Class soprano, pianist suffuse love in the air

By Laksmi Pamuntjak-Djohan

JAKARTA (JP): Loh Siew Tuan stood on the formidable Erasmus stage, a splendid vision in turquoise and pink Thai Silk, looking every inch the diva we had come to expect. Ten seconds later, we saw Dr. Kuei Pin Yeo slip close by the piano, quenching a smile, ever her beguilingly modest self.

Then the most important part of the impassioned opening speech of David Korthals-Altes, First Secretary (Press and Cultural Affairs) of the Netherlands Embassy, hit us right in the face: "If Miss Loh isn't world class, Dr. Kuei Pin Yeo wouldn't have agreed to accompany her."

Exactly the thought that had been percolating in my mind. We did not know Miss Loh until that Thursday night -- a night that proved itself incandescent in its simplicity -- but Dr. Yeo is certainly no stranger to our scene. She possesses the kind of credibility that only fictional characters have: a distinguished performer, a competent administrator, a superb business woman, a dedicated educator and Indonesia's first Doctor of Music.

Yet I hardly ever saw her as an accompanist. And by the looks of it, neither did most of the extra-curious audience. "Does this soprano deserve her?" I overheard a fresh-faced youth whisper to her companion, with the kind of deference usually accorded an icon, the kind that refuses to take biographies at face value and only relies on the profound power of subjectivity.

Perish the thought. When Miss Loh's first few notes rang pure and true, she instantaneously became a salve to the spirit, a lulling reminder that art is alive and well in Indonesia, even if -- more often than not -- it is partially imported. Currently a visiting professor of the Royal Conservatory of Brussels, the Chinese-born, part Malaysian, part English-bred, Miss Loh has toured the world extensively as performer and teacher, and is in constant demand in North America and Europe.

That her widest critical acclaim has come from being a recitalist is no surprise. There was a lovely affability about her that endears her to a more intimate setting. And then there was that exquisite voice: melodious, dulcet, genial, warm, with remarkably clear intonation and wonderful phrasing. The Germanic repertoire seemed tailor-made for her as her expressively lyrical rendition of Schubert demonstrated. Sailing through each lied, traipsing effortlessly from sunny, wistful, hopeful, to affectionate, romantic, capricious, she was the consummate storyteller. Every moment was suffused with love and drama.

Not quite so, perhaps, for Dr. Yeo. While Miss Loh took us where she'd been, Dr. Yeo told us where she wanted to go. After a slightly-too-dominant start in Ganyamed, I sensed her trying to tone down, as though suddenly remembering her role as an accompanist. Yet the resulting delicate restraint -- particularly during the beautiful Schafers Klagelied -- did little to salvage what was lacking: harmony. You could sense that they were two distinct mechanisms at play, each telling a separate story.

I wondered, however, whether this disparity was more an issue of interpretation, not of technicality. Was there really an adhesive in Schubert's greater scheme of things, for his real contribution to the lied actually lay in making the piano an equal partner with the voice. So, was Dr. Yeo in fact doing the right thing?

Yes, most probably, if we take into account what Dr. Yeo stands for. Color and subtle nuances may not be among her gifts, but she is always controlled, balancing quiet detachment with absolute integrity about music itself. Whether of wistful love stories, pastoral scenes, or everyday life, her musical interpretation is always one of clinical precision. Her vision is not about grandstanding; the way she handles genres, scale and detail demonstrates that exactitude and faithful interpretation, rather than sentimentality or grandeur, are foremost on her mind.

Which came to life when they both unraveled the principled omniscience that make up Brahms' worldview. Dr. Yeo rendered the audience spellbound when she glided through the devilishly virtuosic introduction of Verzagen, proving that she had lost none of her articulate clarity of yesteryear. Miss Loh dazzled all the way, responding to the material with depth and breadth. Indeed, she is a soprano of admirable range. Their duet was as grave and polished as the mellow, meditative beauty of the music that inspired it.

Yet there was nothing that prepared me for the supreme beauty of Turina's Poema en forma de canciones -- a Scheherazade-like melancholic fairy tale of unrequited love that burns and blazes with poetic extremes. Miss Loh and Dr. Yeo were essentially mining a mother lode of passion here, but lacked the fire and grit central to the interpretation of Latin music. Miss Loh's legato, punctilious Germanic inflections, were not very well- suited to the crisp and slightly offbeat staccato of the Spanish language.

With Ginastera to follow, the genre just could not get any better. Each of the four cantatas bears the mark of the Argentine's genius -- namely maturity and finesse. Zamba has a beautiful impressionistic accompaniment, one which Dr. Yeo seized with diaphanous, water-like clarity.

After Dr. Yeo's electrifying Ginastera finale, I understood the need for Miss Loh to end on a virtuosic note. Yet ending with Britten's frothy British Isles folk songs felt more of an anticlimax than a worthy competition (or even cute multicultural whimsy).

After all, Miss Loh's voice inspired a concert that stood out for its embracing honesty -- resolutely unpretentious, heartfelt, and thoroughly edifying. It needed no reiteration, even of the most homespun kind.