At the Seoul Arts Center, the Berliner Philharmoniker’s Asian tour under Kirill Petrenko reaffirmed the orchestra’s renown. Precision of ensemble, sharp attack, and phrasing defined the evening. Schumann’s Manfred Overture opened with taut suspense: strings voiced tightly woven harmony while low woodwinds added weight. The climax rose quickly and closed cleanly, clearing the way for what followed.
In Schumann’s Piano Concerto in A minor, Sunwook Kim transferred his experience as a conductor to the keyboard. Rather than pushing himself forward, he listened across the orchestra and steered the balance. Earlier Schumann showed academic rigor; now a freer breath sat over it. In the first movement the oboe set out the theme, the piano replied softly and the dialogue held its course. Kim restrained the pedal so inner parts could circulate, and at times leaned slightly behind the beat to frame a phrase. His line never lost focus and a mild tension lingered between soloist and orchestra. When the piano yielded space, the winds filled it with a soft glow. The cadenza served the argument and the closing, with its march profile, gathered itself naturally.
The Intermezzo was affectionate. Cello and piano spoke at chamber scale, the keyboard shining like a narrow, lucid thread. Even when Schumann’s syncopations in the finale tugged at the surface, ensemble did not drift. A firm basic pulse made the displacements legible. Some staccatos were purposely short and Kim treated Schumann’s written breaths and silences as shared property, braiding them with the orchestra in tacit collusion. It was an approach near the ideal of the concerto.
Brahms’ First Symphony was overwhelming from the first note. The strings filled the hall; timpani swelled by degrees, as though drawing up the audience’s heartbeat. Petrenko did not press the old gesture of struggle into heaviness, separating lines so that the counterpoint emerged naturally. The first violins’ leaping figure was keen, the low strings carried ballast. Passing into the exposition, the tempo tilted slightly forward without loss of control. Winds blended evenly, the horn traced a soft harmonic contour. In the development section, Petrenko tightened by density rather than volume; parts stayed lucid, and the climax arrived as structure, not noise.
The second movement stepped into gentler light, oboe and clarinet singing with restraint, the horn kept to a support role; warmth without indulgence. Chorale‑like horn lines lay over cushioned strings, calm holding depth. The third movement moved with elegant ease. Winds and strings shared the line without display, dynamics held in check.
Before the third movement’s afterglow had faded, the finale’s introduction began. From dark low strings, the Alphorn line sounded not as a distant signal but as a noble resonance saturated with space. Emmanuel Pahud’s flute answered with comparable presence, completing the grandeur. When the principal theme appeared, the strings favoured an unhurried tempo and supple legato, shaping a reflective air. Energy condensed toward the recapitulation and released in a majestic final detonation. This Brahms revealed a German tradition reaching back to the Meiningen Court Orchestra: structural clarity joined to flexible tempo, meticulous preparation yielding natural musical breath. Traditional rather than historically driven or aggressively modern, this reading reached a finish likely to convince even listeners who prefer other approaches.
