A preference towards elegance of form and beauty of harmony earned Saint-Saëns (left) a place among the classically-inclined, not so much the Romantics. His monumental "Organ Symphony" is partly an attempt to explore orchestral colours, including within the orchestra said organ and even a piano (four hands). The SSO made it clear however that their view of the work would be weighty and expressive, but also articulate. The orchestra impressively maintained the instrumental balance so crucial in revealing the orchestral palette.

Friday: the opening staccato theme was pointed, while the broad spectrum of brass achieved Berliozian vigour. Kamu's vision of the beautiful Adagio was intimate yet somehow grand, with richly glowing string playing and evocatively dark-toned winds, including organ. The balance also produced a finely sculpted Allegro moderato.

The last time this symphony was played here, under Choo Hoey, it was very enjoyable too. Still, that old wall of pipes (as I affectionately call the VCH organ) would ultimately be no match against a full orchestral fortissimo, but its contribution was not ineffective and organist (and curator of this organ) Margaret Chen was greatly appreciated. Nevertheless, on Saturday she held the final pedal of the Adagio far far too long for my tastes. This is particularly undesirable because the combination of VCH acoustics and its organ makes for little or no reverberation. So, long exposed notes just end abruptly, like a synthesizer (without the fade or reberb on), and spoil the atmosphere at that point. Indeed, as the organ's voice does not float into the hall, but stays near the pipes, this is quite an anticlimax. Nevertheless, this isn't Dr Chen's fault. Let's hope that her supervision of the Esplanade's organ will bring grand results, as it has done for the heavenly interior of the Malaysian PO's Dewan Filharmonik Petronas hall (their April 10 concert is reviewed here).

The finale had no lack of Romantic fervour or weight of volume, and Kamu's slowing down for the massive climax before the thunderous conclusion could not but make one go home happy. On Saturday, he slowed down even more! Either day, Kamu's conducting was concise, very pointed and effective, with the SSO responding appropriately.

Similar Opinions: Johann D'Souza on Friday's Fireworks

Never have I been so excited with a fiddler of this nature since hearing Nikolaj Znaider last year in his rendition of the Bruch Violin Concerto (click here for the review). Li Chuan Yun's performance of Khachaturian's violin concerto was packed with enthusiasm, vitality and coupled with a scorching dynamite technique, he gave a totally new meaning to the word risk. With so many good fiddlers around it is often difficult to give an edge to a technician. However, listening to Li, I was held in jaw-dropped awe-inspired position - right through the three movements. Breaking hair on his bow from the initial entry, the word "caution" was never in his vocabulary. I for one cannot fault him for his style or his mannerism - they were unique and very much his own. Dressed in a black shirt with buttons at the cuffs loosened, Li greeted the crowd in a rather unassuming manner. However if you were unimpressed by first impressions all this was immediately thrown out the door from the initial bow stroke. Possessing a technique far superior from what I have seen in a long while, every facet of his playing is amazing: his pizzicati, double-stops, vibrato, bow strokes and speed were phenomenal. I am quite inclined to say every thing about him and nothing - nothing because there isn't much to put in words - this violinist has to be heard and seen to be believed. For a work that can sound so ordinary in the hands of even a great violinist, Li took on a pace which was slightly faster than usual, but all this seemed very much under his control. Certain rushed moments were always filled with intensity and his bow strokes were filled with devilish passion and power. It seemed as if his bow was controlled by a force far beyond the capacity of a normal human and with that kind of pace and ferocity the only person that comes to mind is Jascha Heifetz. While the composer is Armenian, Li was able to bring out or create a tone of Chineseness in his interpretation which fits perfectly in the music. A student of Dorothy Delay, every note he played was immaculately clear. Even in his improvised "Jazz" encore inculcated the presence of Sarasate, the devilish passions of Paganini and the showmanship of Ysaye. While the applauding crowd would not let him leave till he performed an encore, it was our SSO who cheered him on and wanted to really hear his solo. The antics performed tonight have completely stunned me - I am obliged to ask: what more can be done on the violin?

In fact, the happiest thing about this concert was the audience's acquaintance with 19-year-old (as at the end of this April) violinist Li Chuan Yun. Always the skeptic about "prodigies", I was simply not expecting to be completely bowled over by this young man. I am always ready to say "ah, great technique but where's the musicality?" - but in this case, the question simply never came up at all. Prior to the concert, an SSO violinist was already all praise for Mr Li, and here and there I heard snippets of Mr Kamu's impression of the violinist's phenomenal talent.

Dressed in a silk/satin black shirt on Friday (rather like a discotheque bouncer) and a formal suit on Saturday, the former betrayed something special in this quaint young man who was constantly enjoying himself on stage, while the latter was a great decoy to the unsuspecting audience. Especially once you see how this guy moves with the music , majestically spreading his feet apart, leaning into the music; or shaking his bow with eyes knit restlessly, turning his body to face the torrents of orchestral tutti, and moving to the music with a kind of immersed controlled ecstasy.

On Friday, the intensity of Li's playing broke hairs immediately on his bow at his first galloping entry in Khachaturian's Violin Concerto. On Saturday, hairs broke on six occasions. His instrument tone leaps and bounces from his violin, focused and yet easy, unforced. On Friday, the tone was faultless, but on Saturday, the drama reached another level when a string broke (Yes! Read on...)

