three preludes and etude resembled Chopin on steroids, and Yuja Wang’s hands seemed to liquidly melt into the keyboard when she wasn’t maneuvering evilly difficult left-handed leaps and impossible runs. During the final Scriabin offering, his most characteristic, the Poeme in F sharp major, Op. 32, No. 1, Wang shaped each phrase individually, bringing out the mystic introspection in the music. Somehow she could cajole the barest whisper out of the piano and yet play each note evenly and cleanly.

The Sonata No. 6 in A major, Op. 82 by Sergie Prokofiev varied from playful bright march-like music to sparkling rapid runs. Wang always brought out the little melodies amid driving rapid filigree, and nuanced the gentle poetic passages. The third movement is fiendishly difficult, almost impossible to play, and yet Wang performed note-perfect, as was the whole concert, and with seemingly little effort.

After intermission, to combat any audience sleepiness, Wang returned in a blazingly red tight, backless floor-length gown and sequined straps, with tiny colored feathers in her hair. She then proceeded to turn into Franz Liszt, if one dared close one’s eyes, as she, with unbelievable power, realized his epic Sonata in B minor. Sitting tall, her arms floating above the keys, fingers evenly caressing the notes in the soft passages like water drops, she gave a breathless performance of this music which inverts upon itself.

As if this concert was not difficult enough, Wang also played two encores, both whirlwinds of perpetual motion– Prokofiev’s Toccata and a Liszt transcription of Schubert’s song “Gretchen at the Spinning Wheel.”.Then, bowing very low and smiling while collecting her flowers, this little slender doll tottered off the stage amid continuous and prolonged standing ovation.