Conducting electricity

Friday, May 06, 2005

DAVID STABLER

When Mei-Ann Chen stands on the podium Saturday in the cavernous elegance of Schnitzer Hall, she will sport an even bigger smile than usual.

That's because the 31-year-old, Taiwan-born conductor of the Portland Youth Philharmonic just received a prestigious pat on the back. Last month, she won an international conducting competition in Copenhagen, Denmark.

Chen faced down 242 applicants from 42 nations to become the first woman to win the International Nicolai Malko Competition for Young Conductors. First prize brought her $17,300 and guest engagements with the Danish National Symphony Orchestra and three other Danish orchestras. More guest engagements throughout Europe will surely follow.

"It was a dream come true," said Chen, who has dreamed of being a conductor since she was 10. Twice before she failed even to qualify for the same competition.

But anyone who watches her crisp conducting style and hears the results knows she's got the goods. What impressed the judges, she said, was her ability to pull apart the music and put it back together with knowing efficiency.

Chen, who will lead the youth orchestra in an eclectic program Saturday, is modest in describing her victory, but it's a tale worth hearing.

Picture her on the night of the final round. She's come through three previous rounds, conducted Denmark's No. 1 orchestra in eight works, and is among the least experienced of the finalists: One contestant had already led London's Covent Garden Opera House and New York's Metropolitan Opera. TV cameras have been following her for days. Radio stations have interviewed her. Newspapers have been running daily stories.

Now, she faces a sold-out concert that includes the Prince of Denmark, European managers and an eager public. The judges include venerable German conductor Kurt Sanderling.

Chen's job is to conduct the first movement of Tchaikovsky's robust Fifth Symphony. It's a relentless march to battle that begins quietly, as if in the distance, then builds to a towering climax. The orchestra knows the music cold, as does the audience. Chen's challenge is to pull something special out of this war horse.

She walks out to enthusiastic applause and begins. The players bend to her will, the music rising in noble phrases. Chen doesn't remember a lot, she says, but afterward, she knows she and the orchestra made music.

"I went after the spirit," she says, and when she turned around to face the ovation, she saw a woman in the front row crying.

The jury deliberated 20 minutes, then came onstage with the prince and handed a sealed envelope to the announcer, who spoke in Danish. But Chen recognized the names, which were read in reverse order.

As in each previous round, she couldn't believe she was hearing her name. The audience launched into rhythmic applause, a sign of approval.

"I had tears," Chen says. "I wish my parents had been there. They tried to warn me against conducting. They didn't want my heart broken by all the rejection."

At a formal dinner party afterward, Chen asked Sanderling, one of the judges, how she could improve her conducting in the Tchaikovsky.

"You did all there is to do in it," he told her.

Back home in Portland, Chen, who, in addition to directing PYP, assists Carlos Kalmar at the Oregon Symphony, could afford to be more reflective about her victory. "I felt this was a journey," she says. "I have a good position here with this orchestra and with the Oregon Symphony. I'm making it in this town."

Entering the competition was a scary lesson for her and for the students in PYP, she says.

"I was being vulnerable. I might not even make it out of the first round, but artistically, I needed to push myself."

PYP musicians avidly followed Chen's progress through each round by way of the Internet. When she won, they flooded the orchestra's offices with calls and showed up at the airport on her return.

"I didn't go into this competition to win," she says. "I went to compete with myself and learn from my colleagues." And maybe a few of them learned from her.