Concert Review: Chi-en Wong DMA Recital

How are we defined and shaped by the world around us? What converging influences engage with us in our life and work? Are we ever truly one thing – musician, daughter, sister, friend – at a time? These were the questions asked by percussionist Chi-En Wong’s dazzling solo recital held on the evening of February 14th at the University of Toronto.

In attending Wong’s recital, I was immediately struck by the stage setup: vibraphone, multipercussion, and marimba each had their own distinct domain on stage, with coloured spotlights illuminating whichever station Wong occupied during a given piece. Behind this lay a projector highlighting a metal tree on which the performer periodically hung one of three objects – I confess my eyesight was insufficient to perfectly make out the details of what these objects were, but I am led to believe that each represented one of the “hats” – music student, friend, and family – described in Wong’s recorded Cantonese narration which played between pieces. The recital had no intermission and there was no applause between pieces, meaning that the performance flowed uninterrupted and the narrative arc of both music and words was given expressive space. This wasn’t simply a recital, but a curated concert experience drawing from Wong’s personal memories as well as her extensive and varied repertoire. Indeed, the performer demonstrated vast technical and emotional range through her selections for this concert: four contemporary works by (mostly) living composers were separated by three of Bach’s violin works adapted for marimba, creating an arch form with the somber chaconne of Bach’s second violin partita at its center. This work anchored its surrounding cousins not only due to its centrality, but also to its length and emotional weight. It was a perfect blend of musical and technical showcases, and it allowed various aspects of Wong’s prowess to shine through.

I’d like to further discuss the inclusion of those three Bach works into the program. The process of adapting solo violin music for marimba transfigured these pieces into something gentle and relaxed: the peculiarities of the marimba benefit greatly from Bach’s multilayered writing, rendering what are straining double stops on the violin into gentle puffs of sound. All of this is to say that the overall character of these works was significantly dimmer and more thoughtful than when performed on the violin, and Wong took to this interpretational challenge like a fish to proverbial water. Her playing of these lyrical works reached heights of emotional intensity yet never felt saccharine or overdrawn; individual phrases ebbed and waned beneath the larger arc of each piece; and minute adjustments in tempo and dynamic were employed judiciously by Wong, allowing for an effervescent, ever-evolving emotional texture.

Allow me to make one thing perfectly clear: Laywoman as I am in these matters, I could not identify a single technical error in Wong’s performance. Each movement appeared precise and fluid; each stroke of a drum or marimba bar drew out the instrument’s tone in a way evocative of and appropriate for the musical moment at hand. Particular highlights for me were the aforementioned chaconne and Xenakis’ “Psappha,” a certified banger through which Wong finished the recital with stunning force. It was magical how Wong seemingly kept the audience enthralled through every movement, every minute twist of her arm or flick of her wrist. The multipercussion works in particular were not simply performed, but choreographed: not only aurally but visually flawless. My mental image of the performer dramatically lifting her arm before a bass drum strike has stuck with me a week after seeing it.

This all leads me back to considering Wong’s evident deep consideration of visuals in her performance practice: the concert was simply pleasing to look at. Carefully-considered visual elements drew my eye to the performer, her motions, and the overall thematic significance of each moment of each piece within this concert. I confess that my Internet-addled mind often wanders  during concerts, especially during stretches of longer than an hour without a break; I am routinely jealous of my peers who are able to maintain concentration on a piece of music without tuning out. Nevertheless, this recital kept my attention on a short leash, and I was pleasantly surprised to find myself raptly listening to more than one piece the whole way through.

The irony of this concert taking place on St. Valentine’s Day isn’t lost on me. It was truly an evening about exploring connections: to one’s friends, family, one’s life’s work, one’s passion, one’s dreams, and those parts of us which we keep hidden even from ourselves. Chi-En Wong encouraged all who entered with burdened souls to share in her self-discovery, to reflect on the dual nature of our relationships with others, the world, and ourselves. She brought the audience into her safe frame of mind, then displayed enormous vulnerability and courage in illuminating universally-felt emotions through her own self-discovered pathways. This is the type of concert that leaves a distinct impression on the listener.