Above: conductor Kirill Karabits; photo by Konrad Kwik
~ Author: Ben Weaver
Wednesday February 20th, 2019 – The Russian National Orchestra’s highly anticipated visit to Lincoln Center’s Great Performers series with an all-Rachmaninoff concert drew a big and appreciative crowd, filled with many Russian-speakers who were buzzing about Mikhail Pletnev’s performance. Mr. Pletnev, star pianist and new conductor, was the founding conductor of the orchestra in the early 1990s after the collapse of the Soviet Union found many Soviet orchestras starved for money. Pletnev, pulling in financial backing from the West, formed the RNO and hired many leading musicians from the now former USSR’s other orchestras, creating something of an all-Star ensemble. It remains to this day Russia’s only privately-backed orchestra. Maestro Pletnev has since stepped back from full-time conducting duties and on Wednesday, February 20th appeared as soloist in Rachmaninoff’s 2nd Piano Concerto. Kirill Karabits, who has gained much attention as chief conductor of Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra, was on the podium.
Pletnev entered to a warm welcome from the audience, dressed all in black, looking very Russian dour. The playing was anything but, however. The brief solo introduction, a series of dramatic chords before the orchestra enters with its famous first theme, showcased Pletnev’s strong, muscled tone. The muscle, however, is not lacking in musicality and lyricism. The orchestra entered with a very slow Moderato. I wondered how the choice of tempo would be able to sustain the musical line without breaking.
At first both Pletnev and Karabits (via RNO) managed fine. Pletnev’s beautiful control of the piano’s dynamics, the legato of the playing, never ceding control to the orchestra, but also never showcasing himself for the sake of showboating, he seemed to be playing a concerto with piano, not just for it. This beautiful integration of sound, the marriage between the instruments, was lovely to behold. But as the movement began to build to its climax and the drama began to build, the slow tempo caught up to the proceedings. Pletnev suddenly felt muzzled, needing to take extended breaks between chords that are usually played together so that the orchestra could catch up. Pletnev seemed to desperately want to move forward and felt restrained; it created an uncomfortable pull and push between orchestra and conductor as the movement ended. The concerto’s famous Adagio sostenuto was lovely – piano and orchestra finally breathing as one, and the thrilling final Allegro showcased Pletnev’s effortlessly perfect finger work. The audience exploded with satisfaction and Pletnev gave a fascinating performance of Scarlatti’s Sonata in D minor, K.9, making it sound like ringing bells.
Above: pianist Mikhail Pletnev; photo by Alexey Molchanovsky
All ears were now on Kirill Karabits for Rachmaninoff’s ever-fresh Symphonic Dances, Op. 45, his final composition and one he considered his best. Written in 1941 while Rachmaninoff lived on Long Island, NY, the piece was dedicated to The Philadelphia Orchestra and Eugene Ormandy (who gave the world premiere performance in 1941) and intended to be a ballet choreographed by Mikhail Fokine. Alas, Fokine died before the project could be brought to fruition. (It has been choreographed by several leading choreographers since, including Peter Martins for New York City Ballet.)
Maestro Karabits, handsome, trim and in a perfectly fitted suit, is a fun conductor to watch, his wide, dramatic and balletic gestures helping to propel the music. The opening dance, Non allegro, was very dramatic with its driving, sharp rhythms nicely articulated; the mournful saxophone solo – and the other wind instruments – shone in the mournful sections of the movement – before the dramatic, Stravinskian rhythms return – only to dissipate like Loge’s Fire Music from Wagner’s Die Walküre, the first time I’ve made the musical connection between those two sections. The boozy, mysterious waltz of the second movement (when the Symphonic Dances were still a ballet, this was called “Midnight”), a cousin to Ravel’s La valse, sashayed nicely with its weird combination of sexiness and creepiness. The dramatic final movement, with its extensive quotations of Rachmaninoff’s favorite leitmotif, the Dies irae, was a thrilling, thundering conclusion to a perfectly paced performance. This was perhaps the most exciting performance of the Symphonic Dances I’ve heard live, so kudos to the superb Russian National Orchestra and maestro Karabits.
The audience shared my enthusiasm and received 3 encores: a ravishing Rachmaninoff Vocalise, The Russian Sailors’ Dance from Glière’s The Red Poppy, and Lysenko’s Overture to Taras Bul’ba.
~ Ben Weaver
Oberon's Glade 