CD Review - ResMusica.com

Bion Tsang, An American in Clamart

By Jean-Christophe le Toquin 08/09/2005

The Sonata for Violoncello Solo (1915) by Kodály is a gem with multiple facets, at the same time dense like Bach and mysterious like Transylvania, always fascinating. At first one is skeptical, because after all, the Hungarian Zoltan Kodály has only a little reputation in France among the amateurs of music (and Hary Janos given in Montpellier in 2002 and again at the Chatelet in 2004 with Gerard Depardieu has not helped), but when you have heard this recording once, you'll want to listen to it again and again. For the American cellist Bion Tsang, who recorded in Clamart, it is like making it up the Everest; for the listener, it is a pure moment.

The program on the CD, combining the Cello Sonata and the Duo for Violin and Violoncello (1914) makes sense, but is not, in itself, original. The most beautiful recordings, whether old (Janos Starker, Delos International) or more modern (Michal Kanka, Praga Digitals) actually pair the same pieces. Compared to these famous predecessors, Bion Tsang manages, though in a style somewhat remote from the tradition of central Europe, to captivate us by the clearness of his vision. "Something happens." The Duo for Violin and Violoncello that starts the recording is not (written) at the same level of the Sonata, and if the expertise of the composer is nevertheless solid, one does not find in it the obvious and constant inspiration of the Sonata. The violin is, in it, rather talkative (on the CD jacket, Baudime Jam prefers, with a lot of tact, to talk about "excitement" and "fluency") and both instruments play side by side, their voices existing together without being a real dialogue, or even less a confrontation. The result gives an impression of coldness that the honest, and a hint distant, violin of Alexander Brussilovsky does not try to compensate for. A duet, without duettists. After the concentration of the Sonata, the Capriccio (1915) offers a light and brilliant conclusion, quite refreshing.

Another interesting fact about this CD is that each one of the soloists proposes in his own way a current answer to the eternal giant spread the artist is faced with, as he is supposed to know the masterpiece and know how to make it known, and to enjoy it and make it enjoyable (even when it is all serious like in the Sonata) It is a difficult exercise that seems to be rendered even more difficult with the internet and the huge explosion of the CD market—the latest not being necessarily the reason for the first. Alexander Brussilovsky has chosen the CD. In the manner of the London Symphony Orchestra or the Concertgebouw of Amsterdam, he is the director of the Suoni e Colori recording, and makes recordings regularly. Some might say with some irony that one can never be better served that by oneself, but others will know to admire the performance of this "orchestra man" who knows as well to honor his peers such as the pianist Nicolas Economou (who disappeared in 1993 at the age of 40) and whose whole publication of all of his recordings has been noticed by the media.

Now, the cellist does respect the CD, but his idea of communication through internet is more aggressive. On Bion Tsang's site (www.biontsang.com), written only in English, one can find the usual biography, but much more rare, on the link "recordings", one can listen to different whole movements of the pieces he has previously recorded on CD (Schubert, Schumann, Strauss, Kodaly of course) and his "library" page proposes some entire concert pieces, such as nothing less than the Six Suites for Violoncello Solo by Bach and some pieces by Shostakovitch, Stravinsky, and the concerti of Dvorak or Schumann. To be able to listen totally legally and freely to a young artist on his own web site, and then, convinced by his talent, to decide to go out buy his CDs because one likes his work very much, almost sounds like Utopia!

And maybe it is. Bion Tsang and Alexander Brussilovsky might lose their bet about their still stammering union between music on line and the CD, but they are risking and daring. If it is their fate, and they are totally right to dare it, they can be proud.

Read the original French review...

CD Review - Strings Magazine

ON RECORD: The Royal Cello

"Bion Tsang plays simply and dreamily."

By Edith Eisler April 1999

Cellists often complain that their instrument, despite its infinitely bigger range, has a much smaller literature than the violin. Indeed, the cello, originally used mostly as a bass, only gradually found recognition as a solo instrument, and although it has finally come into its own as both the most versatile and the most powerful member of the string family, cellists still have to fall back on transcriptions; some add to the repertoire by making their own.