Li's playing throughout was like a furious series of clockwork gears, faultlessly churning passage after passage of unstoppable momentum. Not that this was just all technique - his enunciation of melodic lines are nuanced like a human voice. In other words - dare I say it? - like those of Heifetz and Oistrakh. Dreamy lyric tunes are turned with Heifetzian grace, while intonation effects are pulled off masterly. Even the mightiest attacks are rendered with Olympian grace, with consistently impeccable choice of phrasing and spiccato bouncing effortlessly as stones skipping across water.

As I was listening again on Saturday, my eyes and mouth widening more and more, it suddenly dawned on me that our intrepid soloist was using a different cadenza for the first movement. This other cadenza was somewhat longer than the one used on Friday, and more dramatic. In particular, the silences between each passage - with Li dramatically dropping his bow away from the violin, pausing, and bringing it back up to the heated strings - was nerve-wrecking! A stunned audience breathed again at the end of this first movement. Someone behind me whispered, "Awesome." (On Friday night, if you heard a small handful of people clapping, I was one of them).

In the Andante sostenuto, Li meltingly slid into his languid solo, stirring his orchestra to dreams. His breathtakingly unfazed sense of rubato and musical flavour in the Armenian composer's concerto was simply irresistible. I was so stunned by the "rightness" of Li's commanding interpretation that it seemed to me that he was composing the work on the spot! I mean, with all due respect, the composer (left) seems to disappear from the entire thing! All that was left was Li Chuan Yun on stage playing the concerto not as if it was written for him but - how do I explain this? - as if the concerto was his very own. The music sounded so "matured" in his hands, his phrasings and style were completely attuned to the music's personality. Every detail of the score seemed to have been incarnated and given life right on stage.

Meanwhile, the SSO threw themselves willingly into the wizardry of their guest soloist. Fearless at taking enormous risks, Li spun like a gut-wrenching tornado in his cadenza just before the end. Man, would I love to hear this guy do the Sibelius!! Please, someone do the world a favour and make him play the Sibelius!

On Saturday night, disaster threatened to strike as a string broke on Li's violin. Although he was not stunned, he was visibily panicked. Kamu conducted on. Unfortunately, our concert master was so engrossed in his part he didn't even notice when Li thrust his fiddle at him and frantically gestured at the broken string - the orchestra was still driving away when a hesitant Souptel handed his violin to Li. (My point being, with all due respect to our concert master, he should have been more alert as it is his duty to make a quick exchange when the soloist's string breaks, rather than wait for the soloist to embarassingly ask for his instrument. Right?)

As Li attacked his replacement instrument, it was obvious that Souptel's violin (to which Li later appreciatively and amusingly kissed, gave the thumbs-up and called his violin's "brother") had a much brighter tone. But miraculously, as Li played, the tone got darker and darker, until it sort of resumed the voice Li had been using throughout!

As the concerto concluded, the crowd exploded. Me and my three fellow Inkpotters had already decided at the end of the first movement that a standing ovation was in order, but to my delight, we were not the first to stand up.

BUT, to our complete disgust, something really stupid happened. As we were there standing and clapping - Li deserved no less - an idiot woman two rows behind us was telling us, in Mandarin, to sit down! Unbelievable! Here we were giving a standing ovation - the rarest thing in a Victoria Concert Hall/SSO concert - and this person here was selfishly concerned more for her own view (because we were blocking her)! If you wanted to see the violinist, godamnit stand up! If not, how do we give rare deserving soloists an ovation? For the reader's information, there were many who were standing up in the rows further back under the balcony: it seemed that it was mainly the people in the (good) seats who refused to stand. It was so incredibly selfish, we thought. Excuse me, but did you even know what we were doing? I thought it was very obvious! And to make matters worse, another idiot came up and also asked us to sit! Amazing! Thank you, Singapore!

Or maybe not Singapore - if you - yes you the woman with the China accent and you the expat friend of the SSO with the loud mouth: know that you actually dared to obstruct a standing ovation for a deserving musician who just played one hell of a concerto for you. A pox on you two for denying him the ovation. And if I ever see you standing up for the "Hallelujah" chorus and blocking MY view, don't be surprised if a programme booklet comes flying at you.

Anyway, back to the concert. On Friday night, Li came back on stage for an encore, glaring (in jest, I think, but for a while it didn't look it!) at Souptel for not clearing the orchestra off! He said "Jazz", and launched into an improvisation on such a tune. According to sources, Li had heard something he liked on radio and simply improvised on the tune! To quote Schumann: "Hats off, gentlemen! A genius!"

Even more spectacular was Saturday's encore - Li (left) astounded everyone with his finger-acrobatics, pulling off a hair-raising yet superbly cheeky account of Paganini's death-defying Nel cor più non me sento. Played on Souptel's violin, Li both amused and amazed the audience with his dramatic left-hand pizzicati, playing arpeggios up into the highest positions, scampering up and down the fingerboard - at one point, Li stopped for a split second, swiftly tightened his bow-hair, and shot back into the music! Now that's Paganinian showmanship!

It's always a good sign when the SSO players put down their instruments and clap heartily with their hands. On both nights, this was happening virtually across the stage. It seemed that although Kamu may have been conducting the orchestra, it was plentifully obvious that Li Chuan Yun was the source of their inspiration - and propulsion!

Watch this guy in the future, I say. Ladies and gentlemen: we have a prodigy.

Chia Han-Leon is not in fact, supportive of standing up for the Hallelujah chorus - click here for more details. Both he and Johann D'Souza are trained snipers with projectile programme booklets.

Click to Return to the Concert Index!... or Visit the Inkvault archives!

454: 19.4.1999 ©Chia Han-Leon & Johann D'Souza

Explore the Flying Inkpot