Wagner, Mozart, Janáček: Mitsuko Uchida (piano); Philharmonia Orchestra/Sir Charles Mackerras. RFH  24.6. 2007 (CC)

 

Sir Charles Mackerras is one of the grand old figures of the podium these days, enjoying universal acclaim and respect. If one removes the word 'old' from the preceding sentence, the same thing could be said of Mitsuko Uchida about the piano. The coupling of the two was destined to be special, especially when one extends the formula to two further Wunder-couplings: Uchida/Mozart and Mackerras/Janáček.

But first, Wagner's magisterial Meistersinger Prelude to Act 1. Sir Charles' DVD from the Sydney Opera House of the complete work began with a Prelude that was given a little more space than at the RFH, yet retained a sense of bustly business at hand. On Sunday, eight double-basses lined the back of the Philarmonia for depth of sound, with the timpani shunted over to the left. Antiphonal violins added clarity to the part-writing (this piece is, after all, highly contrapuntal); affable, pliant woodwind added charm to a performance directed with minimal gestures from the podium, Goodall-style. The speed was on the brisk side, but there was plenty of ebb and flow, not to mention real pianissimo contrasts and trills with much bite before the music ended in bright sunlight. Mackerras seemed to emphasise the light, comedic side of the drama to the exclusion of all else, perhaps intentionally giving us a teasing curtain-raiser. And the acoustic? After my caveats at the Brendel recital, it is good to report that, orchestrally at least, all seems well, with the hall having no problems in the challenging dynamic extremes of the Janáček Sinfonietta.

Interesting to compare Uchida at the Barbican with the LSO another Knight of the Realm, Sir Colin Davis on March 6^th this year. Davis' accompaniments (to Concerto No. 21) were rather heavy, lazy and rather old-school; Mackerras (here in No. 25) was another kettle of fish entirely, displaying the same airy style punctuated by sharp accents (hard-stick timpani) as he does in his series of Philips recordings with Brendel. Uchida clearly relished the orchestral tutti, to judge by her facial expressions – this was a bright and breezy account. Again, antiphonal violins helped articulate the ongoing musical argument. Uchida's affection for the score was obvious in her playing, right from her (highly effective) entrance. She used a slightly brigter tone generally, making piano/orchestral interplay especially fascinating in this joyful concerto. The brisk slow movement included a rather unfortunate descending scale for the violins (ensemble slipped as the pitch lowered!!). Despite this, Uchida spun rapt wonderment; the perfect complement to the stately finale's charm.

It was the Sinfonietta which marked this as a Concert of the Year contender, though. An intimidating array of trumpets (flanking the great Maurice – or Morris, as his name was printed in the programme! - Murphy) and arresting timpani made for a sonic spectacular. Crescendi were simply huge, while the brass re-read staccati as an indicatoin to unleash sonic bullets at the audience. Mackerras gave the music much leeway in the Andante (the violins this time giving a creditable shot at their stratospheric passage). Maybe the Moderato third movement was the real highight, with its sighing strings and trombone section that was clearly having a ball. The crisp and incisive 'Crown Court' movement (dare I refer to it as such?! - the composer called it 'The Street'!) led to a finale of high contrasts, between the nostalgia of its opening, the magnificently wailing clarinet and dark rumblings before the final re-emergence of brass-saturated textures. It was a triumph of pacing. Simply superb.

 

Colin Clarke