When Great Pianists Irritate The Rest Of Us

When Great Pianists Irritate The Rest Of Us

OK, I’ve got to say it:  Sometimes the “Great Pianists” disappoint me.  I guess I’m thinking of some of their older recordings, when they were young and quite sure of themselves.  Take Rubinstein, for example, a great master if there ever was one; yet what a difference between some of his earlier recordings and the ones he made towards the end of his career.  I cringe when I hear some of his recordings from the early years; yet among his best recordings are the Brahms B-flat Concerto, with Ormandy—I love the cover art of the two older gentlemen—and his last recording playing the Brahms D-minor in Israel with Zubin Mehta conducting. 

Maybe it’s youthful ardor versus wiser maturity, a road all or most of us must take. Or maybe it’s something else, something more inherent in the artist himself.

Take Vladimir Horowitz.  With Horowitz there’s a hyper nervous energy that drives him like a whip. He just can’t play fast enough or simply enough notes at once.  Many of his recordings reflect musical vision that surpasses that of practically any pianist after him and probably before.  His Schumann Fantasy from the Return To Carnegie Hall concert soars with eagles and lulls you with the most achingly intimate finale one could possibly imagine.

Yet on his recording with Ormandy of the Rachmaninov 3^rd, (there are actually two, if I’m not mistaken, one from 1951 and the other from 1978) all I was hearing was acrobatics.  He might as well have been an Olympic athlete, except you could hear the wrong notes and almost visualize the errors he made on the mat, er, keyboard.

The tone is dry and harsh; the concept more overdone baroque than underplayed romantic.

On the recording I heard (judging by the sound, I’m guessing it was the 1951 version), Horowitz made the orchestra disappear, which I guess was a result of the way the engineers miked the recording.  When you can actually hear the orchestra, they sound like a bunch of mice scurrying about.  My guess is Ormandy would never let anyone other than Horowitz get away with making HIS orchestra play like that.  The closing octaves sound as though he can’t wait to get this whole experience over with—and truthfully, that’s how I felt too.

Of course I may just be mentally comparing this recording with the one by Emil Gilels and Andre Cluytens, a fantastic performance in which the orchestra and the piano are perfectly matched in passion, sound and concept. 

So maybe it isn’t a question of age.  At least not all of the time.  I’m sure that age brings about maturity (with most of us), and with that comes richer musicality.  That was definitely the case with Rubinstein.  But with Horowitz, there’s just no accounting.  His Scarlatti sparkles; his Schumann soars.  But his Rach Third just runs away, and that’s a shame.


(c) 2016 by Boaz D. Heilman

(Mostly) French Music at the Boston Symphony Orchestra Concert

(Mostly) French Music at the Boston Symphony Orchestra Concert

Saturday, Jan. 16, 2016

Francois-Xavier Roth, conductor; Renee Fleming, soprano

Program:  

Debussy:  Jeux

Dutilleux:  Le Temps L'horloge

Canteloube: Selections from Songs of the Auvergne

Stravinsky: Petrushka

I was excited to go to this concert because it was my first opportunity to hear Petrushka live.  I heard it on recordings--countless times.  I heard (and played through) the piano version.  But never the orchestral version live.

When I was a teen, I got my hands on the LP of Petrushka played by the Israel Philharmonic with Lorin Maazel conducting.  That was my education for the piece.  I could practically see the fair and the puppets.  It was cinematic and visual.  The fade-ins and fade-outs were perfect.  The rhythm and the meter just so.  This is the performance that is ingrained in my inner ear, and perhaps no other version will ever quite match that.

But there are other reasons why tonight's performance was somewhat disappointing to me.

Let's be clear:  The BSO is a fantastic orchestra. That's a fact. However, I was disappointed by Petrushka. It was bombastic and strangely lacking in nuance (in sound, meter and emotion). The brass section blared uncontrolled, with balance and melody suffering for the hyped up volume. Individually, there was great playing and there were wonderful moments.  Elizabeth Rowe's flute solo was superb, and the tuba was magnificent.  The trumpet section glows.  So it came as an unpleasant surprise then when the last trumpet solo didn't quite make it notewise.  It also wasn't quite menacing enough, but both of these are really the conductor's fault.  Roth's interpretation reached for volume, not nuance.  At moments I felt that the orchestra was uncomfortable with the tempos Roth chose.  I find that so many performers (that includes conductors) simply don't let the music breathe or tell its story.  They force the sound instead of allowing the music to speak for itself.  Listening is the most important part of being a good musician.  The sound doesn't have to go wall-to-wall; you can leave some room for silence at either end of the spectrum (especially the loud end).  And phrasing!  That is so much a function of breathing.  The trumpet solo failed mostly because Roth didn't let it happen.  He forced it.  It wasn't Petrushka's spirit shaking its fist menacingly from the top of the marionette theater--it was some giant dragon trying to issue one last roar and flame.  That's not what it is supposed to be.

 Renee Fleming has a gorgeous voice, but it was not well suited for the dark blocks of sound of the Deutilleux. The Songs of the Auvergne was lovely but weak on character. Ms. Fleming's dark green gown, however, was a beauty.  Entering the stage, the gown seemed almost black. But as Ms. Fleming approached the center of the stage, the color became apparent.  Would that the music was so nuanced.

By far, the jewel of the evening was Jeux by Debussy. The BSO and Francois-Xavier Roth captured the sparkle, the sound bursts, the colors, the sinuous lines, the flames. That was worth the entire concert. Now that showed the orchestra in its best light... er... sound. 

Did I say the BSO is a fantastic orchestra? Because it is.