“Magdalene Ho was dubiously eliminated from the recent Van Cliburn competition after a first-round performance in which she showed more character than all the rest put together … One non-judging pianist, Anna Geniushene, summarized: She has something that maybe 0.1% of pianists have: real spontaneity, and that rare ‘silent intensity’ that doesn’t impose itself — it simply exists,” according to Slipped Disc.
One of the listeners at this year’s Van Cliburn was Gary Levinson, Senior Principal Associate Concertmaster of the Dallas Symphony Orchestra, a respected voice in the international music community. After hearing Magdalene perform, he reached out to Concerts in America without hesitation to organize a multi-city tour, which drew a good crowd for the Boston recital in the Old South Church. The interior of the church is a polychromatic marvel of Venetian Gothic. The resident Steinway concert grand piano, unfortunately, was another matter.
Levinson gave a detailed introduction to Ho’s program of Bach, Adès and Schumann, concluding by asking everyone to hold their applause until the very end of the intermission-less concert
The diminutive 21-year old materialized in black, and quickly embarked on Bach’s Capriccio on the Departure of a Beloved Brother, six short musical vignettes, ostensibly composed for Bach’s brother Johann Jacob, an oboist, when he left for Sweden. In the BWV 992, written before Bach hit his stride, even accomplished pianists tend to slide into repetitive, linear and predictable patterns. But from the beginning Aria, the Adagio “Friends Gather & Try to Dissuade Him from departing,” Ho’s sensitivity and nuance were apparent. Her playing has been described as poetic and compelling, and she steeped her Bach in emotions that brought this programmatic piece to life. Ho shone especially bright in the “Lament” and final “Fugue in Imitation of the Postilion’s Horn,” despite the painfully out-of-tune and unevenly voiced Steinway. From mf on down she was able to extract some finely voiced tones.
Thomas Adès composed the Three Mazurkas, Op. 27, in 2009 for Emmanuel Ax, for Chopin’s bi-centennial anniversary. They are described as “a bold reinvention of the Polish dance form,” a claim that stretches reality. Unlike the whimsical, grounded Polish dances Chopin composed, these pieces seem otherworldly and disembodied, verging on atonal music, and their unpredictable rhythms and constantly changing meters are more milky way than ballroom, certainly no invitation to dance. But Ho produced lovely, atmospheric notes that drifted off into the ether, occasionally interrupted by thunderbolts.
Schumann’s Opus 6, Davidbündlertänze, a collection of 18 pieces, constitutes a vacillating dialogue between Schumann’s alter egos of Floristan and Eusebius. The work is based on a Mazurka by Clara Wieck, who would later become Schumann’s wife, and he credits her as “practically my sole motivation for writing it.” The German titles for each of these “dances” indicate either a tempo or sentiment, except for No. 17, Wie aus der Ferne, (As if from afar). Of course the pieces are all wonderful, but Ho particularly exceled with No. 4, Ungeduldig, a passionate rendition with great contrasts, No. 7, Nicht Schnell, with terrific rubatos and nuance, No. 8, Frisch, where she perfectly captured the humorous character that borders on being rude. But the high point of the recital came in No. 17, Wie aus der Ferne, where she created a perfect illusion of veiled distance, completely mesmerizing the hall; the quietude was a remarkable feat inasmuch as the slightest movement would cause the pews to squeak in protest. No. 18 prolonged the spell, and when finally the applause came, Ho took a quick bow and immediately vanished into the sidelines.
Ho deserves a much better piano, there is no doubt that the instrument at hand vitiated her artistry, and it seemed to get increasingly out of tune as the concert progressed. But even under less-than-ideal circumstances, this was a very gratifying and memorable recital, for the energy she brought and her decision to play the entire recital without a break. Ho’s style is unique, her fingers stay close to the keys, they seem almost glued to the instrument, giving the illusion of sculpting the notes in a tactile manner like a potter forming clay. She uses a lot of wrist, sometimes slipping below the keyboard like Glen Gould, other times she held wrist held high, vertically striking the keys with thumb or pinky. We felt a heartwarming openness and vulnerability from her.
For those living under illusions of the glamorous lives of concert pianists, here is a reality check: besides the matter of tuning, before the recital the Steinway was parked on the left side of the church. The diminutive pianist and her organizer had to jointly push the behemoth to the center of the hall….and it was on the floor rather than on a platform. Thus the artist could be seen only from the front row or the balcony.
Taking two quick bows, Ho’s encored with a subdued and rather straightforward rendition of the Brahms iconic Intermezzo, Opus 118 No. 2. A long line wished to talk to her and to get photographs with the artist.