Conductor: Edward Gardner
Still in the first week of the Festival Hall’s new season, Edward Gardner and the London Philharmonic Orchestra offers another thrilling programme of two full-length pieces by Rachmaninoff, his Piano Concerto No. 3 in D Minor, Op. 30 (1909) and the huge choral-orchestral work, The Bells, Op. 35 (1913). It’s a wonderful opportunity to hear the LPO playing with such an array of instrumentalists. Between the two works, trombones and tubas, horns and trumpets, various percussion instruments (requiring a 5-strong team of players), a celeste, an organ and a harp are all needed. Added to all this, in The Bells, we hear the impressive London Philharmonic Choir.
The Piano Concerto No. 3 was first judged by Prokofiev to be ‘dry, difficult and unappealing’. It’s hard to see why he thought so, so lush and rich is the piece with such thrilling changes of tempo, such brilliant inventiveness and colour.
The real excitement of the evening is the presence of one of the world’s most renowned pianists, Leif Ove Andsnes. On dazzling form, Andsnes plays this most complex of piano concertos with such extraordinary virtuosity and style that it would be hard not to fall in love with it. Andsnes gives to his performance both tenderness and attack, paying minute attention to the constantly changing dynamics. One could sense something of his profound understanding of every phrase. After the lyrical opening melody come great swelling passages from the strings, and against this, Andsnes captures both the delicacy and the growing restlessness of the energy so characteristic of the piece. Particularly memorable were sections in which the piano and flute were in quiet conversation, principal flautist Juliette Bausor giving a beautifully sensitive performance.
Andsnes is a fascinating performer to watch with his calm grace and spectacular dexterity. The London Philharmonic Orchestra, under the baton of Edward Gardner, presents a thrilling interpretation of the piece, particularly in its intense crescendos and fiery resolutions. An exhilarating performance from both orchestra and soloist.
Rachmaninoff’s The Bells is another thrilling piece. Set to a poem by Edgar Allan Poe, translated into Russian by Konstantin Balmont, it charts a steadily darkening mood from its light-hearted Allegro ma non tanto, ‘The silver sleigh-bells’ through to its Lento lugubre, ‘The mournful iron bells’. Hearing Russian church bells, the programme notes tell us, had been one of Rachmaninoff’s most vividly recalled childhood experiences. In one sense, the piece could be an allegory for the passage from childhood to old age. But, appropriately for Poe’s writing, the dominant image is of nighttime. The ‘silver sleigh bells’, created by harp, piano, celeste and glockenspiel, are described in the poem as ringing in the clear night air, under stars which ‘listen’. Words sung by tenor Dymtro Popov create a magical exuberance.
The second movement, Lento (‘The mellow wedding bells’), seems strangely subdued in comparison, with the wistful cellos at the start, then the harp and the quiet humming of the chorus illustrating the lines about ‘universal slumber’. We should remember that weddings traditionally took place at night, which perhaps explains Rachmaninoff’s colouring here. Soprano Kristina Mkhitaryan performs as the soloist in this section.
Darkness falls decisively in the third section, Presto (‘The loud alarum bells’), with its urgent horns and percussion and strong echoes of Verdi’s Dies Irae. The words of this section are unyieldingly harsh: ‘Hear, hear, the howling of the alarm bell/ like the groaning of a brazen hell’ it begins; ‘your call, this wild, discordant noise/ proclaims our peril’.
Bass-baritone Kostas Smoriginas is the soloist for the exhilarating final section, Lento lugubre (‘The mournful iron bells’). His is the most notable of the three solo performances, powerful and intense. Poe’s text is wonderfully lugubrious here, commanding us to hear the funeral knell, ‘tochna ston’ – like a groan; ‘someone dark is standing there/ howling, howling, howling ‘ (i gudit, gudit, gudit’). But although the text ends with the stillness of the grave, once again, it is the lyrical voice of the flute that suggests at least some comfort.
A richly exhilarating evening.
Reviewed on 28 September 2024
A richly exhilarating evening
The Reviews Hub Score
