Seen and Heard Concert
Review
Sibelius and Rachmaninov:
Janine Jansen (violin), Philharmonia Orchestra, Mikhail Pletnev
(conductor), RFH, 6th February, 2005 (AR)
Pletnev and the Philharmonia Orchestra’s concert featuring
works by Sibelius and Rachmaninov may very well turn out to be
my concert of the year. From beginning to end, this was an evening
of magical music making of the highest artistic order, and the
finest accounts I have heard of either of these works.
Pletnev’s broad and mesmerising reading of Sibelius’
tone poem, The Bard, Op. 64, conjured up an uncannily
chilling atmosphere, the harp glissandi starkly contrasted with
the shimmering melancholic strings. The solo harp set the alien
mood of the score and was played with great agility by Lucy Wakeford.
The Dutch violinist Janine Jansen is clearly an artist to watch
in the future. She eschews virtuosity for virtuosity’s sake:
she is too interested in interpreting the score to worry about
superficialities. Her hypersensitive interpretation had a meticulous
attention to detail as well as a huge dynamic and expressive range
whilst avoiding the usual romantic clichés this work inspires
in lesser musicians. Her radical interpretation made the Heifetz,
Chung, Perlman and Vengerov readings seem romantically archaic.
In the Allegro moderato Jansen’s paradoxically
rugged yet refined tone had an acidic-razor sharpness, producing
a painful poignancy that often melted dangerously into nothingness:
danger and risk are what mark her radical interpretation above
those standardized (and over romanticized) readings. Secure intonation
is not what her playing is about: rather she seeks an insecure
soundscape, teasing out nuances we have never heard before. The
Adagio di molto was played with a quivering intensity,
producing dark and brooding tones that were stark and unsettling,
giving an eerie sensation of alien agitation, so apt for this
adagio. In the Allegro, ma non tanto she produced a bizarre
array of hybrid sounds, from rawness to refinement, yet she remained
utterly in control. Pletnev and the Philharmonia offered not merely
superb support but treated the score more as a symphonic poem
bringing out far more drama and weight than is usually heard in
this concerto. I literally had never heard this work clearly before
hearing Jansen, Pletnev and the Philharmonia perform it here -
particular woodwind and timpani details I have never noticed before
in concert or in recordings shone through.
Pletnev’s paradigm performance of Rachmaninov’s
Second Symphony in E minor, Op. 27 is by far the greatest
I have heard, even surpassing André Previn’s famous
and much vaunted readings. Pletnev not only had a masterly grasp
of the metre and structure of the score, but also drew out orchestral
detail rarely heard before, notably, intricate writing for timpani,
and exquisite woodwind detail. The darkly played deep ‘cello
tone of the opening of the Largo – Allegro set the mood
of the movement and marked the gravitas of the performance as
a whole. Pletnev made the strings murmur and strive with a seamless
flow, letting the music meander at its own pace without indulging
in mannered gear shifts or distortions of dynamics. The brass
departments were strongly punctuated and shone radiantly. In contrast,
the Allegro molto was angular and taut, tinged with lyrical
moments of melancholia. Here the percussion were incisive without
ever sounding brash or over-blown.
What crowned this performance was the sublime clarinet solo of
the opening of the Adagio which was played with a gut-wrenching
poignancy. Pletnev took this movement at a slightly quicker pace
than is customary but it never sound rushed - the conductor was
wonderfully relaxed and conducted with balletic ease, often with
one hand resting on the podium. Yet, this was by far the most
intense, urgent and powerfully passionate performance I have ever
heard of the Adagio which had the audience totally gripped
in the aura of melancholic jouissance. In the closing
bars of the final movement, Pletnev increased the pace and the
energy, brass and timpani playing with overwhelming visceral intensity
which was almost too unbearable to take in: a life affirming ending
to a broodingly melancholic score.
Pletnev and the Philharmonia received ecstatic applause from a
spell-bound audience: indeed, throughout the performance there
was total silence – usually the hallmark of a mesmerising
musical event. Two children gave Pletnev flowers: he gave one
bunch to Maya Iwabuchi, the orchestra leader; the other he laid
on the score.
Alex Russell
Further listening:
Rachmaninov Symphony No.2 in E minor, Op. 27,
The Rock – Fantasia Op. 7; Russian National Orchestra, Mikhail
Pletnev (conductor): DGG: 439 888-2
