Weber, Brahms, Tchaikovsky:  Nikolai Lugansky (piano); Philharmonia Orchestra/Alexander Lazarev. QEH, Thursday, 26.04.2007 (CC)

Under a mediocre conductor, the Philharmonia is still a superb orchestra – it is almost indestructible in this respect. Yet under a top-class conductor, it not only restates its international class but plays as if inspired. The latter was the clear case at the meeting of the Philharmonia and Alexander Lazarev. Lazarev is a conductor of huge personality who clearly likes to interact with his audience (he turned to us twice while the performance was ongoing) yet who would be incapable of doing anything showy purely for the sake of it. Close your eyes, and his musical integrity is beyond doubt.

The concert was unique in my memory for one aspect of its programming – each of the pieces begins with solo, unaccompanied horn!. Weber's Oberon conjured up images of fairy tale and magical half-lights as well as moments of real jubilation of the sort only Weber knows how to invoke. Over and above this, all was expertly balanced by Lazarev. Sparkling!

Brahms' Second Piano Concerto is quite a prospect for any pianist. Nikolai Lugansky has previously left me with mixed feelings, whether in recital at the Wigmore or in concerto at the Barbican. Here he outstripped all expectations. The opening was interesting for the slight 'buzz' to the horn tone and for Lugansky's surprisingly bright-toned reply. Generally light of pedal, Lugansky's intention seemed to be to highlight the chamber music aspects of the work. Woodwind interactions were a delight (one could hear substabtially more orchestrational detail than usual). Technically, Lugansky is superbly equipped. There was no hint of slowing for Brahms' heaviest demands. The second movement found the strings at their darkest, contrasting with Lugansky's brightness. Interetingly, Lazarev seemed to encourage string portamento, a lovely touch and not in the least syrupy.

Josephine Knight was the excellent solo cellist in the Andante. I wonder if the literal element to the strings' entry was intentional?. The finale brought an intriguingly Weber-like lightness with it. This was piano in conversation with orchestra, each out to be more witty than the other. And then an encore – a glittering account from Lugansky of the Scherzo from Mendelssohn's Midsummer Night's Dream, arranged by Rachmaninov.

Finally, a deserved outing for Tchaikovsky's Second Symphony, the so-called 'Little Russian' ('Little Russia' is actually the Ukraine, the geographical source of much of the work's thematic material). It began with Lazarev turning towards the audience as the horn theme rang out, almost as if he was telling us a story in melody. If there was a hint of unnecessary point-making at the opening of the Allegro vivo, it was swept away by the sheer life of the interpretation. Lazarev, interestingly, highlighted a decending  trombone motif that seemed to link to the descending 'Fate' motif of the Fourth Symphony. The sectionalised Andantino marziale made perfect sense in Lazarev's hands, while the Scherzo flickered. Only a slight hint of getting there by the skin of their teeth distracted the concentrationin the violins' rapid counter-melody in the Trio. The virtuoso variations of the finale emerged from a blindingly bright opening. Amazingly, there was not a trace of bombast here. A stunning concert.

The pre-concert event was interesting. One of the Philharmonia's 'Music of today' events, it conusted of two works by David Sawer (a Kagel pupil), introduced as always by Julian Anderson. Members of the Philharmonia first performed Take Off of 1987, a 'mechanical ballet' inspired by the attampts of the Wright brothers to fly. Sawer's clear and consistent ear for sonority impressed, as did a gorgeous, singing viola line. Then came Hollywood Extra (1996),  a piece specifically written to accompany the 1928 independent avant-garde silent film The Life and Death of 9413 – A Hollywood Extra. This was both eerie and fascinating. The ensemble became a pit band as the lights dimmed and memories of Glass' Dracula over at the RFH a number of  years ago came flooding back. Sawer succeeds in his stated aim of underlinig the tragi-comic heart of the film (a satire on the Hollywood star system). Fascinating. Sawer has a clear talent for this medium. The revivifying of silent films by contemporary composers is clearly fertile ground.

Colin Clarke