Above: Yefim Bronfman, a NY Philharmonic photo
~ Authors: Oberon and Ben Weaver
Wednesday January 16th, 2019 - Beethoven's Piano Concerto No. 2 and Rachmaninoff's Symphony No. 2 made for an exciting pairing at The New York Philharmonic this evening. Yefim Bronfman was at the Steinway, with Jaap van Zweden on the podium.
Feeling under the weather, but very much wanting to hear Mr. Bronfman's Beethoven, I arranged with Ben Weaver that I would just stay for the first half of the concert and that he would write about the Rachmaninoff 2nd.
Whisperers in front of us were a nuisance, but they eventually settled in as the long orchestral introduction to Beethoven's Haydnesque 2nd piano concerto unfolded. The pianist joins; Bronfman's playing had a lyrical flow, with entrancing subtleties etched in. The orchestra simply sounded great, and Maestro van Zweden held sway in a vivid performance. As the opening Allegro con brio proceeded, Mr. Bronfman's playing often summoned forth remarkable softness of touch, an extraordinary delicacy; in the cadenza, his dynamic palette was in full flourish.
The pianist made a spine-tinglingly quiet entrance in the Adagio; a series of trills brought special delight, and - remarkably - he honed the pianissimo down even further until it was a mere whisper, a thread of sound. Then, with another exquisitely sustained trill, the second movement ended with a hushed sense of wonder.
Immediately, Mr. Bronfman commenced the lively piano passage that opens the concluding Rondo. The orchestra, savoring the swift pace that Maestro van Zweden had set, gave the pianist an ideal backdrop for his brilliantly dextrous playing.
Prolonged applause, with the artists of the Philharmonic tapping their bows and stamping their feet, drew the great pianist back for an encore: rather than a virtuoso showpiece, Mr. Bronfman chose a tranquil Bach solo which he played with uncanny control, spinning the music out in some of the most eloquently atmospheric playing I've ever heard. A gorgeous quietude settled over the hall.
~ Oberon
(Now passing the pen to Ben Weaver...):
Sergei Rachmaninoff’s beloved Symphony No. 2 gave him much grief during composition. It was the disastrous performance of his 1st Symphony that caused a composer’s block and the help of a hypnotist got the traumatized composer composing again. After years of struggling to regain his footing, the 2nd Symphony was triumphantly received in its Moscow premiere, conducted by the composer himself. Though critics commented on the length of the work (running a little over an hour), they also praised its beautiful melodies and inventive orchestration. Rachmaninoff authorized an abridged version of the work, but the NY Philharmonic - fortunately - presents the symphony unabridged.
The Symphony opens with churning, sinister strings; cousins to the contemporaneously composed tone poem “The Isle of the Dead.” Violins try to break the mood in vain: darkness perseveres for some time. Maestro van Zweden seemed to want it that way: he wasn’t letting the violins take over in those early minutes, placing the focus on the lower strings. van Zweden’s overall approach to the work was on the severe side. The technicolor Romance of the Symphony was desaturated. Though the tempos were well- judged, never feeling rushed, the heart was taken off the sleeve. The achingly beautiful Adagio with its searing violins that have made grown men weep was not allowed to linger. The majestic clarinet solo in the same movement (Anthony McGill, playing beautifully) was less majestic than one would want.
Surprisingly, even Alan Gilbert, van Zweden’s direct predecessor and a conductor who I often thought treated warhorses abominably, made a stunningly sincere live recording of the symphony with the Philharmonic a few years ago. I expected van Zweden to lead a similarly fearless performance and perhaps it’s the expectation that made it seem cold and disappointing instead. (The playing by the orchestra, however, was beyond reproach.) One may argue that there’s enough saccharine in the work already and it needs to be diluted. I’d argue, instead, that denying the nature of a thing is the cruelest thing.
~ Ben Weaver