Rachmaninov's Piano Concerto No.4

City Halls, Glasgow; 20/3/25

BBCSSO, Matthias Pintscher (conductor), Denis Kozhukhin (cello)

“Imagine...devastating beauty and breathtaking virtuosity” –the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra’s Thursday night concert season continued under the baton of German composer and conductor  Matthias Pintscher in Glasgow’s City Halls on the night of 20th March – The work referred to was Rachmaninov's Piano Concerto No.4, with Denis Kozhukhin as soloist.  However, an equally luscious feast of late romanticism awaited the ears of the Glasgow audience in the form of pre-atonal Schoenberg, his 1903 symphonic poem ‘Pelleas und Melisande’.  The concert opened with two 21st-century pieces: the world premiere of Pintscher’s pupil Ricardo Ferro’s ‘[Apsinthos]’, followed by Pintscher’s own 2020 piece ‘Neharot’ (a word meaning both ‘rivers’ and ‘tears’)  The concert was recorded for broadcast on 15th May as ‘Radio 3 in Concert’ and introduced by Kate Molleson.  Associate Leader Kanako Ito was the leader for the evening.  Whilst not exactly buzzing, here was a respectable level of attendance.

Both of the 21st century pieces used a huge orchestra with triple winds, no fewer than 14 first violins and 6 double basses (I’m sure I could see more).  Also 5 percussionists.  Both works were largely atonal, but quite intense in their impact.  Ferro’s programme note explained the intension to convey the idea of ‘falling’, but not programmatically as such.  It achieved this by canonic use of the ‘Shepard tone’, a trick in which the base note of a superposition of harmonics moves, in this case downwards, creating the illusion of an ever-descending scale. Bach’s fabulous ‘Fantasia and fugue in G minor’ achieves much the same by more conventional ingenuity.  Subjectively, it was reminiscent of the scores of many a horror movie, with an underlying sense of dread.  The mastery of orchestration and timbral colour was impressive.  Pintscher’s programme note indicated that his piece was intended as an elegy for those who died from Covid-19 and those left behind to mourn.  There were momentary islands of tonality in the chording and a wealth of timbral colour which gave the music more directness, to my ears at least.  The use of harp harmonics, muted brass, slap bass pizzicato on the double basses, scurrying solos on contrabassoon and oboe, the latter very Messiaen-like, and violas high in their register showed a mastery of texture and held the attention of the listener.  Lyricism in the muted horns was also quite lovely.  Both pieces were finely crafted and benefited from the rapport between conductor/composer and orchestra, with the Ferro impressing with sheer power, while the Pintscher was more overtly expressive with more light and shade.  In truth, however, while I enjoyed hearing both, neither demands, for me at any rate, an opportunity for a second hearing.   Ricardo Ferro was present for the premiere of his piece and came to the stage to acknowledge the applause, thank the leader and orchestra and embrace the conductor.

In the hush after the orchestra had tuned and before Denis Kozhukhin and Matthias Pintscher came to the stage, two quiet but unmissably mischievous quotations from orchestral musicians reminded me why I love this orchestra: the first four notes of Tchaikovsky’s 1st Piano Concerto played on trumpet (rather than horn) were answered by another four from a solo clarinet bridge passage from the first movement of Rachmaninov’s second symphony.  Ragamuffin humour releasing tension – priceless.  Without the memorable big romantic tunes of the 2nd Concerto or the legendary fiendishly difficult virtuosic demands of the 3rd, Rachmaninov’s 4th Piano Concerto has never enjoyed the same popularity.  Yet, dating from 1926 and with editorial changes still being made as late as 1941, it is unmistakably by Rachmaninov, but with a new adventurous and innovative approach to harmony, rhythm and structure influenced by Hindemith, Bartók and jazz.  The enlarged string section was retained for the concerto, with conventional forces for the other sections (plus piccolo and cor anglais).  This gave a fabulously rich ensemble sound.  The outer movements featured a different kind of “conversation” between the soloist and the orchestra, more like jazz riffs passed between soloist and sections than lyrical mutual responsiveness with wind instruments as in the other concerti and also, to some extent, in the slow movement.  As promised, Denis Kozhukhin delivered “breathtaking virtuosity”, but there was also captivating expressiveness and playful consummate artistry, the BBCSSO also very much in their element and clearly relishing the opportunity to work with Matthias Pintscher again.  I expect the Rachmaninov, probably never destined to be many people’s favourite concerto by the composer, will nonetheless have been most audience members’ favourite work of the evening.  It was very well received and the applause prompted a short, simple palate-cleansing encore, not a piece I recognise, but very lovely.

If the orchestra for the modern pieces had been undeniably huge, it was positively gargantuan for the Schoenberg, with 9 horns, quadruple wind, 4 trumpets, 5 trombones plus a tuba and 2 timpanists plus 4 percussionists.  The musical language is chromatic and dense, the mood mostly epic and tragic with a sense of dread.  Hints of Richard Strauss and Scriabin may be detected, while the influence of Wagner is also evident.  I would never deny that the orchestration is masterful and the sound world is intriguing.  But, as to the unveiling of a narrative, I find it rather opaque and have to experience it as pure music.  On those terms, there is much to admire, but the listener will see little change from an investment of three quarters of an hour, in one movement without a break.  A series of well-wrought climaxes may hold the attention of the unbiased listener and indeed I never once zoned out, but I can’t imagine ever loving it.  Frankly, it does go on a bit.  I am very glad to have heard it live and played with such commitment and skill, but it will be some time, if indeed finite, before I seek out another opportunity (if indeed ‘seek’ is the mot juste).  This was Schoenberg’s Op.5.  His Op.21 is ‘Pierrot lunaire’, a masterpiece, both by comparison and by absolute criteria.  ‘Pelleas und Melisande’, not so much.