Tuesday October 19th, 2021 – One of my favorite musicians, Zlatomir Fung, made his Carnegie debut this evening at Weill Hall, a red-letter event for me. Zlatomir, whose unique name derives from his Bulgarian and Chinese-American parentage, was the first American in four decades – and the youngest cellist ever – to win first prize at the International Tchaikovsky Competition in 2019.
I first heard Mr. Fung in a Young Concert Artists recital at Merkin Hall in February 2019, and was captivated by his remarkable talent. Read about the evening here.
Joined at Weill Hall this evening by pianist Mishka Rushdie Momen (above), the cellist gave us a marvelous program of classics from the Romantic period. The concert was sold out, and the audience’s rapt attention was a tribute both to the music and to the musicians.
Robert Schumann’s Adagio and Allegro, Op. 70, was composed in 1849. The pensive adagio, heart-tugging in its emotional expressiveness, gives way to the lively and passionate allegro, a deft flow of music that sometimes looks back to the opening movement. From note one, I was transfixed by Mr. Fung’s achingly beautiful playing, which drew me – and my fellow audience members – immediately in to the music.
Franz Schubert’s Sonata in A-Minor, D. 821, “Arpeggione“, was written in 1824, soon after the beloved song cycle Die Schöne Müllerin and shortly before the C-major symphony.
The sonata’s opening movement is a songful allegro moderato, tinged with a feel of nostalgia. A dance springs up, with a folkish flavor, and a passage of staccati from the cello aligns with sparkling notes from the piano. The movement continues, shifting between sadness and joy…a sort of reflection on the times in which we are living.
From its poignant opening, the sonata’s central adagio found Mr. Fung at his most persuasively eloquent as the music carried him across a wide dynamic range, leaving the listener in awe of his sustained, finely nuanced phrasing. Ms. Momen was a ideal companion. This was music-making of the highest calibre.
The concluding allegretto is energetic, at times having with a somewhat jaunty feel; both players displayed great nimbleness, dancing us along to a surprisingly subdued finish.
Antonín Dvořák’s “Silent Woods“, Op. 68, No. 5, was – to me – the heart of the evening; subtle dynamic shadings from both players constantly allured the ear, and the astonishing resonance in Mr. Fung’s playing reached the depths of my soul. A dance-like passage gives way to a wave of passion; this subsides only to sweep over us again moments later. Mr. Fung’s glorious descending phrase at the end was thrilling.
The musicians took only the briefest of breaks between works, but they seemed wonderfully fresh as they returned to the Weill Hall stage for the program’s concluding work: César Franck’s epic and very demanding Sonata in A-major. The cellist Jules Delsart was so moved when he first heard this sonata in its original violin setting that he obtained the composer’s permission to arrange the work for his own instrument. This arrangement was published in 1887.
The sonata’s opening Allegretto ben moderato joins two themes: one for the cello and one for piano. These themes, especially the cello’s, will return in the following movements. The players seemed to gently bend the melodies, putting a personal stamp on this familiar music.
Turbulence rises for the second movement, a dramatic scherzo, in which the restless piano is over-lain with a vivid, dramatic passage for the violin. Lyrical moments, featuring this sonata’s second well-loved theme, come and go. From a veritable feast of notes, passion rises with the great melody sounding forth. Becalmed, deep resonance from the cello lingers briefly, then another rise to a triumphant finish.
The Recitativo-Fantasia brings back sonic images from the previous movements. There is a feeling of improvisation here which leads in a slow buildup to another haunting melody for the cello. Then the final Allegretto con moto commences with the piano and cello seemingly exchanging thematic thoughts. Things grow turbulent again, and earlier themes resurface, all leading to a vibrant, joyous ending.
Enthusiastic applause, the audience standing, brought Mr. Fung and Ms. Momen back for an encore: a Nocturne by Alexander Borodin which was unfamiliar to me. This was elegantly played, with appealing dynamic shifts and a spine-tingling tremelo passage from the cellist. As throughout the evening, I loved watching Mr. Fung’s expressive face as he played; he seemed to be communing with Saint Cecilia, all to the greater glory of the music.
~ Oberon
Oberon's Glade 