Based exclusively on his concerto round, there were many who felt Alan Chow should have won last year's Gina Bachauer International Piano Competition.
As it was, he finished a strong second, something borne out by the attendance at his solo recital Wednesday evening in the Temple Square Assembly Hall. And, for the most part, by the recital itself.Here were the same clarity and control I noted in his playing a year ago, whether in the more impressionistic pages of Ravel's poetically inspired "Gaspard de la Nuit" or the dark power of "Scarbo," that same piece's finale.
"Ondine" in particular profited from the pianist's touch, watery but transparent, its delicacy giving way to a climax of unusual strength. And although I have heard more atmospheric evocations of the gallows than this "Gibet," with its quietly tolling B flat, again the pianist managed to maintain clarity and continuity. After which the eruptive energy of "Scarbo" likewise seemed a bit reined-in but, as with most Ravel, better too much classicism than not enough. In addition to which Chow appeared to be saving his biggest guns for the finish.
A certain rhythmic unsteadiness reared its head in two places: (1) a Chopin "Barcarolle" whose uneven progress suggested undue concentration on tonal effects at the expense of the piece's inner motion, and (2) a Haydn sonata - the Hob. XVI:39 in G major - whose ultra-dreamy Adagio departed noticeably from the music's classical frame.
At the same time there was plenty of momentum in the closing pages of the Chopin, here projected ringingly, and the outer sections of the Haydn were wonderfully light and fanciful, with a freshness that proved especially winning in the quicksilver, almost Scarlattian finale. As with most everything else, moreover, voices were appealingly balanced and the textures remarkably clear.
The Haydn turned out to be a substitution for the sonata listed in the printed program. Similarly the two Liszt pieces were replaced by a contemporary work, the 1983 Piano Fantasy of Chow's department chairman at the University of Arkansas (and former U. of U. graduate), James Greeson.
On this exposure it is an occasionally quirky but generally accessible piece, moving from a tinkly, Takemitsu-type opening (complete with strumming effects inside the piano) to a jerky, somewhat darkly ironic finale, into whose dancing chords the sound of the Nauvoo Bell fit with comparative ease.
In between the moodiness grew in density and volume, interspersed with almost Ravelian interludes. (Or was it simply that I knew I was going to be hearing "Gaspard"?) But whatever the challenge, Chow met it with sensitivity and panache, a valuable combination in any pianist.
Finally kudos to Temple Square for the effort its hosts appear to be making to re-emphasize the importance of concert decorum. At least this listener has appreciated the reminders not to applaud between movements (which would have been ruinous in the Ravel) and to keep extraneous noise to a minimum. The result: Both this audience and the one Saturday in the Tabernacle could hardly have been better behaved, and the real ovations could not have been heartier.
In other words, everybody wins.