An-Ting Chang in Chichester

An-Ting Chang, Chichester Cathedral, Feb 22 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Colour was available

but black and white 

can do what one piano can 

without the need of orchestras.

 

These lines from a work-in-very-slow-progress might never see print but are pertinent to piano versions of music that we might be more accustomed to in orchestral arrangements. They are likely to be jettisoned but can be made use of here. I first became aware of it when realizing that I preferred the piano-only side of my Pictures at an Exhibition cassette to Ravel's orchestration. For the most part, the same could be said of An-Ting Chang's performance of The Carnival of the Animals.

Some of the early pieces were almost Modernist in their fractured bursts of musical ideas. Music does character perhaps better than pictures and these pieces are antropomorphic, describing the species in relation to how humaity perceives them. The wild ass might not think itself as wild as the mazy run on the scales and neither do fish nnecessarily regard themselves as flickering in An-Ting's gorgeous account of Aquarium. Some elephants are presumably lighter on their feet than others but to us they all have the solid tread as seen by Saint-Saens.

We might miss the cello in the famous Swan, which lends itself so well to the glide but the piano's left hand draws more attention to the detail of the gentle wake it leaves behind. The busy Finale was trimuphantly delivered with great, almost acrobatic, verve.

More was ro come though in An-ting's own Music Diary during the Pandemic Time. That aberration produced poems from all quarters and musicians weren't to be left out. An-Ting is at least resilient and more like exuberant, though, and her pieces, while describing a difficult time, owe something to C19th Romanticism. 

London Night is the eerie stillness, building some tension before resolving it. Plague Time was gently jazzy and emotional,

Last June was a sadder song but Ping Pong Dance was jauntier and Hoxton Street was waltzy.

Past Tense, we were told, reflected back on a relationship break-up and did so with perhaps some debt to Rachmanninov. Purple Dream was a thoughtful rather than climactic ending, uncertain but still positive.

It was a deeply impressive set and done the right way round with her own music being the more memorable and what we were left thinking of. I've only ever seen Stephen Kovacevich given a standing ovation, by one or two, at Chichester before but some near me stood to applaud An-Ting and so I was glad of the excuse to do so too. I can only previously remember standing for the Hallelujah Chorus.

Completely great.