Both as conductor and pianist, septuagenarian Daniel Barenboim has been more active during the last year of pandemic lockdown than many other musicians who are decades younger. On Saturday evening, he replaced Finnish conductor Mikko Franck at very short notice at the helm of the Berlin Philharmonic. Barenboim's long relationship with the orchestra is truly special and he claimed, in the interview accompanying the stream, that he felt helping out was “part of his responsibility”. (Barenboim was named the first honorary conductor of the orchestra in 2019.) Not having conducted the Sibelius' Fifth Symphony for 25 years, he replaced it – not unreasonably – with Brahms' First. The scope of a programme meant to explore Sibelius’ connections to Brahms was thus shifted to a comparison between the material for Brahms’ discarded first symphony (that became his Piano Concerto no. 1) and the First Symphony proper, finished two decades later.
Yefim Bronfman has played Brahms’ D minor concerto innumerable times. It is a score that is well suited for his brand of pianism, with an enormous range of sound going from huge chords draped in velvet to delicate cobwebs with the strength of steel. His performance was honest, with expressive phrasing, and in accord with the intentions of the conductor and the orchestra. Similar to other masterpieces fully ingrained in today’s concert life, it is difficult to comprehend the shock listeners must have felt at the concerto’s Hamburg premiere. How disturbing must have been the cataclysmic opening gestures – with timpani and strings in their search for direction – repeated after a brief lyrical intermezzo, and followed by the piano entering from nowhere with a new motif and only gradually bringing along reminiscences of the beginning. There were multiple remarkable moments in the massive first movement’s rendition: Bronfman playing without any bombast the poco più moderato solo passage that starts by sounding like a chorale; his delicate accompaniment of the solo horn (Stefan Dohr) followed by roaring octaves; Barenboim’s effort to balance visions of tragic spectres and moments of respite. Often considered as a portrait of Clara Schumann and the young composer’s confused sentiments for her, the Adagio, with its serene dialogue between strings and woodwinds, had true gravitas. Bronfman’s playing seemed to convey a noble resignation, later denied by awakening trills and a superb transition to the more ebullient Finale, interpreted with wonderful articulation and musicality.