CD Reviews (The Straits Times, October 2014)

SCHARWENKA Piano Concertos

ALEXANDER MARKOVICH, Piano

Estonian National Symphony / Neeme Järvi

Chandos 10814 (2 CDs) / ****1/2

How the fortunes of Franz Xaver Scharwenka (1850-1924) have fallen over the decades since his death, for once he was feted as a piano virtuoso and founder of musical conservatories. Even his Polish Dance in E flat minor (Op.3 No.1), once popular among amateurs, is rarely heard these days. This double CD album (priced as one disc) hopes to revive the memory of the Polish composer whose four piano concertos combined the virtuoso flourishes of Liszt and nationalistic fervour of Chopin, and like Rachmaninov, all cast in minor keys.

It does not matter which CD one begins with, as the foursome spans between 1876 and 1908 and displays little or no tendency to evolve with the times. Perhaps the best known, however little, is No.1 in B flat minor, which was famously recorded by Earl Wild in 1969. It has a scintillating Scherzo and is cyclical in form, as the opening theme also closes the concerto. All four are extremely accessible and make enjoyable listening. Russian pianist Alexander Markovich’s no holds barred approach and thunderous pianism is not always subtle but the full-blooded Romanticism of these scores shine through. Estonian conductor Neeme Järvi is a committed proselytiser of rarely-heard music, and the Estonian National Orchestra whole-heartedly supports this well-conceived venture.

GREAT RECORDINGS

Berlin Philharmonic

Deutsche Grammophon 479 2231 (8 CDs) / *****

Want to sample the greatness of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra/? Look no further than this mini box-set that provides a cross-section of its discography from the late 1940s to 2005 under the batons of seven great conductors. There is only one duplication with the 50 CD Centenary Edition, that of current chief conductor Simon Rattle leading Brahms’s Piano Concerto No.1 with soloist Krystian Zimerman. More representative of the orchestra’s legacy of discipline and pristine sound may be found in recordings by Herbert von Karajan (Richard Strauss’s An Alpine Symphony), Claudio Abbado (Mahler’s Ninth Symphony) and Carlo Maria Giulini (Beethoven’s Choral Symphony), the obvious plums of this set.

Further Austro-German music come from Wilhelm Furtwängler (overtures and orchestral highlights from Wagner operas) in 1949 and 1951 mono recordings, Karl Böhm (Schubert’s Unfinished and Great Symphonies) and a very satisfying outing with Rafael Kubelik (Schumann’s Second and Fourth Symphonies). Fans of Anne-Sophie Mutter will delight in her very precocious teenaged account of Beethoven’s Violin Concerto with Karajan. The original sleeve-art has been replicated but no write-up or history of the orchestra has been included. Priced at about $4 a disc, this set is still an excellent and hugely enjoyable bargain.  

NO AUTOGRAPHS PLEASE, We're from Berlin

Four hopeful young people, including two music students and a local composer (obviously fans of the great Sir Simon Rattle), had waited some 30 minutes outside the Esplanade stage door and loading bay in the hope of meeting the Music Director of the Berliner Philharmoniker.

As soon as that famous silver mop came into view, they were stopped by the Maestro’s manager and handler. “No autographs, no photographs, in order to avoid embarrassment,” said the German stuffed suit to the Esplanade staff on duty, and further added that “these people” should stay clear from the driveway when the official BPO limousine drove through. He was not rude but the officious tone sent a clear message: no one should even come close to or within presence of the grey eminence. Being in Sir Simon Rattle’s breathing space is verboten. So clear off, scram and be gone!

Twenty one years after the events of 9 November 1989, a Brit has successfully re-erected the Berlin Wall.

Perhaps some day, all public concerts by Sir Simon Rattle and the Berliner Philharmoniker should be issued with this advisory:

ACHTUNG!

Sir Simon Rattle and the Berliner Philharmoniker seek your understanding that as an extremely important and busy man, and conductor of “one of the world’s best orchestras”, His Musical Highness does not wish to be in the company of riffraff, hoi polloi, paparazzi, H5N1 supercarriers, lepers und Untermensch. Therefore your chance of getting an autograph is as remote as Madalena Kozena bearing your children. Vielen dank.