One of the most famous and beloved transcriptions is Schubert's "Arpeggione" Sonata, originally written for the arpeggione, a fretted six-string instrument tuned like a guitar but played with a bow. Now extinct, it would probably have been forgotten if Schubert had not composed this lovely piece for it. (A specimen can be seen, though not heard, in New York in the Metropolitan Museum's instrument collection.) The sonata has been transcribed for many instruments, but only the cello can reproduce its entire range.

Bion Tsang, an impressive young cellist who made his debut with the New York Philharmonic at the age of eleven and has won numerous prizes and awards, including awards, including an Avery Fisher Career Grant and a Bronze Medal in the International Tchaikovsky Competition, gives it a dreamy, wistful performance, warmly expressive yet simple. The Finale is best: lively, flowing, whimsical, brilliant, imaginatively varying the theme's recurrent appearances. It is paired with three works by Schumann. Only one was originally written for cello: Fünf Stucke im Volkston (Five Pieces in Folk Style), Op. 102. Despite the title, these are sophisticated character-pieces: flanking a tender lullaby and a couple of warm, rhetorical ballads, the first is humorously robust, the last assertively defiant. The Adagio and Allegro, Op. 70, is originally for horn, the Fantasiestücke, Op. 73, for clarinet; both have alternate cello parts and are well suited to the instrument. The playing captures character, mood, and expression from wistful, lyrical inwardness to impetuosity and passion; phrases are elegantly shaped, transitions are organic, and the sound is lovely. The excellent pianist is Richard Bishop.

Review - THE STRAD

CONCERTS: New York ReviewYouth making its mark

By Harris Goldsmith November 1996

Bion Tsang played at Bargemusic on 16 August, on board a gently rocking craft anchored to the port at the Fulton Street Ferry Landing. With the unresonant acoustics, one was somehow able to focus entirely on Tsang’s excellent musicianship (and that of his able pianist Judith Gordon) in every ingenious nuance of Beethoven’s delightful Variations in E flat major on a Theme from Mozart’s Magic Flute and Grieg’s substantial Sonata for Cello and Piano. In Kodály’s fiendishly virtuostic Sonata for Unaccompanied Cello, Tsang played with accuracy and beautiful colouristic variety; more lubricating echo would, doubtless, have solidified the faultless expertise of Tsang’s nevertheless commanding performance.

Also in this issue of The Strad magazine: Harris Goldsmith’s review of Mr. Tsang’s Schubert/Schumann compact disc.

CD Review - THE STRAD

Schubert: Arpeggione Sonata Schumann: Fünf Stucke im Volkston op.102; Adagio and Allegro op.70; Fantasiestücke op.73

Bion Tsang (cello)

Richard Bishop (piano)

By Harris Goldsmith November 1996

The young US cellist, Bion Tsang, already has many honours to his credit, among them an Avery Fisher Career Grant and a performance with the New York Philharmonic. His consummate playing here provides splendid justification for all that attention.

Tsang is a patrician of style: he produces a smooth, compact sound from his instrument and shows fine command of line and suppleness of bow control. His left-hand work (even in the potentially treacherous Schubert) is elegant and accurate and his emotional approach, while proportioned and disciplined rather that extravagant or heated, is nevertheless free and outgoing enough when necessary.

There is, moreover, a fine rapport between Tsang and his responsive partner, Richard Bishop. Their personalised readings of the Schumann Fünf Stucke im Volkston certainly make the most of the humour, tenderness and irascibility inherent in the quirky writing, and the Allegro from op.70, originally conceived for french horn, has a clarion assertiveness that strikingly resembles the original instrument. If I have any quibble, it would be in the second of the op.73 set, where the pianist, attentive to the fact that Schumann has oddly connected his duplet melodic notes to the first and third of the accompanimental triplets, consequently gives a lurching Irish jig quality to his phrases that contradicts Tsang's treatment of the identical material. This is surely a case of mistaken literalism.

Also in this issue of The Strad magazine: Harris Goldsmith’s review of Mr. Tsang’s August 1996 Bargemusic recital