Making their BBC Proms debut, it was difficult to know what to expect from the Chinese Philharmonic Orchestra. Formed in 2000, they are considerably newer than their European and American counterparts. They still have some way to go in finding their own sound, and their playing sometimes verges on the timid. It was only after the entrance of a charismatic soloist, in the form of pianist Haochen Zhang, was the orchestra able to come out of its shell.
The evening’s jumbled programme did nothing to aid matters. Elgar’s five-minute Pomp and Circumstance March no. 4 felt unnecessary, especially given the difficulty the CPO and their conductor, Long Yu, had with switching from the grandiosity of the March to the romanticism of Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet. Though Elgar opened with an immediately warm sound, Yu failed to escape the danger of march-music: falling into autopilot. It was the onward momentum of the march that kept it going, rather than the conductor. It resulted in a performance lacking in dynamic contrast, which failed to capture the excitement of the progressing march.
Yu was still in march-mode in Romeo and Juliet. His conducting was distracting: by giving every beat I could not escape counting along 1-2-3-4 in my head – not exactly what Tchaikovsky’s fluid opening demands. The winds were noticeably weak too. At the first arrival of the famous love-theme, they were unprepared with some issues in tuning. Instead of being a revelation, the love-theme was understated and nervous. Nevertheless, the orchestra improved as the work progressed. In subsequent statements of the love-theme, they succeeded in portraying the underlying tragedy in Shakespeare’s play. The performance had its lovely moments, but it lacked an overall sense of a journey. The love-theme should be an achievement, but Yu and the CPO seemed uncertain of where they were heading.
The entrance of the 24 year-old pianist, Haochen Zhang marked a turning point in the evening. His youthfulness was striking, and the stage looking too big for him, but the piano certainly was not. Zhang’s technique in Liszt’s Piano Concerto no. 1 in E flat major was flawless. His playing was effortless, without strain or tension. I had not realised what a pleasure (or relief) it would be to witness a soloist with whom I was confident that there would be no slips. Though Liszt demands a high level of virtuosity, Zhang avoided flamboyant gestures or distracting showmanship. His immaculate playing was enough. Liszt’s concerto is mostly a virtuosic showpiece, but the nocturne-like passage that opens the slow movement gave a glimpse at the pianist’s thoughtful side. His playing was delicate and considered: he was prepared to give every note its full expression. By the work’s finale, Zhang’s vibrant confidence had rubbed off onto the orchestra, as they finally began to revel in their own sound.