A super-sized sundae of sound

Wouldn’t it be deliciously entertaining if we could visually portray creative energy as scoops of ice-cream? Doing a stick-figure doodle equals one scoop plain vanilla. Writing a rhyming quatrain gets you a double scoop with sprinkles. Singing your own song with piano accompaniment … that’s a mint chocolate chip in a waffle cone, thank you very much.

Now imagine the super-sized sundae of innovation and ingenuity that gets served at each PPI recital. Not only do we present on stage the best pianists in the world (each one of them the equivalent of a prize-winning Salt and Straw flavor, for the sake of the ice-cream argument), but they also bring with them the incomparable music from myriad great creative minds that add sweetness, depth, crunch, zing and surprise to every recital.

And although National Ice-Cream day is in July, in honor of our ice-cream-loving artist, Evren Ozel, here is my take on his upcoming program … (Disclaimer: This content is not sponsored, and no Portland ice-cream vendors were consulted or visited in the writing of this newsletter.)

Three Scarlatti Sonatas – a fabulous bowl of Tillamook Neapolitan. Old-fashioned, yet fun, playful but not silly, a hint of the exotic and the daring, without veering off into the complete unknown. The description of the Tillamook-brand’s texture applies just as easily to Scarlatti’s music: “smooth, rich, and extra creamy, with more cream and less air than other brands.”

Beethoven Sonata No. 30, op. 109 – a Ruby Jewel mint chocolate sandwich, where three basic elements (dark chocolate cookie, chocolate chips, mint ice-cream) pair to perfection in the same three-layered way this sonata unfolds (cookie / ice cream / cookie, or first / second / third movement). The dense, sophisticated flavors stay balanced and contained (the sonata, like the ice cream sandwich, is large, but still considered compact) and a sense of fresh boldness is met with equal parts reverence for tradition and innovative improvement (Ruby Jewel’s mint ice-cream isn’t green, Beethoven’s third movement carries the weight of the sonata). Despite its nostalgic, lingering aftertaste, the overpowering sentiment one is left with is that of satiated wonder.

Bartók’s “Out of Doors” Suite doesn’t lend itself to an easy ice-cream analogy. Although presented as a unit, the five pieces are quite varied in sound and mood, although they all contain elements of the same basic idiom and approach. The sound is percussive, almost abrasive in some parts; eerie and almost melancholic in others. As a dessert, this would probably be a five-scoop tasting menu of Jeni’s Ice Creams, with small portions of each flavor, meticulously presented in clear glass cups: Darkest Chocolate (for the earthy groundedness of With Drums and Pipes), Brambleberry Crisp (for the slightly off-kilter tartness of the Barcarolle), Snow Cone Sorbet (a far-out clash of purple, red and orange for the bagpipe-meets-piano quality of Musettes), Opaque (to represent the eerie blackness of The Night’s Music) and finally some Pineapple Upside Down Cake for The Chase (a slightly acidic, yet thrilling ride that turns all expectations of piano music being relaxing upside down!)

Fauré’s Nocturne No. 4 in E-flat Major, Op. 36 resets the palate to a sense of calm equilibrium – and lands on our ears like a childhood classic with a twist. It’s not a bowl of vanilla ice cream with fresh berries, it’s a Beauxberry New-Zealand-style soft-serve: not too sweet, not too tart, perfectly smooth, wonderfully rich.

Which brings us to Schumann’s Carnaval … a burlesque and playful kaleidoscope of characters and sounds. There is yearning and reverence, but also an abundance of wit, charm, goofiness and cheer. Given Schumann’s tragic life story, it would be easy to pic Rocky Road as his signature flavor, but for this particular piece, let’s stick to the more light-hearted inventiveness of the music and the subject matter (it’s Mardi Gras, after all!) and call it Evren’s favorite (according to his Instagram page): a “big fat brownie ice-cream sundae with the works (hot fudge, whipped cream, toasted nuts, etc.)” The musical equivalent of something like this:

Well, what are you waiting for? Ice cream melts, and we’re not serving soup! Get yourself a ticket to Evren’s deliciously decadent September 7th performance. (You can even go for ice cream before, or after!)