On Wednesday night at Walt Disney Concert Hall, acclaimed violinist Ray Chen and pianist Julio Elizalde performed a recital — no, a concert — no, it was really an event!
Anyone who knows Chen knows that he is not a staid musician. He does not fit the mold of your typical classical performer. He engages with the audience both verbally and nonverbally, and his performance on Wednesday night epitomized that.
Between two of the three encores they performed to screaming, whistling fans, Elizalde said to the audience something to the effect of “you make us feel like rock stars.” And that’s what the atmosphere was like at Disney Hall. It was clear that Chen’s reputation, probably on YouTube and other media apps and outlets, had preceded him.
It seemed as if there were many people who were visiting Disney Hall for the first time. Many people applauded between every single movement, including those of the Bach Partita No. 3 in E major, BWV 1006 for solo violin, with which Chen began the second half of the concert. Rather than frowning on that practice, Chen accepted it with a polite thank you to the crowd. When someone got up to leave after Elizalde began playing the beautiful piano introduction to the slow movement of the Beethoven Violin Sonata No. 7 in C minor, Op. 30, No 2, which concluded the first half, Chen noted it with a shrug of his shoulders, which brought chuckles from the audience.
At numerous times during the concert, both Chen and Elizalde talked to the audience, introducing or explaining what they were about to play. At one point, Chen stated that he and Elizalde were feeding off energy from the audience and giving it right back to them. That brought cheers as well.
So, in sum, the mood was festive, celebratory, and exciting; and, oh yes, filled with beautiful music.
Chen and Elizalde began their program with the devilishly difficult Sonata in G minor for Violin and Continuo (“The Devil’s Trill”) by Tartini (arr. by Kreisler). The sonata begins deceptively enough with a beautiful, slow G minor melody in the violin. But throughout three movements, it builds, and there are hints of the nickname of the piece when, in the third movement, Tartini lets loose with the difficult and demanding cadenza, which is filled with trills. Chen had the audience spellbound with his virtuosity and intensity.
As mentioned, the Beethoven Sonata occupied the second and last piece in the first half of the concert. Interestingly, it was introduced by Elizalde, not Chen, which brings up an important point about their collaboration. This was not simply a famous violinist accompanied by a very good pianist. The concert was clearly a joint and equal effort between the two musicians.
Introducing the Beethoven, Elizalde talked about the letter Beethoven wrote to his brothers, called the Heiligenstadt Testament, in which for the first time publicly, Beethoven talked about his increasing deafness and the torment it was causing him and how he was considering suicide. Rather than give into that despondency, however, Beethoven chose to continue to produce some of the most exquisitely beautiful music in the Western canon. That includes the three violin sonatas of Opus 30. From the first few notes, it was clearly Beethoven: with rumbling in the low keys on the piano accompanied by the violin melody. Even though the sonata is in the key of C minor, which suggests the theme of fate that has been associated with his Fifth Symphony, there was much in the sonata that was brighter, and much of it was in the major, not minor, key. Apparently, despite his deafness and depression, Beethoven still found joy in composing. Also, in contrast to the Tartini, the Beethoven sonata gave Elizalde a chance to show his chops, especially as Beethoven was a pianist. And he was very much up to the task. Together, the duo conveyed both the joy and sadness in this sonata.
In the Bach Partita, Chen took liberties with the tempo and the dynamics, turning the first and third movements into playful exercises. For some traditionalists, that might not have sat very well. But on this night and with this audience, Chen was giving the audience exactly what they wanted: beautiful music played with a hint of mischief and Chen’s smiling face throughout the music.
Next on the program was the fiendishly difficult Scherzo fantastique, more often known as La ronde des lutins (“The Dance of the Goblins”) by 19th-century violin virtuoso Antonio Bazzini. Chen introduced this piece, saying that it was the dessert in the multi-course musical meal they were serving, with the Tartini as the appetizer, the Beethoven as the main course, and the Bach as the palate cleanser. Chen went on to say that the Bazzini was mostly for prodigies, that he was well beyond the years of being a prodigy, and that he hoped his fingers would be able to handle the huge demands the Scherzo places on the violinist. Once again eliciting laughs from the audience before he started playing, he shook his hand as if to loosen it up. Then he tore into the piece and performed this showstopper brilliantly, which brought the audience to their feet screaming and cheering once more.
Chen and Elizalde then performed a heartfelt transcription, again by Kreisler, of the sentimental Slavonic Dance No. 2 in E minor, Op. 72 by Dvorak, which might have been a second palate cleanser between two more exciting works.
The formal part of the program concluded with an arrangement by Chen and Elizalde of jazz pianist Chic Corea’s Spain(with excerpts from Rodrigo’s Concierto de Aranjuez). Elizalde said that during the pandemic when he and Chen were quarantined in hotel rooms while on tour, he became bored with his practice and decided to write an arrangement of Spainfor violin and piano. His arrangement required some written parts, but also, in the style of jazz, some improvisations. Again, it was a crowd pleaser, as the two played off each other around the theme of the Corea classic.
Naturally, the audience wanted more, and the duo gave it to them. They played three encores, each time Chen looking at the audience, and once holding his hand up to his ear, as if to ask, “Do you want to hear more?” The first encore, announced once again by Elizalde, was an arrangement of a tango they had heard while on tour in Argentina, A Evaristo Carriego (arr. Ray Chen, Julio Elizalde) by Argentinian composer Eduardo Oscar Rovira. They followed that with Csárdás by Italian composer Vittorio Monti and, finally, Estrellita (arr. Heifetz) by Manuel Ponce.
So, what sets Chen apart from most other soloists? While there is no doubt about his virtuosity, it is his “rock star” persona. Most of all, it is the palpable fun and enjoyment he gets not only in playing some exquisite music, but in interacting with the audience. In both regards, Chen and Elizalde are great ambassadors for classical music.
So, if you have a chance to see Chen perform publicly, do not miss it! It won’t be just another classical concert; it will be an event! You will be in store for a rare treat.
—Henry Schlinger, Culture Spot LA
For information about upcoming concerts, visit www.laphil.com.
Photo of Ray Chen courtesy of the artist