Very recently both Rob Barnett and I
warmly
welcomed an Avie recording of orchestral music by Rachmaninov
by the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra and their conductor
Vasily Petrenko. Now the same artists have teamed up with the
young Macedonian pianist Simon Trpčeski (b. 1979) for a coupling
of Rachmaninov’s most popular piano concertos. I was very enthusiastic
about the sound quality of the preceding disc as well as the performances
so I was glad to see that Avie have used the same team of producer
John Fraser and engineer David A Pigott.
For comparison purposes I had the chance to listen to the Hyperion
recordings of both concertos by Stephen Hough working with the
Dallas Symphony Orchestra and Andrew Litton. Hough is a pianist
I admire very much, though I’d not heard his Rachmaninov concerto
recordings before. Those performances were taken down ‘live’ in
concerts whereas these Trpčeski versions were made under studio
conditions. Hough’s versions were originally released in a two-disc
set of all Rachmaninov’s five works for piano and orchestra. My
colleagues
Kevin
Sutton and
Colin
Clarke were both extremely enthusiastic about this set, though
I see that
Christopher
Howell was rather less enthusiastic, especially about the
Second and Third concertos. More recently, Hyperion has released
the Hough accounts of the Second and Third concertos disc as a
separate disc, which puts them into direct competition with the
new arrival from Avie.
Stephen
Francis Vasta praised Hough’s pianism but expressed some reservations
about the contributions of the conductor and orchestra.
This is Trpčeski’s first concerto disc, though he has made some
acclaimed recital recordings. Much though I enjoy the greatly-loved
Second Concerto, I esteem the mighty Third even more highly so
I was particularly interested to see how he would measure up in
this demanding piece, which is rightly described in the booklet
note as “a crowning glory of the so-called ‘Silver Age’ of Imperial
Russian culture.”
From the very start he makes a favourably impression, voicing
the long opening melody with simple eloquence and a fine, singing
tone. He and Petrenko set a pace that seems to me to be absolutely
ideal for the music; just fast enough to provide the necessary
momentum but with enough spaciousness to allow the lyricism to
flower. By contrast Stephen Hough is appreciably quicker and when
the orchestra takes up the melody (at 0:52 in his performance)
the tempo increases still further. To be frank, Hough and his
conductor, Andrew Litton, make the music sound rushed and almost
superficial. I’m sure some will find it a bracing change but to
me it sounds like Rachmaninov-lite.
The first movement of the concerto is hugely demanding for the
soloist, both technically and musically. However, Trpčeski seems
consistently in command. He opts for the earlier, much longer
cadenza (10:24-12:58). This massive cadenza is ferociously difficult
but it draws from Trpčeski a commanding display of pianism, which
is very exciting to hear. Hough opts for the shorter – but no
less pyrotechnic – cadenza and delivers it extremely well. Readers
may get an inkling of the somewhat faster speeds adopted for parts
of the Hough performance by the fact that he arrives at the cadenza
at 9:47.
The second movement is entitled ‘Intermezzo’, though it is effectively
a series of variations. The late Michael Steinberg describes the
movement as “all adventure and event”. Supported by some fine,
rich orchestral playing, Trpčeski gives a most persuasive reading.
For much of the movement’s course the music is stirringly romantic,
often brooding. Soloist and conductor achieve a sweeping climax
(from 6:26) and the later scherzo-like episode is deftly handled.
Compared with their reading of the first movement Hough and Litton
adopt much more “conventional” pacing in this intermezzo and this
is much more to my taste. In the finale both pianists offer some
fantastic examples of virtuoso finger work and both performances
have plenty of dash about them. Trpčeski is also very convincing
in his pacing of the more reflective passages. Hough’s performance
is taken from a live concert and perhaps this accounts for his
faster basic tempo. I find that the music can take such an energetic
speed more than was the case in the first movement and Hough offers
some dazzling playing. However, I think he sacrifices some grandeur
– which Trpčeski does not – and while I’m sure his reading of
this movement – and, indeed, of the whole concerto – would be
exhilarating when heard in the concert hall I think that Trpčeski’s
reading is more satisfying for repeated listening.
