This set is a real treat which will bring many joys upon repeated
listening. It is the result of a particularly happy collaboration
between Pizarro, Mackerras and the SCO from November 2008.
All had worked together before and the sessions were originally
booked to record just the third and fourth concerto. Apparently,
however, the recording went so successfully that they had ample
time left over and so they decided to add the
Emperor
to the disc. There is a host of things to enjoy here, as well
as one or two things to regret. For example, the blend between
orchestra and soloist is rather too homogeneous so that at times,
particularly in the
Emperor, Pizarro’s playing is subsumed
into the general orchestral texture. It would have been nice
to have had him placed further forward, though not all will
agree with me. On to the joys, though.
The SCO have long been at the top of the collection
of ensembles who play in “authentic” style on modern instruments
and the sinuous opening of the third concerto benefits from
the hint of period inflection it is given in the strings.
The effect is to set up a dark, troubled atmosphere from the
outset, hinting at danger lying just below the surface. The
exposition as a whole carries tremendous weight so that the
weighty chords before the soloist’s entry feel like a thunderous
full stop. In contrast to this Pizarro’s playing is communicative
and subtle rather than combative: the piano is no antagonist
in this reading, instead he feels more like a searcher, a
thoughtful enquirer. Not everyone will like this approach,
but I felt it shed unexpected light on the movement. His
style works particularly well for the Elysian peace of the
slow movement. This, like all three of the slow movements,
was kept moving at a fair pace so as to avoid becoming stodgy.
The finale was lively and exciting, and the E major clarinet
melody about 4 minutes in felt like a radiant breath of fresh
air, beautifully played. The natural timpani also made a
fantastic impression, particularly during, and just before,
the C major canter of the final bars.
The opening of No. 4 shocked its first listeners
and Pizarro’s approach unsettled me too: he arpeggiates the
first chord rather than playing it as one. This isn’t an
effect I liked, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing to shake
up our expectations of such familiar music. Once the opening
phrase on the piano is left hanging, the orchestra appears
to take it as a stimulus to carry on where the soloist left
things, and the whole of the first movement feels like a response
to those opening bars. It is here, more than in the other
concertos, that we can most feel the sense of give and take,
of an ongoing conversation. This is rare but very valuable
in music like this. Even the cadenza seems to grow from the
orchestral texture rather than existing to draw attention
to itself. The slow movement is played truly con moto,
with precision string playing that is clean and clipped.
The finale bounces along joyfully and there is a pleasing
rasp to the natural timpani and trumpets when they make their
presence known.
The Emperor is the bonus work and that
is evident from the sheer sense of exuberance in the music
making. I don’t think I’ve ever heard the first movement
blaze with such exaltation as here, the trumpet fanfares at
the end of the exposition sounding clear and focused, helping
to crown the event. I wasn’t quite so convinced by the speed
with which Mackerras takes the adagio: this of all
Beethoven’s slow movements needs space to unfold gradually.
Beautiful as the playing was, I couldn’t wallow in this movement,
which felt like it needed to be getting on somewhere. If
that appeals, though, you’ll find much to enjoy, and no-one
could be unhappy with the finale which really bursts with
joy right through to the final flourish.
Whatever your opinions on speeds or individual
touches, this is a wonderful issue: the playing, the sheer
musicianship and the sense of (yes!) fun come out again and
again. Mackerras knows this music and this orchestra intimately
and they produce playing of communicative skill that rivals
the best. Pizarro is skilful without being showy and he fits
admirably into the overall vision of the conductor. Everything
is captured in Linn’s typically exemplary sound which you
don’t need an SACD player to appreciate.
Simon Thompson
Artur Pizarro (piano)
LINN
RECORDS CKD 336 [67:34 + 35:48] 
