As I reflect upon the creation of my latest album, “Vida breve,” featuring my own Sonata No. 4, I find it necessary to dispel any daring speculation about the title’s connection to the famous Hypocrites quote, “Ars longa, vita brevis.” While the title is indeed in Spanish, it does not draw inspiration from Manuel de Falla’s opera, “La vida breve,” as one might assume. The decision to title my piano sonatas in various languages, such as Broken Branches in English, Notturno luminoso in Italian, and Trinitas in Latin, stems from my appreciation for language and words. Naming these compositions offers a glimpse into the mood of each piece, providing listeners with a unique entry point into the musical experience.
In Broken Branches, my first sonata, the title echoes Janáček’s imagery of an overgrown path, depicting a journey where everything falls apart. Notturno luminoso, my second sonata, delves into the vibrant yet lonely atmosphere of nightclubs, a reflection of the intense emotions experienced during the nocturnal hours. Trinitas, the third sonata, draws inspiration from the controversial doctrine of the Holy Trinity and the divisive nature of the twelve-note system in music, questioning strict atonality.
And then there is Vida breve, a poignant exploration of the concept of a brief life. Life’s brevity is a universal experience that binds us all, and this ten-minute sonata captures the melancholy feeling of hastiness and the inevitability of life’s end. Contrary to speculation, the title bears no connection to Falla but resonates with the profound mystery of human existence, inviting contemplation on the unknown aspects of life and death.
The color palette of Vida breve, if one were to seek it, would find inspiration in Paris. I incorporated a hidden theme from Charles Trenet’s song “En avril à Paris,” infusing the sonata with a touch of the Parisian spirit. This nod to the French melody adds a unique layer to the composition, intertwining my personal experiences and connections within the music.
The album’s program extends beyond my original compositions, encompassing pieces with thematic connections to death. The Bach-Busoni Chaconne, a notable inclusion, represents a unique approach to interpreting music. Bach’s work provides a canvas for creative reinterpretation, and Busoni’s transcription showcases the monumental scale of the original, emphasizing Bach’s prowess as an organist.
In the case of the Carmen Fantasy, Busoni takes a different route, moving beyond virtuosic display. The Sonatina Number Six explores the psychology of Bizet’s opera Carmen, offering a condensed yet comprehensive glimpse into the opera’s characters and narrative. Busoni’s courage to end softly, with an hallucination of death, reflects a departure from traditional showmanship, creating a thought-provoking and emotionally rich experience for the audience.
Liszt’s Funérailles introduces ambiguity, inviting speculation about its purpose. Whether inspired by the 1848 Hungarian Revolution, Chopin’s death, or both, the composition captures the turbulence of a transformative period in European history. The piece’s Chopinesque elements, reminiscent of the A-flat Nocturne and Polonaise héroïque, add layers of complexity and depth, showcasing Liszt’s ability to intertwine personal and historical narratives.
Despite my extensive repertoire, it may seem that I have been somewhat reluctant to record Chopin. The reality is rooted in the early days of my recording career when Hyperion Records focused on less mainstream repertoire. As the label evolved, so did the opportunities to explore and record Chopin’s works. Recently, I found immense satisfaction in recording Chopin’s complete nocturnes, a project made possible during the pandemic-induced lockdown.
Choosing the right piano is crucial when recording Chopin, as the delicacy, transparency, and finesse of his music require a special instrument. The selection of a beautiful Yamaha from Southbank for the Nocturnes project allowed me to achieve the desired tonal qualities, preserving the essence of Chopin’s compositions.
The album concludes with two enchanting encore pieces, my own arrangements of the traditional Korean song Arirang and the Bach/Gounod Ave Maria. These selections serve as a soothing conclusion, offering a moment of repose and eternal rest. Arirang, a beloved Korean tune, transcends national boundaries, while Ave Maria, a fusion of Bach and Gounod, adds a touch of sentimentality to the album’s conclusion.
Conclusion
In conclusion, “Vida breve” encapsulates a musical odyssey, exploring diverse themes and emotions through four sonatas and selected compositions. Each piece contributes to a rich tapestry of experiences, inviting listeners to contemplate the brevity of life, the complexities of human emotion, and the transformative power of music. As a pianist and composer, my intention is to offer a profound and thought-provoking journey through sound, transcending linguistic barriers to evoke a shared, universal experience.
