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Bartók and Bruckner: Lang Lang (piano), London Symphony Orchestra, Daniel Harding, Barbican Hall, London, 20.4.2009 (GDn) 

Bartók: Piano Concerto no. 2 Sz.95
Bruckner: Symphony no. 5 in Bb major


‘Light and popular’ – Bartók’s description of his Second Piano Concerto could equally apply to Lang Lang’s approach to music. Perceptions are relative, of course, and Bartók’s use of these terms does not necessarily correspond to anybody else’s. The work is a showcase for virtuoso talent, but its style is pure Bartók, setting it some distance from the Romantic concertos for which this pianist is better known. The showmanship that Lang Lang brings to the stage found its ideal vehicle in Bartók’s complex cross-rhythms. He made no secret of the challenges they posed, sometimes nodding his head in time to the beat as he played the syncopation, sometimes silently counting (in English interestingly) the quavers in the few beats rest he is afforded. And you could count the piano’s rests in this piece on the fingers of one hand. It is a solid, complex solo part by anybody’s standards, even Bartók’s. Yet Lang Lang is determined to find its ‘light and popular’ side. He bounces off the spiccato interjections, makes great show of the minute scurrying at the top of the keyboard, and gives great solemnity to the block chord textures that regularly interrupt the flow of the orchestra.

All this is as true of his body language as of the resulting sounds, but as so often with theatrical piano performance, it is hard to know where the interpretation ends and the showboating begins. He played with the music on the stand, no shame in that with this repertoire, but his body language with regard to the sheet music spoke volumes. Often when playing a right hand passage he would shake his left fist at the notes, determination rather than anger I thought, but on seeing the deep furrows on his brow I wasn’t so sure.

Daniel Harding’s handling of the orchestra in the concerto was superb: tempo and metre changes expertly handled, the soloist’s rubato inflections immediately grasped and communicated, and a unity of purpose underpinning every aspect of the orchestra’s performance.

Bruckner’s Fifth Symphony proved to be more of a challenge. It is a piece that demands rigorous interpretation, a structural approach to tempo relationships, and, above all else, a firm grasp of the orchestral forces. But Harding does not have the authority over the orchestra, nor, I suspect, the interpretive insight, to achieve any of this. His handling of the brass was a particular problem, and almost every brass interjection was too loud, particularly the trombones. Splits in the horns made many of their passages uncomfortable, and the trumpets had continuous tuning problems. The numerous buildups in the outer movements became excruciating anticipations of what the brass might do when the climax was reached. The woodwind and timpani also struggled with balance and intonation. Loose entries came as a surprise given Harding’s commendably clear beat, and to an orchestra who manage excellent ensemble for their principle conductor, Valery Gergiev, despite his rarely giving any downbeats at all.

The strings were the only section to maintain a high and consistent standard, their plump tutti pizzicato sound a particular delight, and the low strings in the fugal episode near the start of the finale a fabulously dark, burnished tone. But the lack of coherent tempo relationships and structural thinking made these fleeting pleasures. Bruckner marks the openings of the first and third movements adagio and the second movement sehr langsam. Many conductors push their luck with these directions, especially the opening, taking it as slowly as they can while still maintaining the atmosphere of expectation. Harding, by contrast, opened each of these movements in an andante, mezzo forte comfort zone, which he steadfastly maintained, ignoring almost every subsequent detail of tempo and phrasing. It was a no nonsense approach, but so much of music’s poetry was lost that whatever advantages this alternate offered seemed poor compensation. The performance was too rigid and, in almost every instance, too fast. Perhaps this is the result of a conscious interpretive decision on Harding’s part, an effort to sweep away the accepted wisdom of Bruckner performance and present something challenging and new. Or perhaps he just wanted to go home early. I certainly did.

Gavin Dixon


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