Auf Wiedersehen, Herr Rattle

Berliner Philharmoniker with Sir Simon Rattle / Review

BERLINER PHILHARMONIKER
WITH SIR SIMON RATTLE
Esplanade Concert Hall
Tuesday & Wednesday (23 & 24 November 2010)

This review was published in The Straits Times on 26 November 2010.

Few orchestras have come to perform in Singapore with such a burden of expectation as the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra, that any pre-concert hyperbole would have a hollow ring to it. Epithets such as “one of the world’s best orchestras” just does not seem to do any justice, and with at $680 a pop (the top-priced ticket), it had better be brilliant.

In its final leg of an Australasian tour, the German orchestra under chief conductor Sir Simon Rattle performed a mostly-Viennese programme on two sold-out evenings. Having no concertos on the programme was a bonus; good money was paid not to hear the orchestra accompany soloists. These precious minutes could not have been better spent on purely orchestral fare.

Haydn was the juicy opener on the first evening. Listeners might have lost count on his Symphony No.99 in E flat major, but this was no makeweight. The sound generated from a scaled-down band was full and beefy from the outset, an emphatic Beethovenian chord ushering in playing of both delicacy and refinement. This might sound paradoxical, but the music’s dynamics demanded playing from both ends of the spectrum, to which the orchestra duly obliged. Grace and humour, lightness and drive, were all part of the palette that made its Haydn alive and kicking.

Three Orchestral Pieces (revised 1929) by Alban Berg provided extremes of contrasts. Fast forward Mahler’s sound world by some twenty years and a world war, and one gets is angst compacted into unseeming angular forms. Bare percussion, a whiff of brass and woodwind, greeted a new world order of chaos and nihilism. Alternating between lushness and violence, the ensuing Reigen (Round Dance) and March built up in terrifying intensity, inexorably leading up to that most Mahlerian of dramatic devices, the hammer-blows of Fate.

Brahms’ sunny Second Symphony provided much familiarity but no contempt. Should one ever tire of old warhorses, the antidote was this performance. Perfection never seeks diversions, and it was a pleasure to behold a reading that simply had no weaknesses. From svelte strings, pristine woodwinds (with solo oboe as the shining standout) to brassy chorales, everything sounded as it was meant to be.

The gloom of the slow movement soon made way for the symphony’s most cathartic minutes, all judged to maximum impact. Yet neither exaggeration nor overstatement was necessary. Even in the finale’s rousing throes, the orchestra delighted shifting from sotto voce (a muted whisper) to full-throated roar in a matter of measures, making for an aural experience which the greatest of recordings can never hope to replicate.

Superlatives continued into Wednesday, the second evening. Although Russian music was never the Berlin Philharmonic’s strongest suit, its view of Rachmaninov’s late Symphonic Dances was polished to such a fine sheen as to defy most doubters. Exiled from his homeland, Rachmaninov’s aching nostalgia came through unequivocally. The first movement’s saxophone solo and quote from the First Symphony were delivered superbly, as was the second movement’s ghostly waltz. The most Slavic-coloured finale was stretched close to breaking point, and the clangourous close left several questions hanging. Did this music depict an outright triumph or a pyrrhic victory?

There was little to guess in Mahler’s First Symphony, that most exportable of showpieces of visiting orchestras. One marvelled at the fine degree of control in the audible opening, and its journey from a buzz of pianissimo to the gleam of a bright morning sun. The country dance of the second movement was suitably earthy, and if there were a minor quibble, the Klezmer-like episodes of the third movement’s funeral march could have been more unbuttoned, and less bloodless.

The finale’s trudge from the depths of despair to blazing redemption was deliberate, but one well worth waiting for. The brass had a field day, with the French horns holding court. The standing ovation and chorus of bravos that greeted its conclusion was the most spontaneous ever witnessed in this hall. On the strengths of what transpired over two glorious evenings, it was wholly and well-deserved.

Photographs courtesy of Esplanade Theatres on the Bay (close-up shots), Vincent Wang (sky shots) & PianoManiac (cheap shots).