Pianist Seong-Jin Cho’s Ravel Journey

Pianist Seong-Jin Cho (photograph by Harald Hoffmann, courtesy of the San Francisco Symphony)

Last night in Davies Symphony Hall the San Francisco Symphony (SFS) continued its Great Performers Series with a solo recital by Korean pianist Seong-Jin Cho. He made his SFS debut in January of last year, performing Ludwig van Beethoven’s Opus 37 (third) piano concerto in C minor under the baton of Dalia Stasevska. He had previously appeared in the Great Performers Series in November of 2016, when he performed Frédéric Chopin’s Opus 11 (first) piano concerto in E minor with the Warsaw Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Jacek Kaspszyk. (This was his first visit to Davies.) On a personal level, I have also encountered him twice in Herbst Theatre, first as a Chamber Music San Francisco recitalist in March of 2017, followed by his San Francisco Performances debut in October of 2018.

For his return to Davies, Cho prepared a program surveying the complete works for solo piano composed by Maurice Ravel. These were given a chronological account beginning with the 1893 (“on or about,” according to the program book) “Sérénade grotesque,” and concluding with the 1917 suite Le Tombeau de Couperin. This was a major undertaking of a generous number of physically demanding compositions, and it was no surprise that Cho took advantage of two intermissions for taking breaks. Those familiar with the Decca 14-CD Complete Edition of Ravel’s music may have noticed that Cho’s recital did not include “La Parade.” This was intended as a ballet score but never progressed beyond a piano sketch of two waltzes, two marches, and a mazurka; but it has been published as piano music by Ravel!

I tend to be skeptical of “anthology” performances, particular when the entire anthology is crammed into a single program! Nevertheless, I have had a long and enjoyable relationship with the Ravel canon, so it was hard for me to pass up on last night’s offering. Sadly, I came away disappointed that too many of the selections had suffered from a failure to capture the spirit of the music within the plethora of notes that Ravel had committed to his pages.

Indeed, during the performance of one of the most familiar selections, “Alborada del gracioso,” it seemed as if Cho had lost track of the relationship between themes and accompaniment. This is one of the movements from the Miroirs suite, which was subsequently orchestrated and usually better known in that version. That suite also includes “Une barque sur l’ocean,” whose orchestral version is a case study in instrumental sonorities. The piano version can only suggest those sonorities, but pianists better than Cho have shown how compelling the original version can be. (Could that be because those pianists that I have encountered are French?)

I sometimes worry that repertoire serves as a sort of “battle ground” for our abundance of soloists all clamoring for attention. Perhaps that clamoring interfered with Cho’s commitment to focus on the music, which I had appreciated in the past. Sadly, it is unlikely that the clamoring will abate among those determined to survive in the “business of music.”