East Neuk Festival: Yeol Eum Son

Crail Church - 30/06/23

The East Neuk Festival afternoon performance on the 30th June was a return to the magnificent Steinway in the altar area of Crail Church for an eclectic programme of piano music, delivered by South Korean virtuosa Yeol Eum Son and comprising works by Mozart, Janáček and Kapustin.  The recital included two Mozart works, the C-minor Fantasia K475 and the Sonata K457 in the same key, as well as two contrasting 20th-century works, the profound Janáček Sonata 1. X. 1905, subtitled ‘From the Street’ and the jazzy Sonata No.2 composed in the 1980s by Ukrainian composer Nikolay Kapustin.  Before turning to the Mozart, I will consider the 20th-century pieces, which came second and last in the running order, and both of which were first-time hearings for me.

Janáček’s 2-movement ‘From the Street’ was prompted by an atrocity in 1905.  The struggle for national identities in the Austro-Hungarian Empire, which would eventually spark the First World War, was being brutally suppressed.  A demonstration in support of the establishment of a Czech-speaking university in the Moravian capital of Brno was charged by Austrian forces and a carpenter František Pavlík was bayoneted to death.  The two movements, Předtucha (Foreboding) and Smrt(Death) foreshadow some of the raw emotions found in Shostakovich’s 11th Symphony of half a century later.  Yeol Eum Son gave these the fullest expression.  The first movement, in a melancholy melody with fierce emotional outbursts, had phenomenal dynamics which exploited both instrument and acoustics fully.  The second movement, the melodies of which I felt foreshadowed the graphic bluntness of the orchestral rhapsody ‘Taras Bulba’ of a decade later, were initially calmly meditative, but build to a climax of grief and rage.  I found it very moving and believe the work received the fullest advocacy.

Kapustin’s ‘classical jazz’ is engaging, theatrical and supremely enjoyable.  Parts of it sound improvised, though it is fully notated and structured according to classical conventions.  The first of the 4 movements, Allegro molto, is full of urban swagger with added blues and boogie-woogie elements and a whimsical coda.  It was played with fabulous articulation and stylish rhythmic verve.  The scherzo, Allegro assai, recalled the styles of Ravel and Gershwin, without being in any sense derivative, incorporating a rhythmically driven tempo with a French lyric flavour in the melody.  Its trio section was slower and dreamier but with an underlying strutting pulse.  The third movement, Largo-allegro, started dreamily like Gershwin’s ‘Summertime’, idiomatically and lyrically suggestive of the voice of Sarah Vaughan, subtle and elegant.  It suddenly launched into a rapid scurrying urban scene, which called to my mind ‘The Masque’ from Bernstein’s ‘Age of Anxiety’ Second Symphony (1949).  Fabulously well played.  The finale, Allegro vivace, is a wild, crazy dash, clearly fiendishly difficult, but played flawlessly and characterfully, closing the programme with a great crowd-pleaser and predictably enthusiastic applause, cheers and foot-stamping.

The perspicacious reader may be wondering why a critique of the Mozart has been left till last and sensing a ‘but’.  And yes, I do have issues.  Before exploring them, I must acknowledge that Yeol Eum Son has recorded the complete Mozart sonatas and that this project has won some praise.  I refer only to what I saw and heard in Crail on 30th June, the two C-minor pieces.  Nor do I mean to suggest that Mozart can’t be edgy – Mozart can be anything to anyone, and all things to all men.  Even in C-minor. But he only speaks through performance, and the listener must be drawn into the experience by a performer that knows his genius and seeks to convince others.  The great Mozart interpreters adopt phrasing that breathes, with tiny gaps that make the listener lean forward involuntarily so as not to miss a detail.  Dynamic contrasts should be subtle and serve the expression, again drawing the listener into the magic of shared experience.  When left and right hand are given material that appears like dialogue, the listener should hear different voices. This did not happen with Yeol Eum Son’s Mozart, at least not for me.  The Fantasia which opened the programme was not short on dynamic contrast, but the phrasing was uniformly emphatic and syllabic.  Far from leaning forward, I found myself involuntarily sat back in my pew, the better to weather the onslaught.

The first movement of the Sonata was no less ‘in your face’.  Well-articulated, but the phrasing was driven and metronomic, though undoubtedly dramatic.  The Adagio second movement was too fast, so while, with a nod to Eric Morecambe, all the notes were played in the right order, the opportunity for dialogue between left and right hand was missed.  There were, however, moments of great beauty in this movement too.  The finale, Allegro assai, at last delivered some of the Mozart C-minor experience, melodramatic and engaging with characterful use of ritardando and tenuto.  If only these sensibilities had informed the first two movements too …  Perhaps it’s true: Mozart is the most difficult to perform because technique alone is not enough.