Two days after his stimulating solo recital, Lang Lang returned to the Concert Hall of the Sydney Opera House; this time as the soloist in Edvard Grieg’s Piano Concerto in A minor, accompanied by the Sydney Symphony Orchestra. The first half of the concert started with another Grieg composition, the Peer Gynt Suite no. 1. Although Henrik Ibsen’s drama by the same title is rarely played today, the incidental music that Grieg composed for it, and the two Suites in particular, became some of the most loved orchestral works of all times.
The SSO invited the young Venezuelan conductor, Manuel López-Gómez to be in charge of this concert. He shaped Grieg’s popular melodies with elegant ease; the opening Morning Mood movement sounded both serene and mellow, and the last movement’s extended acceleration marched ahead irrevocably. However, I did not notice any apparent effort from the conductor to rise above the well-tried conventions of this work and thus Anitra’s dance became agreeably pleasant rather than having a genuine dancing energy, and the Death of Åse, played by the strings section of the orchestra only, sounded more subdued than mournful. López-Gómez reacted to the slow tempo and overall gentleness of this movement with a certain softness of his beat, which seemed to deprive it of some of the necessary precision. I hasten to add that this was hardly noticeable; nonetheless, it created an occasional delay between his beat and the string players’ change of bows, which in turn resulted in a few minor ensemble problems.
Remarkably, López-Gómez conducted without a score both Grieg’s and the next work, Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s Francesca da Rimini (composed only a few years after Peer Gynt). The conductor’s thorough understanding of all details of the music was impressive, as was his choice of tempi appropriate and his movements elegant, while he commanded the orchestra through the many syncopated rhythms of the introduction. I wished though for more evidence of an individual concept in his music making. While his hands did an excellent job in keeping time and the flow of the music, apart from the occasional shaking of the left fist, he seldom indicated changes of emotions, spontaneous musical ideas or passion – a sentiment that abounds in Tchaikovsky’s music. It may not have been entirely the orchestra’s fault therefore, that some of the heart-warming moments of this music felt less than uplifting; for example, the otherwise beautifully played clarinet solo at the Andante cantabile section or only a few minutes later, the usually exalted grand cello melody, here short on energy and purpose.