Standing ovation for Van den Hoek

Standing ovation for Van den Hoek

By Gus Kairupan

JAKARTA (JP): "Pleasure," said Martijn van den Hoek, "is where
you're not." He then sat down facing the 88 white and black keys
and did everything to prove himself wrong. I should really say
that "they" then sat down, because the event was an evening of
music from a piano duet -- four hands at one piano, not to be
confused with a piano duo which means four hands at two pianos.
The other two hands that evening belonged to Mieke van den Hoek
who happens to be his wife.

But what did that spiel about "pleasure being somewhere where
you're not" have to do with concerts? It came up in Martijn's
explanations about the pieces to be performed. Now there, I must
say, you have an admirable practice -- a musician talking about
the music and what to listen for, what certain quirks in the
phrases and harmonic structure mean, and more of the things that
make the music understandable. It's especially important when
you're listening to program music, which was the type of music
the Van den Hoeks performed that evening. Anyway, what Martijn
meant was, to put it roughly, that your fun is never as much fun
as other people's fun.

Now to the music. The two were to play Brahms' fourth symphony
(arranged for a piano duet) but that was scuttled and replacing
it were works by Gabriel Faure and Sergei Rachmaninov. I must say
that I wasn't sorry for the change in the program because I'm not
quite sure whether the arrangement for piano would have worked
satisfactorily, especially that gorgeous melody for cellos in the
slow movement. Besides, the works that replaced the symphony were
more in line with the theme of "there where you're not." You're
not where Schubert's wanderer is (Wanderer Fantasie); you have no
idea about the little girl named Dolly who enchanted Faure, and
who was the daughter of a friend of his; you're not among a lot
of puppets, one of which is called Petrouchka (Rachmaninov). In
short, you're on your little patch where the grass is less green,
or so you think.

But then Martijn and Mieke appeared, took hold of the 350 or
so people in the audience and heaved them (me included) over the
fence onto greener pastures. The program started with Schubert's
Wanderer Fantasie (solo piano) which ranks right among the most
monumental compositions for piano ever written by an 18-year-old
youth. I must admit that at first I harbored some reservations
about the enormous sound Martijn produced since the sound of
pianos of around 1810 was considerably smaller, more intimate.
But then came the songs that you find in all of Schubert's
compositions, regardless of whether they're for voice or
instruments. Singing is the essence of Schubert's works,
and Martijn sang his heart out. The other solo composition,
also played by him, was the arrangement for piano of three
excerpts from Stravinsky's ballet suite Petrouchka, another one
of those finger smashing pieces but which Martijn played to
perfection. Definitely not easy to follow or to discern the line
of direction among the jumble of sounds, had it not been
for the crystal clarity Martijn brought out in his presentation.

The duets Martijn and Mieke played were by Faure (Dolly
Suite), Ravel (Mother Goose Suite) and Rachmaninov titled merely
Six Pieces Op. 11. Musically speaking, it is a well-nigh perfect
match, and they're the second husband and wife team I have ever
heard, the other being -- if memory serves me right -- Beatriz
and Walter Klien. Please correct me if I'm wrong. There are no
pianistic fireworks involved in these three suites. Music,
anyway, has very little to do with technical wizardry. It's been
quite some time since I last heard the Mother Goose Suite in
concert and I must say that Martijn and Mieke's interpretation
was the best so far: the exquisite lullaby in pavane for Sleeping
Beauty; you could hear the birds winging away after having
feasted on the bread crumbs Tom Thumb strewed along the path;
strains as fine and delicate as droplets of water suspended from
a spider's web in Laideronette, Empress of the Pagodas and even
the beast in Conversations Between Beauty and the Beast came
through as a creature more to be pitied than censured.

Music with a theme, a story and relating a story through the
use of words is far easier than doing it through tones. And if
the storyteller plays with his voice to make the tale
interesting, so must the musician use whatever means at his
disposal to get the message across, like tone coloring, varying
rhythmic patterns, volume levels, and so on. Martijn and Mieke
van den Hoek did so masterfully, and were given a standing
ovation for their efforts. As for "pleasure being where you're
not", well, that's where Mr. Van den Hoek went wrong. If only for
an hour or two, we were definitely where pleasure was.