This middlebrow concert was a sheer delight – a music review by Fraser Beath McEwing
While my reviews usually concentrate on the Emirates Master Series because that’s supposed to attract the most musically sophisticated crowd, last night’s SSO program of the Rach 2 and a Respighi tone poem was a delicious diversion.
Sir Stephen Hough
Add to that, soloist Stephen Hough (now touched by the royal sword to become Sir Stephen), who is arguably the world’s greatest living pianist, John Wilson’s masterful conducting and an inform SSO, and you’ve got more icing than cake. I, for one, loved it. So did the sold-out audience, allowing itself to be seduced by the romanticism of the richest order. And I should mention that there’ll be more pough from Hough next week when he gets into the ring with the Rachmaninov’s first piano concerto.
The Rachmaninov piano Concerto No. 2 Op 18 is so well known and so loved there is not much that words can add. For the record, it was written in 1900 as Rachmaninov was emerging from three years of depression that had dried up his composing. The three movements did not come easily to his pen. He became bewildered by the first movement (now resplendent in its piano-only opening) and then struggled to produce an appropriate third movement. The result, however, brought him immediate audience approval and restored his confidence in composition.
Because this was a two-works-only concert, we arrived to find the Steinway already in place and ready to open proceedings. And once Sir Stephen went to work on it, magic poured forth. He entwined acute sensitivity with a blistering technique, making this a supreme performance.
I have no doubt that Hough could argue me into a cocked hat over phrasing, but his versions of many Rachmaninov passages were not in accordance with other popular interpretations. It was almost as though the soloist had followed a different score than most of his contemporaries. The first movement theme ran along at quite a lively pace but for me, craved a dot here and there. Same for the slow movement – but which still managed to bring a tear to the eye. And if the tear ducts survived the Rachmaninov, his encore of a Paderewski Nocturne would have got them working. It was breathtakingly beautiful.
Admittedly, if you didn’t love Respighi, this concert was a little overweight with his music. But I, for one, am a fan. It is generally accepted that Ravel was the greatest orchestrator ever, but I’d place Ottorino Respighi up there with him. His tone poem, The Pines of Rome creates miraculous sound inventions that seem to reach beyond the capability of a symphony orchestra. Having said that, it takes a nimble orchestra like the SSO to bring it fully alive. And that’s what we got. The conductor, 51-year-old Englishman John Wilson, was a good choice, especially for the Respighi, since he spends a lot of time in the big band jazz genre – which gives him a leg-up (or maybe down) into popular, mass-market music that you find in Hollywood musicals.
Wilson did wonders with a fully stocked orchestra which, it should be said, was further enhanced by the addition of rarely played instruments. And although they helped create a vivid product, Wilson’s ability to direct barely-there murmurs to almost-insane abandon would have made Respighi nod his head in admiration. The climax, which evokes an army marching towards us along the Appian Way, was more than music. It was a sensational experience.
