There has been a profusion of concerts this year with programmes featuring works by Jean Sibelius and Carl Nielsen, no doubt due to musical directors succumbing to the notion that a milestone anniversary of a composer’s birth is significant. This concert, however, had a third dimension with the inclusion of Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto no. 3 in D minor. Born in 1873, just eight years after Sibelius and Nielson, he was very much their musical contemporary. The great skill of conductor Cristian Măcelaru was to demonstrate just how different this generation were from each other in approach, style and orchestration.
The programme ran from the most familiar to the least, beginning with Jean Sibelius’ celebrated nationalist symphonic poem Finlandia. Despite being such a well known work, the perfectly weighted brass choir of tuba, trombones and horns exuded such tremendously warm and deeply resonant tones in the opening chords, that the audience was immediately drawn into the atmosphere of the piece. Măcelaru maintained a healthy balance between the sections and was clearly in command as the music built with the CBSO strings in particularly good form. In an otherwise faultless performance I felt the pianissimo section associated with the hymn “Be Still My Soul” was a tad too heavy and an opportunity to maximise contrast was not fully exploited. However, Măcelaru continued to build on the pressure and intensity. With the help of lightning crisp staccato punctuation from the trumpets and a thunderous underpinning from the tuba, he was able to brew up a truly tempestuous climax.
The central focus of the evening was not the post-interval symphony, but the first-half concerto. Simon Trpčeski walked out onto the stage with an air of supreme confidence. It was clear before a single note was played that he was here to enjoy himself, and through his composure he forged a connection with the audience that relaxed the hall even while he adjusted his stool. Sympathetically supported by the orchestra, his first notes teased the ear, hinting the theme, seducing the audience to fully engage with the music. Rachmaninov is famous for his long flowing lyrical lines and they require some deep interpretation to make them come off. As a virtuoso pianist himself, he was renowned for the exceptional technical demands of his compositions. Trpčeski was equal to both the musicality and the technique required, his fingers whirling, hammering, tickling, skipping and skating over the keyboard at his whim. The CBSO accompanied with some lush romantic strings. There were moments, however, where I felt they slightly overpowered the soloist. Nonetheless, I was able to immerse myself in the sheer joyous drama of the piece, so well played by Trpčeski, and by the conclusion I was quite elated.