Jun Qing Jake Zhang                    [A-   JMS]

Professor Saslow

Arts in NYC Seminar

November 1st, 2009

Music and Formal Analysis

Having always held the musical alumni of Queens College in high regard, I chose to attend and analyze the recital starring the exuberant violinist Magdalena Garbalinska and the skillful pianist Yumi Hashimoto. The two masterfully collaborated to present works by Beethoven, Bach, Paganini, as well as Debussy. Though there were under thirty attendees at the venue, the Lefrak Hall at Queens College was lit up by the magnificent and always inspiring notes of the Classical genre. It was a delightful and entertaining personal experience, and the tunes played certainly roused several intense emotions.

The atmosphere was slightly dreary and rather somber for a musical performance. Granted, the Classical genre demands a type of higher-class etiquette, but I had previously assumed that said “rules” would change due to the location being a place of higher education rather than a more prestigious musical venue. In addition, despite the colorful music, there were few members of the audience who appeared truly interested. The true enthusiasts, including esteemed professors, were seated close to the stage, whereas the plain clothed students took seats near the back. A small minority gave their utmost attention and applauded loudly after every triumphant finish, while the rest of the audience sat quietly and provided a few cheering gestures out of respect.

The performers carried themselves professionally and were classic examples of what one might expect a Classical virtuoso performer to look like. Both Ms. Garbalinska and Ms. Hashimoto were dressed in eloquent all-black outfits. The performance began with a traditional sonata, Sonata for Piano and Violin by Ludwig van Beethoven. The first movement of the sonata was Allegro con brio, which started with a very quick tempo. Initially, the melody was very cheerful and elongated, constituted by a range of middle to high notes. The violin reminded me of a woman singing out of happiness, due to the rather high pitch and rising tune. The piano thickened the sound with its low bass chords.

About five minutes in, a two-minute segment began in which the piano ceased to provide a harmony for the violin, and began a sequence of dialogue with the other instrument. It was a repetitive sound, as the counterpoint seemed to be haphazard—intersecting at certain measures, perhaps serving as interruptions for the “conversation” as well as repeats and overlaps, which served as agreements or nodding in the communication. This pattern continued for a while until slowly, the tempo began to speed up and began to present a more tense and hostile sound, telling the audience that perhaps an argument had been raised.

At this point, the consistently secure rhythm first heard dissipated, and from then on until, the pace changed and bits of syncopation were heard. Emotions of anger and fury were demonstrated through the increase in dynamics of the violin, and the use of higher pitches in combination with the unique texture of the violin, all working together to mimicked the screaming sound of a human.

In the background, the piano effectively rung up the scale while the violin “shrieked.” In a storytelling sense, the conversation between the two instruments had risen into a physical and forceful battle. In addition, the violinist was moving in an explosive and violent manner. At this point, every member of the listening audience probably felt their hearts beat faster in sync with the quick rhythm.

Towards the end, the piano would provide a countermelody to the violin in conjunction with a type of “catch your breath” rhythm where either instrument would suddenly stop short while the other resumed. To a listener, it appeared the argument was not about to reach a resolution, as apparently an emotional overwhelm caused both instruments to “get choked up” in passion.

Due to my previous ignorance of Classical music, I was not that a pause signified not the end of the piece, but rather the end of the movement. Thus I was surprised when the sonata moved on to the second act, Adagio contabile, and this heavily constrasted its predecessor. Its slow tempo, soft pianissimo dynamics, and thin harmony successfully drew out emotions of guilt and sorrow. At this point, the storyline had moved on to the “grieving stage.” The rhythm was piano heavy and slow which made brought out feelings of burden and heartbreak. Apparently, the thick texture of the piano was more representative of the sadness provoked than that of the thin and somewhat weaker violin sound. The mood was certainly one of discomfort. What was also quite surprising was that once again, the violinist moved to the music but seemed aimless and shaken in her movements, perhaps using another method to convey the emotion in the piece.

After another brief pause, the third movement entitled Scherzo Allegro began, and we now saw the reconciliation stage of the work. The pianist began the piece with soft dynamics and with a melody consisting of notes in the middle C range. Whereas the tune from the previous act consisted of notes going down the scale, the piano’s notes crept higher. At this point, my intrigue allowed me to quickly recognize that the violinist then repeated the same melody as the pianist. The pianist then played a different, slightly happier melody produced by higher notes, and the violinist responded. In my opinion, this was symbolic of disappearing tension. At one point, the piano had a brief two-minute solo as Ms. Garbalinska plucked softly and slowly in the background.

Finale Allegro, the final movement, was a brilliant and triumphant finish to the work. Despite being about half the time of the other movements, its invigorating fast pace and crescendo dynamic accentuated the rich texture of the music. The melodies of the two instruments were initially spaced out and disconnected. About three minutes before the explosive last note of the finale, they began to synchronize and create a gospel-like and uplifting conclusion full of grand harmonization.

After a brief, ten-minute intermission, Ms. Garbalinska stepped onto the stage again to a mild, but enthusiastic applause. She walked to the center of the stage, much closer to the audience than before and slightly angled, and confidently began to bow the first movement, Adagio, of the piece Sonata for Violin Solo, composed by Johann Sebastian Bach. This piece felt as though it were a celebration of solitude, as the slow pace of the tempo made it seem as though there was an emphasis on concentration and precision on each individual note. The sound slowly thickens as the piece goes on, signifying the growth physically and in spirit of both the piece and its composer. This is achieved by a rapid increase in volume and an up-down circular bowing technique that made it sound as though there were multiple notes being played, adding depth.

There were a few things that I personally noticed which contrasted from having an additional pianist on stage. The first being that the music lost several layers of its harmony provided by its accompanying instrument, thus making the sound slightly more hollow but adding a tender and personal touch. It allowed for the sound to be rather delicate and enabled a closer connection to the listeners. Secondly, when the second movement of the solo, Fuga, began after Adagio, I realized that more techniques could be utilized due to a higher focus on one individual instrument. Fuga was a furious and upbeat melody, characterized by its presto tempo and wide bowing method.

The final piece that I stayed for, Caprice op. 1 no. 9, was an unusual piece that emphasized the violin’s sharp timbre. I found it surprisingly difficult to listen to, as I had previously been enchanted by the violinist’s smooth playing. I found myself listening to a dissonant tune. The notes were definitely at the highest of the violin’s capabilities, and at certain times sounded squeaky. Certain notes appeared to be forced in, and the piece reminded me of an overwhelm of human emotion. There was shakiness captured by the staccato notes that reminded me of engulfing laughter or crying. It certainly lived up to its namesake, as caprice by definition means “sudden, impulsive, or unpredictable change.” The piece stayed in the upper ranges the entire ten minutes, and its melody was constantly shaky.

Despite the outrageous last piece, the violinist received quite an astounding ovation for her effort. The works that I heard ranged from incredibly emotionally impacting to strange and novel. While both players displayed a remarkable amount of the talent, the arrangements by the composers themselves left me in awe. Leaving the hall, I found myself in amazement at the broad range of feelings that this music had captured and experiencing a sensation of profound gratitude for the beauty of the tunes.