The Belgrade Philharmonic Orchestra is celebrating its centenary season with an intriguing series of concerts of familiar and unfamiliar music. It gave its inaugural concert on 13th June 1923. Its founder, artistic director and chief conductor was Stevan Hrstić who was himself a significant composer. Some of his works have remained in the repertoire, at least in Serbia, but for this evening’s concert we had a very little-known piece of his, Na selu or In the Countryside. It was originally intended to be the first movement of a symphony which was never completed. It was first performed in 1937 and seems to have had eight more performances between 1940 and 1962 but then disappeared.
Under the baton of Jaume Santonja it proved to be an attractive piece well worth reviving. An evocative oboe solo led us into an atmospheric pastoral scene, which became more dramatic here and there. It was firmly rooted in the traditions of the 19th century and might have seemed old-fashioned at the time of its premiere but now such things matter less. I hope to have the opportunity to hear it again, along with more of Hrstić's compositions.
The real highlight of the concert was the performance of Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto no. 4 in G minor with pianist Denis Kozhukhin. This is the least played of Rachmaninov’s concertos but this committed and enthusiastic performance convinced me that it is at least the equal of the Second and Third. True, it does not have the memorable “big tunes” of its predecessors, but it does offer occasions for virtuoso display, extremes of excitement and intensity of feeling that have made Rachmaninov a favourite among audiences and pianists.
Moreover, the orchestral harmonies in this concerto have some unexpectedly jazzy touches making for a rich sound. Kozhukhin clearly had a close rapport with conductor and orchestra and seems to be a larger-than-life, extrovert character. His playing was exceptionally demonstrative, seeming to be playing not just with his hands but with his whole body, often leaping off his stool in the louder passages. Kozhukhin shaped the torrents of notes into something that always made sense and moved the music forward rather than being display for its own sake. The quieter, more reflective passages, such as in the central Largo became very gentle. The finale was as exhilarating as any concerto playing I have heard. Afterwards, Kozhukhin brought us down to earth with a Tchaikovsky encore.
In contrast, the second half felt less exciting. We had substantial excerpts from Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet ballet lasting about 45 minutes. This was much more familiar music and packed with memorable melodies. Perhaps it was the episodic nature of the music which works so well in the theatre, in contrast with the tautly constructed Rachmaninov, that made it feel just a little unsatisfactory. The orchestra took their many opportunities for individual display with gusto and there was some very atmospheric playing. By the end we could be in no doubt as to the tragedy of the piece. It would be invidious to pick out any individual performers in this fine orchestra.
