Pianist Iswargia R. Sudarno pulls off all-Schubert recital

By Laksmi Pamuntjak-Djohan

JAKARTA (JP): It was both a bane and a blessing for Iswargia R. Sudarno, or Lendi as he is better known to his peers, that the Erasmus Huis was only but a quarter full the night of his solo recital. A bane because what he represented aside from obvious talent was courage, something that we rarely see in our classical musicians nowadays.

Without belittling the headway that has been made in Jakarta's chamber music scene, it takes courage to step onto the stage on one's own, let alone to perform a relatively underappreciated repertory.

And a blessing because the works of Romantic Austrian composer Franz Schubert (1797-1828) are simply not intended for big halls or big audiences.

Unlike the showy, explosive nature of Liszt's works, best projected in a large hall, Schubert's music tends to be more abstract and more personal.

Some of his later pieces reveal a depth of emotion that comes to life better in the intimate setting of a small hall.

But it's obvious that not many people like or understand Schubert, even if this year marks the second centenary of his birth. And this is not without reason.

In the past, he was either dismissed as a mere Romantic melodist for the Vienesse beau monde, or, worse, a lesser Beethoven.

Most pianists chose to steer clear of his works simply because most of his sonatas are too long.

It was only after World War II that pianists like Alfred Brendel began to follow in Artur Schnabel's footsteps and perceive the inordinate length as a necessary aspect in Schubert's self-expression.

That Lendi had chosen to perform an all-Schubert recital -- especially one which started with Moments Musiceaux, D. 780, a piece not given to strong displays of technique -- was another form of courage.

The poor turnout was clearly the answer to this brazen challenge.

Yet what Lendi made out of it was quite unexpected. The Moments Musiceaux could have turned into a disaster had he not understood Schubert the way he obviously did.

The first movement was murky and tentative as if he was still trying to grapple with its essence.

Similarly, his tone was hammer-like, a reflexive respite for the well-meaning but clueless interpreter.

Then again, Schubert's music never transmits much of a sense of direction to the listeners.

Unlike Beethoven, who is focused and precise to a fault, there is a roaming, self-questioning quality about Schubert's music that suggests that the composer himself was never sure what he was trying to say.

By the time Lendi reached the fourth movement, Moderato, his tone and shading had markedly improved.

There was a degree of unevenness, but technicalities were hardly relevant in a piece so unremarkably complex that it takes guts to play it at all.

The real issue is to sustain the tension in those long melodies, to lend credence to those sudden modulations, and to ultimately balance them.

And he did all that admirably.

The fifth movement, Allegro Vivace, even saw the "old" Lendi at play: foot-tapping, confident, passionate, a bit of the maverick.

Lendi's conviction was sustained throughout the three following pieces, and culminated in his rendition of the Sonata in A minor right after the intermission.

His architectural background, ironically, provides him a sturdy sense of structure and a sensitivity to contrasts that give the piece the cumulative effect it deserves.

Balance

I have known Lendi since he was doing his architecture degree in Bandung.

Even then, he was always at the piano, living and breathing it as one would a vocation, not a sideline activity. I had always sensed that there was a part of his personality that needed to give, and it was piano that brought it alive.

After he graduated, I asked him, "Will you enjoy being an architect as much as you enjoy being a pianist?"

He only smiled, his soulful eyes holding the answer. Yet I was too young to understand that he never intended to do anything else but play the piano.

Things started to happen to that effect. Lendi went to the United States, and then Canada, spending more time at the piano at the likes of the Manhattan School of Music and Johanessen School of the Arts.

When he returned to Indonesia, he wasted no time in getting into the swing of things.

The Chamber Music Society of the International Music Foundation, which he currently coordinates, is arguably the most prolific and progressive music group in Jakarta today.

What he presented to his audience that night was nothing particularly flashy or inspired.

But he got into the heart of Schubert, showing that it's not about grandstanding, but balance and integration.