Olmos Ensemble with Christopher Guzman
Once a Wunderkind, now an artist
May 13, 2010The Olmos Ensemble closed its 15th season with an extraordinary concert anchored -- no, propelled -- by guest pianist Christopher Guzman, May 11 in First Unitarian Universalist Church. The San Antonio native paired up with a succession of excellent Olmos regulars in four works, three from the 20th century, covering a wide stylistic range.
Guzman first came to public notice in 1996 when, as a 15-year-old co-winner of the Youth Orchestras of San Antonio concerto competition, he dashed off a spirited, confident account of the first movement of Prokofiev’s Third Concerto. He went on to earn bachelor’s and master’s degrees from Juilliard and now is pursuing an artist diploma at the New England Conservatory. Next month he’ll be playing in the preliminary round (at least) of the prestigious Naumburg International Piano Competition in New York.
In a recital two years ago at UT-Austin, where he was then pursuing a doctorate, Guzman had showed impressive growth, but he still seemed in some ways more a pianist than a musician. His Olmos appearance was the first in which he seemed fully formed as a mature artist with something to say about everything he played. His distinctive soloistic zest and technical brilliance were still fully intact, but he also was an alert and sensitive collaborator. Gratifyingly, he was as persuasive in the most intimate, subtle music as in the biggest, boldest passages.
Speaking of zest and technical brilliance, those two qualities don’t get any zestier or more brilliant than in clarinetist Ilya Shterenberg’s masterful performance in Francis Poulenc’s Sonata for Clarinet and Piano. (The clarinet part was composed for Benny Goodman.)
A program note cites music critic Harold Schonberg’s assertion that Poulenc “was not a ‘big’ composer, for his emotional range was too restricted.” I don’t think that’s quite accurate. The emotional range of this sonata, as in much of Poulenc’s music, is very wide indeed -- there is wry wit, wild abandon, searching seriousness, rhapsodic lyricism -- but the emotions often are layered or even contradictory. Poulenc maintains decorum in their expression, but that does not mean the extremes of feelings are absent.
Both Shterenberg and Guzman fully conveyed the emotional complexity of this music. Guzman’s shaping of the line in the slow middle movement showed great depth, as did his way of emphasizing certain harmonies that supported the clarinet line and helped push the music forward.
Hornist Jeff Garza joined Guzman in Paul Hindemith’s Sonata for Horn and Piano, a work whose granitic, analytical neoclassicism may be more admirable than lovable. The sheen of Garza’s tone, the sheer size of Guzman’s performance and the bounding energy they shared made this music seem unusually generous.
Swiss composer Frank Martin’s music deserves more frequent hearing. His Ballade for Flute and Piano is a satisfying piece, the flutist spinning out a nearly uninterrupted river of sinuous melody with a searching unsettled quality. Flutist Tallon Perkes nailed the French style and feeling, and Guzman painted the atmospheric harmonies with idea brush strokes.
The big surprise of the evening came from a surprising source, the 19th-century B-list composer Amilcare Ponchielli. His Capriccio for Oboe and Piano is an entertaining and showy piece, not one of great depth, but the performance was memorable for Guzman’s absolutely convincing Italian style. (Yes, he’d spent considerable time in Italy.) Mark Ackerman delivered the demanding oboe part with an attractively centered, limpid tone.
Mike
Greenberg
