Preceded by Berlioz’ overture Le Corsaire and followed by Rimsky-Korsakov's Scheherazade, Alice Sara Ott and the Philharmonia performed the UK debut of a new piano concerto by US composer and The National guitarist Bryce Dessner. Written for Ott and composed in honour of his sister, a choreographer and dancer who is fighting cancer, Dessner’s concerto is divided into three sections: How to Dance, How to Breathe and How to Feel.
Under the tightly-controlled baton of Elim Chan, it’s an exciting concerto and Ott dazzled. Opening with undertones of Baroque dance and a lightness, How to Dance introduces a series of themes that recur through the piece as the concerto builds in constant movement to a powerful finish. How to Breathe has a filmic quality as the string section provides a repetitive sense of time moving while the piano rolls through repeated motifs over the top, Einaudi over Hans Zimmer. The rushing rhythms give the section a sense of storytelling as it moves to a thunderous conclusion, although occasionally it lacks variety as the motifs keep recurring.
How to Feel brings in calmness again, before eventually rising to a moving end. This section in particular could use tightening: in such a charged and relatively short (20 minutes) concerto, it felt like a piece of multiple endings, with too much indecision.
Ott and Chan are two artists to follow intently, with a real gift for storytelling. Barefoot and entirely emotionally engaged, Ott is a moving performer. Her playing was clean, neat and gentle, with a laughing quality in the lighter moments and high energy as the concerto gained in rhythm. She seemed equally comfortable in sections that require a tender and minimalist hand as in the fiercely fiddly decorations of other sections.
Under Chan’s extremely watchable conducting, the Philharmonia was responsive to her every move: economical and precise in her instructions to riproaring effect. The Corsaire was thrillingly paced to swashbuckling effect, the Philharmonia stampeding with accuracy through the wildness of Berlioz’ work.
By this point it was predictable that the epic Scheherezade would be lavishly gorgeous in the hands of Chan and the Philharmonia. It was indeed emotive and rousing, the violin solos beguiling and plaintive and the ensemble moments powerful, through violence and fantasy.
