TCHAIKOVSKY: Romeo and Juliet 
          RACHMANINOV: Piano Concerto No.1 
          TCHAIKOVSKY: Symphony No. 6, Pathétique 
          
          
        
         This concert of Russian works opened 
          with Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet Overture and Vladimir 
          Ashkenazy conducted this familiar work in a deliberately cool and 
          detached manner, keeping the temperature down before gradually increasing 
          the tension and passion. He knows exactly how to pace this showpiece, 
          giving it both grandeur and austerity. He also knows how to build to 
          and sustain a climax without allowing the music to become undisciplined. 
          There was something powerfully direct and translucent about his reading 
          which gave the performance an added impact. Notably powerful were the 
          horns and percussion section, while the Philharmonia strings played 
          with a swooning passion.
        This concert of Russian works opened 
          with Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet Overture and Vladimir 
          Ashkenazy conducted this familiar work in a deliberately cool and 
          detached manner, keeping the temperature down before gradually increasing 
          the tension and passion. He knows exactly how to pace this showpiece, 
          giving it both grandeur and austerity. He also knows how to build to 
          and sustain a climax without allowing the music to become undisciplined. 
          There was something powerfully direct and translucent about his reading 
          which gave the performance an added impact. Notably powerful were the 
          horns and percussion section, while the Philharmonia strings played 
          with a swooning passion.
          
          The orchestra played with even more intensity and passion in the rarely 
          performed Rachmaninov First Piano Concerto. This concerto is 
          part of Ashkenazy’s repertoire as a soloist, and he has played and recorded 
          the work under Previn, so he was able to give beautifully prepared and 
          shaped support, for instance evincing a fine, dark Russian sound from 
          the brass section.
          
          The writing for the piano in the Vivace - Moderato seemed erratic, 
          anarchic and disjointed: a case of notes for notes sake, rather typifying 
          an early work by an eager young composer. However, Brazilian-born Cristina 
          Ortiz’ fiery athleticism matched Rachmaninov’s excessive note spinning. 
          Ortiz, like all great virtuosi, made the concerto sound better than 
          it really is. She threw herself into the work with tremendous physical 
          force. One felt hearing her playing that this was not merely another 
          run through, but as much a voyage of discovery for her as for an audience 
          unfamiliar with the work. While Rachmaninov’s orchestration was rather 
          bland the Philharmonia under Ashkenazy’s skilled guidance played with 
          vivacity and precision.
          The Andante was where Rachmaninov seemed to find his true voice, 
          and Ortiz changed tone and mood, playing with dark and sombre tones 
          which were perfectly complemented by a rich dark hued carpet of strings. 
          The orchestration of the Allegro vivace is reminiscent of the 
          last movement of the composer’s First Symphony and Ortiz was more than 
          a match for the technical demands of this rapid-fire finale, switching 
          up several gears to play with an almost manic ferocity. She rightly 
          received an ovation for her dazzling performance. 
          
          Ashkenazy’s reading of Tchaikovsky’s Sixth Symphony was something of 
          a revelation in its fresh conceptualisation. For Ashkenazy all the movements 
          seemed to grow naturally out of each other; he treated the whole work 
          as one huge arch. The opening Adagio was suitably reserved and 
          subdued, slowly giving way to the highly charged and emotionally intense 
          Allegro non troppos which was wonderfully articulated by both 
          conductor and orchestra. Frequently this section can be blurred, but 
          here even during the loudest sections, the expressive and beautifully 
          played piccolo and flute could still be clearly heard. The trombones 
          and horns were moody and sinister in tone, while the strings added extra 
          poignancy to the famous yearning love theme. The conductor held the 
          orchestra in check, never allowing the music to devolve into the merely 
          sensational. It was the Philharmonia’s timpanist that gave this movement 
          its nerve-shredding intensity. 
          
          The Allegro con grazia had a lilting buoyancy and Ashkenazy’s 
          floating phrasing gave the music an uplifting graciousness and charm, 
          whilst the Allegro molto vivace had spring and power with a great 
          sense of forward drive. The conductor got the marching rhythm to perfection, 
          achieving a great sense of swagger which stirred the audience to spontaneous 
          applause only to be halted by Ashkenazy raising his arms and swooping 
          straight into the last movement.
          
          Many conductors play the Finale: Andante lamentoso far 
          to slowly, milking every last ounce of pathos. Ashkenazy’s tempi were 
          quite brisk, giving the music an urgency and pulsating drive. The Philharmonia 
          suddenly took on a more dissonant sound, becoming stark and much blacker 
          in tone. When the music finally died away there was a rapt silence before 
          the audience applauded, so moved were they by the intensity and poignancy 
          of this performance.
          
          Thanks to Ashenazy’s assured tempi and structural grasp, as well as 
          the enthusiasm of the Philharmonia, this was a highly revelatory performance 
          of a very familiar work. 
          Alex Russell