It must be difficult for any pianist to essay the Second Concerto
on disc. What on earth can one find to say fresh about a work
that’s been so often recorded and that is in danger of being regarded
as a “war horse”? Should one try to say something “fresh” or simply
offer a superbly played, “central” interpretation? My sense is
that Stephen Hough allies himself with those who opt for a “fresh”
approach while Trpčeski is a “central” interpreter. That seems
to be apparent right at the start where the Macedonian plays those
famous opening chords with impressive weight and at what one might
call a traditional tempo. Hough, by contrast, plays the chords
quickly and in what sounds, to be honest, a rather routine way.
There’s no sense of rhetoric and I felt cheated. Just out of interest
I revisited the composer’s own 1929 recording with Stokowski and
the Philadelphia Orchestra (Naxos
8.110601)
and his pacing of these chords is somewhere between the two but
closer, on balance, to Trpčeski. There’s an old canard that one
never gets a second chance to make a first impression and, though
perhaps this was wrong of me, I think Hough’s treatment of this
opening rather influenced my view thereafter of his performance
of the first movement at least. It’s noticeable that his performance
of the concerto lasts 32:26 and the main difference of timing
between the two versions comes in this first movement, where Hough
shaves nearly one minute off Trpčeski’s timing.
I greatly enjoyed Trpčeski’s account of I – and his collaboration
with Petrenko and the RLPO. He has all the depth of tone and pianistic
weight that the music needs but, just as importantly, he’s able
to play with a filigree lightness of touch in the many passages
where Rachmaninov demands it. The RLPO offers excellent playing
and one is struck by the number of occasions here and throughout
the work where Rachmaninov gives the burden of the musical argument
to the orchestra with the soloist in an accompanying role. The
firm tone of the orchestra’s string section is very satisfying
and there are also a good number of fine woodwind solos to savour.
The second movement is ushered in with lovely flute and clarinet
solos, cushioned on a soft bed of string tone. Trpčeski plays
with refined delicacy when he joins in. The brief scherzo-like
episode is dispatched with élan by all concerned. After the short
cadenza I loved the beguiling melancholy with which the violins
gently play the main melody while Trpčeski provides lovely decoration.
In this same movement Hough is similarly excellent though he does
rather press on at times. Generally his is a lighter conception
of the music – though perfectly valid, I feel – and I relished
the panache with which he and the Dallas players toss off the
scherzo section.
The finale opens energetically in Liverpool – and in Dallas also.
When the Big Tune appears for the first time Petrenko ensures
it’s delivered tastefully and quite simply. Much of the Liverpool
performance of this movement is red-blooded and passionate but
it never tips over into excess. In fact this performance by Trpčeski
and Petrenko is full of integrity and also light and shade. When
the apotheosis of the Big Tune is reached (10:22) it’s ardent
and powerful. There’s much to enjoy in the Hough/Litton traversal
also, not least an admirable lightness of touch by the soloist.
However, there were a number of occasions when the playing of
the quicker music was very fast indeed, verging almost on the
unstable. Perhaps this is part and parcel of the momentum of a
live performance.
A word should be said about the recorded sound. The Hyperion recording
has the performers set back a bit more from the microphones than
is the case with the Avie recording. I quite like that as it conveys
the feel of a concert hall and the orchestra is reported with
more left-to-right space. The Avie recording is more forward and
full- blooded. To be honest, having waxed lyrical about the sound
on their previous disc of purely orchestral music I’m not quite
so sure about the sound achieved this time. Trpčeski’s piano is
very prominent and whilst that allows us to appreciate his splendid
playing and tone this does to be rather at the expense of the
orchestra. In fact, at least as much orchestral detail registers
on the Hyperion release despite – or due to – the slightly more
distanced placing of the performers from the microphones.
On one of the occasions when I was listening to this disc I read
through a pair of essays, one on each of the two concertos, by
the late Michael Steinberg, from which I’ve already quoted. Towards
the end of his essay on the Third Concerto Steinberg has this
to say. “As in the Second Concerto, Rachmaninov sees the soloist
not merely as someone who can sing soulfully and thunder imposingly,
but as an alert, flexible, responsive musician who knows how to
listen, blend and accompany.” I’d say that in both of these performances
Simon Trpčeski fits the bill admirably. I certainly wouldn’t dismiss
the Hough recordings – he’s far too able and thoughtful a pianist
for that – but my preference is for this new Trpčeski coupling.
A follow-up disc of the First and Fourth Concertos together with
the
‘Paganini’ Rhapsody is on the way from Avie and that’s
eagerly awaited. For now, however, this present disc is a fine
achievement, which I’ve enjoyed immensely.
John Quinn
Simon Trpčeski (piano) 
