The second of the Philharmonic’s Boulez-Ravel celebrations (birth centenary of the former, 150th of the latter) brought Bertrand Chamayou back: after his performance of the G major piano concerto in January, this time it was as soloist in the Concerto for the Left Hand, with Ludovic Morlot on the podium.
It’s a different piece of stuff from the two-hands concerto (though contemporary). Whereas the G major varies the role of the soloist, sometimes offering a balance of power between orchestral and keyboard resources, in the left-hand one Ravel was at pains to see that the solo should never seem other than in the tradition of heroic overcomer, with a textural roar equal to that of any virtuosic keyboard lion.
It tends to be a spectacle of David and Goliath proportions, as the one hand powers its way up and down the range of the piano. Chamayou took the bull by the horns and gripped the instrument’s outer frame with his right hand, the more to unleash the strength of his left on its keys. The slowly building resonances of the opening were magnificent, and he brought rich lyrical cantabile to the melodies of the più lento section. Morlot unleashed the orchestra’s sound as a threatening force in the unrelenting march rhythm that follows, but it served mainly to bring a sense of anticipation before the cadenza, which, summing up all that has gone before, emerged as the highpoint of the whole work. Chamayou thus proved himself undoubted winner of the seemingly unequal contest and was hailed as such by those in the hall. It’s a strange experience to witness, as it seems born of a tradition of keyboard-versus-the-world that we may shrink from today, but its origin (written for Ludwig Wittgenstein’s brother, Paul, who lost an arm in the Great War) is undeniably one of heroism against all odds and it deserves to be interpreted in that style.
Chamayou had a chance to demonstrate again his more intimate side in a brief encore: Ravel’s elegiac Trois beaux oiseaux du Paradis, in his own piano solo arrangement.
The other Ravel composition for orchestra, preceding the concerto, was the ballet score of Ma Mere L’Oye. (The programme note, even in its online version on the day of performance, described the earlier Mother Goose Suite rather than the complete ballet music, which places the depicted fairy stories in a slightly different order as well as preceding them with a prelude and spinning wheel dance, but Morlot did briefly explain the change of plan).
For this the strings were fewer than in the concerto, and the gentle world of fantasy and imagination the ballet conjures was beautifully evoked, from the sound of distant fanfares and introduction of characters in the storybook through to the glorious finale of the Sleeping Beauty’s Awakening. There was a warm woodwind blend in her Pavane, after the opening two numbers, and some excellent instrumental solos, notably from leader Zoe Beyers (with some of the sweetest high harmonics I’ve heard for a long time), principal clarinet John Bradbury and cor anglais Henrietta Cooke.
Boulez had his way at the outset of the concert, with a vast orchestra (more strings on stage than at any point subsequently, and the platform extension employed just to get everyone in place) for his Notations 1-4. This was the orchestral version of some of his early piano music, in which the original’s simplicity was transformed into blasts of instrumental sound. Morlot (pictured right) was entirely in command of the rhythmical complexities that ensue in pieces 1, 4 and 3 (to be played in that order, said the composer, and the final (No. 2) created a sustained perpetual motion in its jogging pace that brought things to end with a bang.
Ending with a bang was something Mussorgsky could achieve, as Pictures From An Exhibition reveals: it was the popular title the programme was sold on, and there because of Ravel’s brilliant orchestration of the composer’s solo piano text. Repertoire work it may be, but the BBC Philharmonic under Morlot lavished all their expertise and care upon it. There were sweet string textures in both Il Vecchio castello and Tuileries, with clear and limpid wind playing, and a fine high tuba solo for the Bydlo movement. Morlot took the Ballet des poussins dans leurs coques at a real vivo leggiero and paced the gradual anticipatory sequence that leads to the Baba Yaga movement and then La Grande Porte de Kiev with immense skill – that final paean was kept warm, flowing and free of bombast until the very end.
- To be broadcast on Radio 3 on 12 March
- More classical reviews on theartsdesk
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