SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL

Bartók, Ravel, Debussy: Simon Trpčeski (piano); Philharmonia Orchestra/Charles Dutoi. RFH, 18.10. 2007 (CC)

Charles Dutoit’s affinity with the music of Ravel is the stuff of discographical legend, thanks to his series of recordings for Decca (many currently available on a remarkably cheap double, 460 214-2). Much to look forward to on the current programme, therefore, with two works by Ravel and one by Debussy. But what of the Bartók?

The Miraculous Mandarin Suite was once a regular on London concert listings in the 1980s thanks to the advocacy of Pierre Boulez. Boulez’ razor-sharp analysis-in-sound, plus his insistence on accuracy (both pitch and rhythm) guaranteed fascinating, often visceral results. Dutoit, in contrast, opted for a softer approach, one that seemed to underplay the heart of Bartók. Despite well articulated woodwind accents at the beginning, the overall impression was, well, rather wet. It sounded like Dutoit’s script was to emphasise the more Ravellian passages so as to meld the piece into the rest of the evening’s offerings. A novel approach, this, that yielded many moments of beauty (notably the clarinet solos). But even the final chase never actually took off.

Simon Trpčeski dedicated his performance of Ravel’s G major Concerto to his close friend and colleague Toshe Proeski (“The most significant pop musician in the history of my country”, wrote Trpčeski in his dedication), who died a few days ago, aged 26. Trpčeski has entertained and dazzled on several occasions, starting with an impressive Prokofiev Third at the World Piano Competition in London in 2000. He has scintillated in Saint-Saëns since then and he certainly seemed to enjoy the jazzy elements of the Ravel on the current showing. Beginning with a real crack from the orchestra, the performance was expertly accompanied by Dutoit, on home turf at last. The solo trumpet, in particular, seemed straight from the commedia dell'arte, while the harp contributions were things of true beauty. Trpčeski, meanwhile, failed to scintillate enough; as if to confirm this impression, his phrasing of the extended solo at the opening of the slow movement was rather wooden. The finale was the most successful portion of the concerto, its affinity to Stravinsky highlighted, as was its helter-skelter, jazz-influence demeanour.

The second half of the concert was the real triumph, without doubt. Ravel’s Valses nobles et sentimentales was all suavity. The orchestra really seemed on top form here, eager to please a conductor who has lived and breathed this music for decades. Gossamer textures, murmuring strings, even a pungent clarinet-led movement and a threat to launch into the excesses of La valse made this performance a multi-faceted jewel.

The cheers that followed Debussy’s La mer were richly justified. Dutoit conducted from memory. In contrast to Rattle’s more imposed-from-without recent readings (including his BPO recording), Dutoit presented the score as a living, breathing organism. Rather than beginning, this La mer felt its way into being, the phrases stretching naturally. A world-class choir of cellos evinced no sense of strain in perilous passages. If some tricky violin corners in the second movement were perhaps a touch wary, detail was exemplary throughout. Surprisingly perhaps, Dutoit brought something of a modernist tinge to the finale, imparting in the process a sense of space. Resplendent brass chorales crowned a notable reading.

Colin Clarke