Pyotr Ilyich TCHAIKOVSKY (1840-1893)
 Piano Concerto No. 1 in B flat minor, Op. 23 (1874-1875, rev. 1879-1880)
		(original version)
 Piano Concerto No. 3 in E flat major, Op. 75 (1893) [15:10]
 Alexander SCRIABIN (1871-1915)
 Piano Concerto in F sharp minor, Op. 20 (1896) [25:58]
 Xiayin Wang (piano)
 Royal Scottish National Orchestra/Peter Oundjian
 rec. 2018, Royal Concert Hall, Glasgow
 Reviewed as a stereo 24/96 download from
    
        Chandos.net
    
 Pdf booklet included
 CHANDOS CHSA5216 SACD
    [75:08]
	
	The bar is set very high when it comes to these concertos, and that poses a
    formidable challenge for pianists brave – or foolhardy – enough to attempt
    them. That said, having
    
        reviewed
    
    Xiayin Wang and these forces in a splendid pairing of the Khachaturian
    concerto and the original version of Tchaikovsky’s G major one, I’ve no
    doubt she’s bold – and limber – enough to vault these three (with room to
    spare). And the presence of Peter Oundjian and the RSNO, whose latest John
    Adams release was so warmly welcomed by
    
        Simon Thompson,
    is a definite plus.
 
    Usually, I list several of comparative versions of the work(s) 
	under review, but this time I’ll select just one each. Starting with 
	Tchaikovsky’s first concerto, I was much impressed by Alexandra Dariescu’s 
	2014 account with Darrell Ang and the Royal Philharmonic (Signum). As for the third concerto, I always return to Peter Donohoe, 
	Rudolf Barshai and the Bournemouth Symphony, recorded in 1989 (Warner). Then there’s the Scriabin, as set down by Yevgeny Sudbin, 
	Andrew Litton and the Bergen Phil in 2013 (BIS).
 
    Given the legendary status of Tchaikovsky’s Op. 23 – and its long line of
    stellar soloists – it’s all too easy for lesser pianists to over-reach
    themselves with this one. That’s what turned me off two recent recordings,
    with Denis Kozhukhin (Pentatone) and Beatrice Rana (Warner). Indeed, one of
the greatest strengths of the Dariescu/Ang performance is that it    doesn’t punch above its weight. That said, there’s eloquence and
    insight aplenty, which, together with an attractive coupling – Mikhail
    Pletnev’s Nutcracker arrangement – and good sound, makes for a most
    enjoyable release.
 
    That same judicious approach is very much in evidence in Xiayin Wang’s Op.
    23, the famous opening still thrilling in its surge and sweep. She’s firm
    and focused from start to finish, Ralph Couzens and Jonathan Cooper’s
    recording warm and weighty. The RSNO are on top form, too, with liquid
    woodwinds and songful strings. But it’s the soloist’s imaginative phrasing
    and disarming manner that deserve the most praise here. Also, Oundjian, a
    sympathetic accompanist, allows the music to ebb and flow in the most
    natural and unobtrusive way. Tuttis are all the more satisfying for being
    so discreetly signposted and so sensibly scaled.
 
    My word, Xiayin Wang is a very thoughtful and engaging artist, the pliancy
    and soul of the ensuing Andantino especially pleasing. What a lovely
    touch, too, Tchaikovsky’s jewelled writing as lustrous as one could wish.
Happily, she’s rhythmically supple yet suitably animated in the    Allegro con fuoco, which burns with a steady flame rather than
    flares with magnesium heat. Then again, that’s the nature of this
    performance, which has none of the self-seeking pyrotechnics that so often
    mar this exhilarating finale. And so it is with the compact, closely argued
    Op. 75, where Xiayin Wang’s technical prowess, sensitively channelled,
    serves the music and nothing else.
 
    How sensuous she is in the Scriabin, its rich harmonies superbly realised
    by soloist and orchestra alike. It’s a piece that’s apt to sprawl, and that
it doesn’t here is a measure of everyone’s clarity and commitment. The    Andante has wonderful poise and detail, the latter a reminder of how
    good the engineering is. It’s all so exquisitely washed and tinted, our
    painter-pianist showing exemplary taste and good judgment throughout. As
    for the finale, essayed with a strong sense of shape and approaching
    exultation, it’s even more rewarding when delivered with such assurance and
    style.
 
    Would I want to be without Dariescu and Donohoe in the Tchaikovsky, or
    Sudbin’s Scriabin? No, but I’m happy to file Xiayin Wang’s fine
    performances alongside theirs. And while I’ve grumbled about the sound of
    some recent Chandos releases, I’ve absolutely no qualms about this one.
    Detailed liner-notes by David Nice complete a most attractive package.
 
    Xiayin Wang just gets better and better; well worth your time and money.
 
    Dan Morgan