Addressing the audience in the Allen Room, Corea introduced two seventeen year-old pianists who caught his ear: Israeli Gadi Lehavi and Georgian Beka Gochiashvili. The seasoned saxophonist Ravi Coltrane, trumpeter Wallace Roney, bassist John Patitucci and drummer Marcus Gilmore supported these young bucks in a program dedicated to works by Corea.

Stylistically different, both pianists betrayed classical roots in their technique and hand position on the keys. More introspective and shy, Gadi floated lightly over Corea’s compositions, absorbing encouragement from Patittucci’s bass. As the evening progressed, Gadi’s personality ballooned, particularly when Coltrane’s spare, kilowatt notes picked off Corea’s complex rhythms drawing Lehavi out of his solitude.

When Gochiashvili strode on stage, he exuded the swagger of a boxer compared to Lehavi’s gymnast (both are slim young men). Outgoing and muscular, Gochiashvili attacked the piano with confidence building off of Coltrane’s pungent riffs. Born of the school of Jerry Lee Lewis, Gochiashvili pushed away from the piano bench, bopping and weaving, unable to execute the music without giving it a physical existence.

Compared to Lehavi’s streamlined, gymnast countenance, Gochiashvili strode on stage with the swagger of a boxer (both are slim young men). Outgoing and muscular, Gochiashvili attacked the piano confidently building off of Coltrane’s pungent riffs. Granted, there were moments when the combo nearly took off pulling the pianists in their sizable wake, but mostly, they were generous and favorably framed the young men’s ideas.

In the end, the two young jazz artists came on stage and played together. By this point, Lehvai was primed and rippled his arpeggios through Gochiasvilli’s piano marathon.

Set in relief against the ceiling to wall, slanted windows facing a breathtaking view of Columbus Circle and spring’s sunset, both pianists demonstrated their native talents and Corea’s remarkable versatitlity.
EYE ON THE ARTS, NY -- Celia Ipiotis

But when Herbie Hancock strode on stage, the evening’s energetic conductor Long Yu appeared as thrilled to see him as the adoring audience. Jazz pianist and composer, Hancock’s mastery is immediately evident. The score for Chen Quigang’s “Er Huang for Piano and Orchestra” was propped in front of Hancock. Despite the written notation, Hancock invested the piece with a muscular performance, and undeniably personal interpretation. Deep breaths separated chord progressions that ultimately fanned up and down the piano keys. Near the end, Hancock broke into an improvised passage that drew on his classical and jazz roots, dancing vibrantly to the atonal melodies that rose and fell into a dizzy spinning jazz flower.

In another star turn, Ye Zou demonstrated remarkable body and facial control and expressivity in her role as the Concubine in Selections from the Beijing opera’s “The Drunken Concubine.” A tip of the head or snap of the wrist exploded in expressions of sadness or happiness, disappointment or drunkenness. I’ve never seen a person imitate a drunken person with so few moves that were so vibrantly real.
EYE ON THE ARTS, NY -- Celia Ipiotis