Sergei RACHMANINOV (1873-1943)
Piano Concerto No. 1 in F sharp minor, Op 1 (1891/1919) [25:37]
Piano Concerto No. 2 in C minor, Op 18 (1897) [32:42]
Leif Ove Andsnes (piano)
Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra/Antonio Pappano
rec. Philharmonie, Berlin, June 2005
EMI CLASSICS 5181842 [58:30]
I'd somehow missed these performances on their first, full-priced go-round,
and I'm glad to have caught this F-sharp minor now. The first movement
has its overtly flashy moments, but Leif Ove Andsnes, unlike Mikhail Pletnev
in his uninvolved CfP account, knows that it can't just be a virtuoso
exercise. Andsnes keeps even the busiest passages - like the disturbed figurations
under the vaguely undulating second theme in the orchestra - so intelligently
layered, so purposefully directed, that you almost forget how hard it is just
to play what's there. The cadenza is a full-blooded musical
statement, with the faster notes registering as reflections of the deep, solid
chords. Andsnes's handling of the other movements is similarly perceptive.
The Andante is beguilingly expressive, with ear-catching pianos;
the finale's waltz theme has both rhythmic buoyancy and tonal weight.
Antonio Pappano, like Pletnev's Libor Pešek an active collaborator,
elicits a nice variety of colors and textures from the orchestra. He has a
marked feeling for expressive nuance: note the ebb and flow of the cello counter-melodies
in the first movement, and the "soft" landing at the Andante's
first expansive climax. The warm Berlin strings movingly shape the finale's
second theme, with its unexpected harmonic and melodic turns. The horns sing
out firmly; the whirling woodwind squibs are given their head. The tuttis
are full-blooded and alert: the turbulent climax at 3:23 of the first movement
hurtles forward. The finale begins with bracing rhythmic address.
The C minor, recorded in performance, is similarly musical and persuasive,
benefiting from more of Andsnes's distinctive shapings and voicings
- I'd never before felt the piano's "chordal counterpoint"
to the cello line at 2:30 of the first movement, for example. Sadly, the orchestral
contribution here isn't equally inspired. I imagine that the Berliners
play the score more regularly than its less familiar companion, and here,
perhaps, they've reverted somewhat to the "default" settings
routined in their fingers and lungs. Granted, the Berlin Philharmonic's
default is hardly bad, even if the Karajan influence persists in some overly
reined-in string melodies, and in the oozy textures of the finale's
climax. The playing is often beautiful, but only intermittently glowing. Only
the finale's taut start rises above the conventional.
Some of the orchestral climaxes have a hint of "digital edge"; otherwise
the sound is excellent, reproducing both piano and orchestra with depth. Endorsed
then, with reservations as noted. In the C minor concerto, Ashkenazy's
second recording, with Previn and the LSO (Decca), remains the most thrilling
in comparatively modern sound.
Stephen Francis Vasta
Stephen Francis Vasta is a New York-based conductor, coach, and journalist.
Musical and persuasive.