Recently, NEIU’s Music Department proudly showed off their fine new acquisition. On Friday, March 13, pianist Ivana Bukvich joined faculty cellist Nazar Dzhuryn for a passionate evening of cello and piano masterworks in the Fine Arts Recital Hall. Dzhuryn came across as accomplished and confident to a very receptive audience that night, allaying any concerns that the university may have hired the wrong man.
It took a while for this feeling to sink in, however, as the first piece came across somewhat dry and uninviting. Giuseppe Valentini’s sonata seemed a weak choice, and there were problems with Bukvich’s playing. It was unclear whether she was properly warmed up or if there were structural issues since the music was originally just for piano. Perhaps it just wasn’t a very good piece.
After Valentini, the duo tackled Schubert’s “Sonata in A Minor, D. 821.” The first movement, a moderate allegro, brought out more energy in the performers. Then came the adagio, where we see Mr. Dzhuryn handling the movement’s emotional depth and complexity with consummate skill. Ms. Bukvich’s keyboard work finally begins to pay off near the end, where she finally seemed to find her voice.
In the third and final movement, the allegretto, Dzhuryn shared with the audience the somber melancholy and deep, wrenching passion of later Schubert. This allegretto moves so beautifully, and playing in close harmony they indeed showed the audience the way, walking us through Schubert’s melodic progressions with tight and well-rehearsed precision. Their own passion for the piece was also readily evident.
After the intermission, Bukvich retired from the stage so that Mr. Dzhuryn could tackle one of the most iconic cello pieces of the modern age. Hungarian composer Zoltán Kodály’s “Sonata for solo cello, op.8” is perhaps the epitomal solo cellist’s showpiece. It is a deep and somber work, so Slavic and serious. Its long, cruel notes blend together into a tonal landscape of sad beauty and deep contemplation. Dzhuryn demonstrated complete mastery of this work, adeptly conquering the tricky pizzicato work and deliriously sonorous melodies.
Kodály called his third movement an allegro molto vivace. It speaks to me of a secret, inner resonance, of the dark places within us all that never rest. Dzhuryn brought us to that place and only let us breathe again with the piece’s final notes. He moved us through the sonata as only one whose serious study and understanding of Kodály’s work could have accomplished.
Afterwards, Bukvich rejoined him for a series of short works by Manuel de Falla called “Suite Popular Española.” The piano playing was superb throughout, and for a moment each piece opened a window onto a particular emotion. Serious respect must be placed before Bukvich for her shining performance in the contemplative, slow serenade of the “Asturiana,” and in the serene and sad “Nana.” However, the pieces were too short to develop any serious structures within them, much less the simple harmonies of a song form. Altogether, de Falla merely teased his public with these fragments, so that they could hardly be called anything more than snippets.
Finally the ensemble arrived at Prokofiev. Sergei Prokofiev was a master of the delicate interplay found in the more accomplished examples of instrumentation. His chamber pieces are a case study in this crucial balance, a tonal bargain between the musicians. The renowned French composer Maurice Ravel was another master at this balancing act. The structure might wander, but never too far, and playing Prokofiev on the concert stage always requires a high level of skill and a whole lot of practice. Nor was the audience disappointed, as Dzhuryn and Bukvich’s working relationship paid off wonderfully.
One problem with this piece was that the acoustics in the recital hall couldn’t handle the full volume of a Steinway grand piano, so at times the cello was drowned by this booming assault. Ms. Bukvich also tended to slightly overplay the heavier parts, yet she more than made up for it in the lighter sections. Her sensitivity to the delicacy of emotions in this sonata reminded me of her renderings of the Schubert and de Falla, that careful perfection she used when communicating with her keyboard.
The third movement, an allegro ma non troppo, showed Dzhuryn’s playing falling a bit short. It seemed a bit sparse, somehow not evocative or emotive enough for the score. In his defense, this is at least partially due to Prokofiev’s score, in which he seemed to have stuffed a bit too much ornamentation into the conclusion. In orchestral music, this often tends to drain the theme of its emotional intensity.
Leaving the hall at the end of the recital, I could only come away with the sense that I was both entertained and fulfilled, and that I would be very excited if Mr. Dzhuryn performed at NEIU some time in the future. Having thoroughly enjoyed his near-flawless performance and the skillful and beautiful playing of his piano counterpart, I might be persuaded to skip a class just to see them again.