For its ‘Pinnacle’ programme, the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra and Italian conductor Umberto Clerici offered a vivid view of Rome via Berlioz and Respighi in its first half, but reached its true summit in a staggering performance of Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto no. 3 in D minor with astonishing soloist Daniil Trifonov. The first half of the programme opened with Le Carnaval romain, Berlioz’ re-arrangement of themes from his failed opera Benvenuto Cellini. Cellini’s first-act aria appeared in the form of a sumptuous cor anglais solo, gorgeously shaped before passing onto the cello and then blooming into a rich string canon. Clerici brought exhilarating precision and energy to the festive elements of the piece, and the orchestra reached his level in their virtuosity and clarity, with exhilarating woodwind runs and a joyous percussion-filled ending.
The Roman theme continued with Respighi’s celebrated tone poem, Fontane di Roma. In this, four Roman fountains are described musically at specific times of day, and these were well-delineated under Clerici’s leadership. A warm but mysterious pastoral mood conveyed the Valle Giulia at dawn and this was thrilling contrasted with the depiction of the Triton Fountain, flashing horns and sparkling passagework from the orchestra bringing a wild dance-like feel to the nymphs cavorting. Grandeur was the order of the day in the movement portraying the famous Trevi Fountain. Finally, the work concluded with a hauntingly serene sunset at Villa Medici, fading away to the delicate sound of bells. Respighi’s work thrives on those who can tease different colours from the orchestra and this was masterfully achieved here.
As wonderfully evocative as the Berlioz and Respighi were, they were just tasters for the centerpiece of the evening: Rachmaninov’s Third Piano Concerto, performed by acclaimed pianist Daniil Trifonov. It was a rare display of technical command and musical artistry that Trifonov presented, transcending mere virtuosity to offer a performance of stunning beauty, musicality and a very personal intensity. From the opening bars, Trifonov’s playing was both finely etched and deeply expressive. He exhibited a sublime beauty of tone at all dynamic levels, with particularly ravishing lyricism in hushed moments. Notable was the lyrical second subject of the first movement, where his elegant phrasing and quite a distinctive sense of rubato unlocked the music’s poetry. No repetition of melody unfolded in quite the same way, but this rubato or phrasing was never self-regarding; it always seemed part of a greater musical interpretation. He was also never afraid to unleash a raw, almost violent intensity. The Herculean cadenza of the first movement was delivered with command, Trifonov expertly navigating its daunting challenges while never losing sight of its dramatic shape.