When monstrosity meets poeticism
I briefly commented on Yuliana Avdeeva’s Prokofiev 3rd concerto in “the microclimate of music.” I encountered her performance of the 2nd concerto. Once again, I’m totally mesmerized, convinced, and ignited by Prokofiev’s music. I have encountered people who are suspicious of the music making process and who foolishly designate music as the business of charlatanism. In fact, music is “good” whenever the performance intrigues us to further explore the musical genealogy behind and to take a look at the score. I think this is the standard for “good” music. Good music compels us to love the work. On the other hand, bad music makes us resistant to the work. If I say I hate music, I don’t necessarily hate the music per se — most likely I hate the performance. The criteria for good music is concise as such. Avdeeva’s Prokofiev 2 under the batonless Currentzis exemplifies the quality of “goodness” in music.
What does Prokofiev 2 mean to a piano player? It represents a most eloquent victory for a professional pianist. It means that the pianist is equipped with the physical and mental tenacity, the technical fluency, and the collaborative mastery that every pianist would have possibly craved for.
To conquer Prokofiev’s 2nd concerto means larger than life. If a pianist excels at a performance of this monstrously demanding work, the pianist is said to have reached a monumental destination in the professional life. Yuja Wang has performed and toured Prokofiev 2nd more than 70 times. Of course, while the performance is replicable, Yuja Wang is not. Every other pianist who risks at masterings this concerto is likely either to be forgotten or a mediocrity — unfortunately, music performative arts is always obnoxiously competitive and harsh. Not every Faust could meet their Mephisto. Even when they do, they are mostly played by the devil. A younger version of myself (in high school) once wrote in the journal, “I don’t feel like I am the one playing the piano. I feel like piano is playing me” (我觉得不是我在玩钢琴，而是钢琴在玩我。）
One of the (many) features that reputes the concerto is the cadenza in the 1st mvt. Of course, the 2nd mvt is notoriously monstrous as well, by virtue of the chromaticism in piano for an entire movement. Many pianists played the 1st cadenza with effortlessness, not just in terms of their own technical levels, but also in terms of the musical impression they endowed. The cadenza could be musically framed as effortless, even though the technical difficulty demands tremendous pianistic level. The music thus would sound easy-going. Yet is ease the atmosphere that Prokofiev wants?
Yuliana Avdeeva shows us otherwise. I don’t think she is technically frightened when playing the cadenza. Winner of Chopin competition, she has gathered the techniques that a pianist will ever need. To my surprise, the music under the mastering of such brilliant techniques expresses grief. Frankly, I was holding my breath listening to the cadenza: I don’t worry that Yuliana Adeeva would make a technical mistake, such as playing the wrong chord or memory slip or anything like that; I am simply seized by the emotional depth of her cadenza. Few pianists invest so much emotional intensity into the cadenza. Cadenza usually is only seen a spot to exhibit technical capacity. A cadenza could be “easily” played in the style of showmanship/showwomanship, with a piles of notes pouring out of the piano like a hale in Colorado, which arrives fast and goes away fast. My point is, nobody barely remembers anything other than “omg this is so frigging fast.”
Thankfully, Yuliana Avdeeva doesn’t take the typical path. Her cadenza shows us how much possibilities music performance has. She plays an orchestra on the keyboard, expresses struggles and hardship, and almost some solemn rituality. Nobody knows what exact message this passage wants to send. Avdeeva’s cadenza implies painfulness and the painfulness to get out of painfulness. When the orchestra enters again and parallels with the fading piano, waves of goose-bumps come to me. I’m possessed by awe-struck forces that are too mysterious and too transcendental, that we have to apply some unfathomable vocabularies here to fathom music.
This is good music.