#mustonen

Unseeded Henrik Mustonen takes the title ...

Unseeded Finn Muston claims the title ...

Thursday 11 April 2013 (Wigmore Hall)

Ludwig van Beethoven – Violin Sonata in A Op.30 No.1

Olli Mustonen – Sonata for violin and piano (world premiere)

Igor Stravinsky – Duo Concertant

Maurice Ravel – Violin Sonata in G

Pekka Kuusisto (violin), Olli Mustonen (piano)

  I don’t think I can remember a time when I was as angry as I was last night at the Wigmore Hall. The recital had so much promise. So much promise. When I booked the tickets for the concert, I was sure I was going to enjoy it. When I leafed through the programme, I was sure I was going to enjoy it. After all, I love Beethoven, I love Stravinsky, and I love Ravel. The only thing I was unsure about was the Mustonen sonata as I had never heard him play or heard a piece by him. It turns out that Mustonen was the only thing that stopped me from ripping my hair out.

  It’s true; I should have lowered my expectations when Kuusisto strode onto the stage, swinging his Guadagnini and dressed in a shirt-chinos-some-sort-of-drape combination. It’s true; I should have thought something was wrong when Kuusisto almost stood in a bent over position, waiting for the pianist to play the first note. It’s true; I should have thought of escape when the two began playing.

  But positives first. Mustonen was a delight. His playing isn’t to everyone’s tastes, but it was not offensive. Maybe it was because Kuusisto was SO UNBELIEVEABLY BAD, but Mustonen’s playing was beautiful. All his notes were crystal clear, ringing sharp but not shrill. He has a tendency to be flamboyant, sometimes flinging his right hand high up in the air in a manner one would expect Prince Charles to do the ‘gangsta flick’ (or whatever you call it). But he is undoubtedly a better composer – perhaps even a great composer.

  The Mustonen sonata for violin and piano is a success. It is a piece of contrasts. At times so simple, at others so complex; at times almost inaudible, at others deafening; at times obvious, at others subtle. Critically, it is well grounded in the stylistics of Shostakovich such as in the great harmonic tensions of the opening movement, Sibelius such as in the second movement, and Beethoven such as in the finale. Also to be admired is the constant use of the violin that in fact detracts attention away from it. The violin acts as a launchpad; it is almost a perpetuum carmen of simple violin patterns that are resonated and crashed through by the piano, which appears rarely in some stretches of the sonata. The contrast of the piano and violin is supported by the hollow sound of the violin against deep and blaring piano as well as the thin/harsh high notes against the deep and full low notes. Almost working against Prokoffiev’s favourite technique of introducing new themes and not exploring them, Mustonen painstakingly explores and makes variations on every theme. It is also to be admired that Mustonen doesn’t follow the modern like for exposition of the various sounds the violin can makes such as the award-winning Violin Concerto of Unsuk Chin (which is AMAZING) and yet makes such an interesting piece. Only one wonders if Mustonen is depressed – he shows such vibrancy and vivacity, especially his rhythms, some of which were so catchy that I heard several people humming sequences during the interval, but the non-stop violin playing the same sequence over and over again and the hollowness of the sound as well as the scarcity of the exciting rhythmical parts are the lasting impressions.

  I will only waste so many words on the rest. One of the reasons why I thought this concert had so much promise was because it had a nice contrast. I was very eager for the concert to start when I read the programme notes and realised that there were to be resonances of Beethoven and Stravinsky in the Mustonen. I thought it was very good programming – to bring out the new work as much as possible in a sensible contrastive/historic sequence. I still do think it was good programming. Indeed, the Ravel was a stroke of genius as it is a work, again, of contrasts, stemming from Ravel’s consideration that the violin and piano are incompatible with each other. From such great programming, I never expected to be so bored by the end of the concert. The reason was Kuusisto.

  Kuusisto is a world-renowed soloist and director. Or so they say. Let’s just say he’s well known in his field. Indeed, he’s so talented! He has a particular talent of playing every note perfectly in tune and entirely devoid of emotion. His left hand technique is remarkable – it’s very articulate; his right hand technique too is remarkable – for a very different reason. During the Beethoven, I was unsure whether he was afraid of applying pressure with his right hand, but seeing as he played the Mustonen so well, with appropriately lots of pressure in some heated passages and certainly sometimes excessively so in the Ravel, that is clearly not the case. Does he think that making hollow – yes, hollow – sounds is appropriate for a Romantic piece, a late Beethoven sonata? The programme notes that he is ‘working on new interpretations of existing repertoire’. If this concert is an example of his new interpretations, I rather think I don’t want them. As someone who rather likes Baroque music played in more modern styles as well as period styles, I consider myself quite open to new interpretations. But, when one plays Beethoven exactly as one plays Stravinsky or Ravel, something is very wrong. Kuusisto plays everything hollow, exasperating the audience, and denying it the satisfaction that these pieces ought to grant. In Kuusisto’s ‘interpretations’, I heard nothing but himself. He suffers from the classic modern-day violinists’ problem – style-over-substance syndrome. And who can concentrate on the beauty of Mustonen’s playing when Kuusisto is sandpapering away?