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Rachmaninov and Stravinsky: Nikolai Lugansky (piano), Philharmonia Orchestra, Jukka-Pekka Saraste, Royal Festival Hall, London, 16.4.2009 (BBr)

Rachmaninov: The Isle of the Dead, op.29 (1909) and Piano Concerto No.2 in C minor, op.18 (1900/1901)
Stravinsky: The Firebird, Suite (1945 version)


I can’t help but wonder if Rachmaninov’s bleak and startling vision of Charon and his boat crossing the River Styx is quite the right piece of music with which to open any concert. Yes, it is a masterpiece, but it is a challenging work for any time in a concert, and to open an evening’s entertainment? I had the feeling that perhaps Saraste might have been of the same impression for he started the work in a most nonchalant, almost lackadaisical, manner, the music being far too loud and there was a distinct lack of mystery. But as the performance progressed I began to understand that his grasp of the architecture of the piece was such that the gradual build up of tension, and strain, demanded this somewhat uninvolved start. The climax, when it came, was devastating in its power and ferocity, coming, as it did, after such a methodical, and frighteningly logical, build up from that unprepossessing opening. This was one journey, I decided, that I must avoid at all costs!

Nikolai Lugansky’s performance of the old friend that is Rachmaninov’s C minor Concerto was, in some ways, a revelation for he managed to breathe new life into this piece which we all think we know so well. It is good to know that there is a new generation of pianists who can see new things in works such as this, but in order for us to hear it we had to pay a price. There were the problems of balance between soloist and orchestra which we have become used to since the RFH reopened after its refurbishment, but tonight there were fewer than I have experienced in the past, however, I wasn’t quite convinced that soloist and conductor were both singing from the same hymn sheet. At times, Saraste was quite happy to let the orchestra take over – and it played very well for him – and Lugansky didn’t seem to mind, for although he played all the right notes (to coin a phrase) and played them very well, I didn’t feel that he played the music. I was left feeling cheated that we had been given only half the story Rachmaninov unfolds for us in his work. As an encore Lugansky gave us the Prelude in G, op.32/5 and here he displayed all the intensity and poetry which I found lacking in the Concerto. This was a revelation.

Stravinsky’s Suite from his first ballet The Firebird exists in three versions – 1910, 1919 (the most popular and regularly played one) and 1945. My favourite is the first for it shows the composer’s mind in its original white hot state – a large orchestra, a succinct five movement piece ending with the Infernal Dance of the Subjects of King Kaschei, and a totally thrilling experience. The 1919 version is in six movements and has an happy ending with the Berceuse and Finale following the Infernal Dance. The 1945 version, which we heard tonight, has the six movements from the 1919 version and five extra vignettes making a playing time of approximately half the length of the complete ballet; it also uses a much smaller orchestra than the original, and the orchestration is slightly different from the preceding suite. I don’t think that I’ve ever heard the 1945 version before and I enjoyed it, if, at times, it seems a little precious in its presentation of the material. But it was good to be given this chance to hear it and I thoroughly enjoyed it – so did the packed audience for they were never quieter or more attentive than here.

Saraste is a fine conductor and he knows how to get the best out of his players and the Philharmonia played fabulously for him. There was some very distinguished wind playing from the four principals, the brass was as full and resplendent as you could hope for and James Clark led a full throated string section. The whole was a joy to hear. Not a perfect evening, perhaps, but one with sufficient good things in it to make one go home pleased with what one had heard.

Bob Briggs


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