A review of the concert on January 20, 2002 by Dr. Thomas Wendel.
John Ferguson is a young multi-faceted musician. His activities range from composition to teaching to performance on piano, violin, or guitar. Typifying the younger generation of musicians, Ferguson’s interests, reflected in his performance as well as in his compositions, cover world and experimental music, multimedia, jazz, and the unusual and/or forgotten works from the classical repertoire reaching back at least to the Baroque. Ferguson, who is based in Boston but who has appeared as a performer in various venues throughout the nation, is the recipient of many awards both for performance and for composition.
Ferguson’s Sunday evening appearance at Petit Trianon typified his Innovative approach to programming. Who other than this young man is performing sonatas of George Antheil? And few pianists tackle Elliott Carter, let alone one of his works so new as hardly to have the ink dry on the page. And then there was Chopin and Beethoven, but it was the Chopin of the not-so-frequently performed Barcarolle — Chopin’s single work of this title — and Beethoven’s stupendous Hammerklavier Sonata, a work generally not tackled until the performer has reached say, the age of Methusla, before attempting to plumb its philosophical depths.
The recital began with the Chopin. Although all the notes were there, the performance seemed not to capture the romance of this work. Though particularly in the lyrical sections of the piece Ferguson produced a gorgeous tone, overall the effect was rather wooden.
The next was the selection by Elliott Carter entitled “90+”. Carter, who today is 90+4, composed this short piano piece for a friend who in 1994 reached the age of 90. According to Ferguson’s excellent program notes, the work is “built around ninety short, accented notes played in a slow, regular beat.” I am afraid that on first hearing it is very difficult to hear much of anything “regular” in Carter, let alone “regular beats.” The piece, however, is a breath of fresh air, not too serious, atonal yes, but withal quite listenable, particularly when given what seemed to me to be an obviously involved and understanding performance. The piece ends in a delightfully wispy flourish, and I swear I heard someplace “Happy Birthday To You,” but I must have been hallucinating; Ferguson told me later that he was unaware of such a musical allusion in the work (though he admitted it was possible).
Next came the spectacular Jazz Sonata, Sonata No. 4 of the excellent And underrated composer George Antheil. Antheil was an accomplished concert pianist, and it was as a pianist both in this country and in Europe that early in his career, during the 1920’s, he was best known. Ferguson’s notes avoid the appellation “Jazz Sonata,” but particularly the first movement explains why the work has gained this title. It is, yes, jazzy, but somehow the jazz elements are wonderfully integrated into the musical texture. The rising main theme has something in common with the great theme of Liszt’s B-minor Piano Sonata. The slow movement consists of a beautifully lyrical opening rising theme that reappears to close this three-part movement. The final movement, a toccata, is a sort of knuckle breaking pertuum mobile, though there is a quieter middle section. From the point of view of performance values, Ferguson’s reading of this finely wrought sonata was the high point of the evening.
Chopin, Elliott, and Antheil made up the interesting first half of the concert. The second half was entirely taken up with one of the mountain peaks of the classical repertoire, Beethoven’s Sonata in B Flat, Op. 106, the Hammerklavier. If it is to say that Ferguson did not quite rise to the occasion, it is also to admire his courage in undertaking this journey. We should be satisfied to have the opportunity to hear a live performance of this work, even though the performance may not communicate its full power. The very opening statement was a forecast of what was to come: a lack of brilliance, of fire, of, well, power. And the fermata following this opening passage was, I believe, held far too long; momentum was lost. The great fugue that is the development section of the first movement was carried off with reasonable aplomb, but the return to the recapitulation was less successful. I should add my gratitude that Ferguson repeated the first movement exposition as is indicated, though rarely followed.
The second movement scherzo lacked passion; the trio which ought to possessa wide dynamic, seemed relatively tame. My notes read “no roar,” a remarkperhaps better left unadmitted. Ferguson’s reading of the huge adagio was deeply felt and sounded a truly poetic vision. Ferguson seems to me to be fundamentally a lyricist at the keyboard and in the long drawn-out lyrical periods of this music he seemed most in his element. It was a beautiful reading. And the magical transition to the finale was excellently limned. With the impossibly complex fugue that closes this great work we are back in the realm of Elliott Carter; what is going on? Ferguson is not one of those-steel fingered Russians who can with this music bring an audience to its feet. But it was feat enough for the pianist to get through this incredible density with honor intact. We remain in his debt.
