SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL

Dvorak: Carnival Overture, Op 92

Shostakovich: Piano Concerto No 2 in F major, Op 102

 

Brahms: Symphony No 4 in E minor Op .98

 

It was quite nice to have a concert begin with a rousing overture, an opening that seems to go against the current trend of beginning a concert with a major orchestral work or symphony/concerto. Dvorak's Carnival overture, a centerpiece in a trio of overtures with interlinking thematic motives which Dvorak wrote in 1891, set the up-beat mood of the first half of the concert, aptly complimenting the humour and high spirits of the Shostakovich concerto to follow. Although Bychkov gave the overture   quite an energetic reading, I didn't have a complete sense of carnival exuberance, contrasted with the fresh lyricism of the dance rhythms heard in performances with the likes of Ancerl and the Czech Philharmonic. There was a  four-square element here, not helped by rather heavier rhythms and occasional muddy ensemble.

 

Shostakovich's Second Piano Concerto was composed in 1956-7 for his nineteen year old son Maxim, who gave the premiere in May 1957. The concerto is mostly light-hearted with occasional touches of carnivalesque irony and even, in the finale,   burlesque inflections.  The work marks an apt  contrast with the more serious preoccupations, like the Eleventh Symphony, which the composer was working on at the time. There was a real sense of dialogue here between soloist and conductor. Matsuev was certainly not short on dazzling virtuosity, but he never descended into virtuoso showmanship, and his playing always integrated with the chiaroscuro contrasts in the orchestral parts. The general excellence of the performance was due in no little part to Bychkov's totally empathic conducting, which realised, particularly in the second movement 'Andante', not only the 'dreamy' quality one notable commentator found here, but a more sombre quality, mixed with a 'reckless opulence' which almost reminded me of Rachmaninov. The two outer 'extrovert' movements were a joy, from the opening perky bassoon figure to the almost kitsch 'jazzy' inflections of the finale with its riotous coda. I particularly liked the way that both soloist and conductor managed the transition from the quasi Alla Breve of the second movement’s coda to the 7/8 jauntiness of the finale’s opening gesture.  I am not usually taken by encores, especially when they deflect from the tone of the work they follow but tonight Matsuev gave us something absolutely aptwith Liadov's charming miniature 'Musical Box' : particularly appropriate in the context of Shostakovich's fascination with toys and toyshops.

 

Brahms, like Beethoven, was prone to providing rather vague tempo markings - 'Allegro non troppo', fast but not too fast - which sounds fine. But how fast exactly? And then how to balance this with the right ‘not too fast?’ Of course, the conductor’s job is to discern the right sounding tempo structure from a complete understanding of the movement’s harmonic structure, and from there, the important tonal/dynamic contrasts needed. Conductors like Klemperer and Furtwangler, in their very different ways, used to take this movement at a fairly measured pace, emphasising the 'non troppo'. Both these masters had an innate sense of the movements inner counterpoint and 'pulse'; its dynamic contour in relation to the whole symphony.

 

Tonight Bychkov also emphasised the 'non troppo' marking but here I had no great sense of movement, pulse or dynamic contrast. Throughout, there was no real projection  of the underlying structural  'line', and rather than producing a superbly integrated symphonic narrative, Bychkov allowed the music both to drag and sag.

 

One particularly depressing example of this was the wonderful long decrescendo of shifting harmonies, and modulations, passing from voice to voice, and leading back to the tonic of E minor, which initiates the recapitulation. Rather than sustaining a magical line, the music here became increasingly static, almost grinding to a full stop. None of this was helped by problems of orchestral balance resulting in frequent smudged ensemble. Tovey's 'clouds of mystery' in the pp, as they register in the initiation of the recapitulation, sounded too loud tonight. Bychkov's second movement 'Andante moderato' also seemed more like a quasi 'adagio' tonight. There was simply no sense of the music’s inevitable movement and flow. And by the time we reached the return, from C major to the home key of E minor, in the powerful ff tutti statement of the second subject’s theme which gives way to the 'sumptuous harmony' of major key modulations in divided strings, turgidness had replaced the wonderful contour of harmonic contrast that Brahms  intended. The decision to deploy non-antiphonal violins didn't help matters either.

 

Things livened up in the last two movements, although the 'Allegro giocoso' of the third movement (probably the closest Brahms came to writing an orchestral scherzo) didn't dispel memories of Toscanini. A really 'great' performance should guide all attention to itself, without memories of other, or past interpretations. The great passacaglia theme and variations of the last movement has been the test, and stumbling block of numerous conductors and apart from another note of turgidity in the first statement of the passacaglia theme, and a less than well accompanied flute passage from variations eleven  to twelve, Bychkov did initiate the stern, cutting tutti drama of variations  sixteen to eighteen with real conviction: and then managed a surging 'energico e passionato' up until variation twenty nine with its falling thirds, reminding us of the theme in the first movement. If only the rest of the performance had been so convincing. Alas, the tension failed to sustain itself into the coda, Bychkov ignoring the all important and 'ominous ritardando in the thirtieth variation at the coda's initiation and expansion, thus robbing it of its sense of  stoical, even 'tragic' resolution as it storms to its sternly inevitable close. 

 

 

Geoff Diggines