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Beethoven, Berlioz: Hélène Grimaud (piano); Philharmonia Orchestra/Esa-Pekka Salonen. Royal Festival Hall, London, 28.9.2008 (CC)


Good to hear the Philharmonia Orchestra under its new Principal Conductor and Artistic Director, Esa-Pekka Salonen. A composer/conductor, Salonen is an exciting choice. But was I alone in having a slight feeling of unease, a slight feeling of déjà-vu?. After all, Giuseppe Sinopoli, another composer/conductor, took over the orchestra a while ago. At the time, those of us weaned on contemporary music were really rather excited ... until Sinopoli brought us programmes and recordings of, amongst other things, Mendelssohn, Ravel and Mahler. Here was Salonen bringing absolutely mainstream repertoire. History repeating itself?

I for one hope not, and in fairness the concert that preceded this one this week included Salonen’s strong Stravinsky, Prokofiev and Bartók. Salonen is an intelligent conductor, immensely clear of beat and, one gets the impression, just as clear about what he wants. Perhaps  too, he wanted to raise an eyebrow or two with the choice of the second Leonore Overture as opposed to the more usual third. What impressed most  though, was Salonen’s sensitivity to harmonic shifts, his elicitation of magical quiet playing from his forces and his intelligent delineation of lines. There were things missing though – despite the cleanliness of the playing, Beethovenian thrust was blunted, and fire only really appeared in the lead-in to the (offstage) trumpet fanfares.

The coupling of Grimaud and Salonen, recently encountered on Grimaud’s disc Credo (DG), seemed a rather unsettled one. Grimaud’s entrance, open-air and brash even, stood in high contrast to Salonen’s beautifully tender retort. While one sat agape at Grimaud’s finger dexterity in this trickiest of Beethoven concertos, one also became aware that she was over-projecting. Surely she has had enough exposure to the Festival Hall to know its acoustic a little better? Moments usually defined as magical, came and went as one became increasingly doubtful of any true chemistry between soloist and conductor, a sentiment underlined and confirmed by the trudge of the Andante con moto (it was not particularly “Andante”, nor did it have a great deal of “moto”). Grimaud, on this occasion at least, did not have the requisite concentration for the piano’s musings. Only the finale fired itself up to anything like the standard one might have hoped for. Again, stunning fingerwork from Grimaud (who kept, rather bizarrely, staring at the audience in her free moments).

As if intent on dismissing all memories of the concerto, Berlioz’ Symphonie fantastique was given a truly world-class performance, with Salonen emphasising the hallucinogenic nature of the work’s inspiration. Orchestral discipline was supremely tight, and soloists shone brightly (in particular Jill Crowther’s cor anglais , Gordon Hunt’s oboe in the “Scène aux champs” and Alistair Mackie’s subtle cornet in “Un bal”).  Compaints? The waltz was somewhat elegant but not properly suave and there was a surprising loss of tension as brass tolled out the “Dies irae” in the finale. In compensation, a pitch black “Marche au supplice” and grotesqueries aplenty in the finale.

Colin Clarke


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