Sergei Rachmaninov is likely the favourite composer among concert-goers in Singapore. Not even Tchaikovsky has the same draw as his younger compatriot. Two pairs of concerts by the Singapore Symphony commemorating Rachmaninov’s 150th anniversary, each with a piano concerto and symphony, were filled to the rafters. If the tandem of Second Piano Concerto and Symphony last week proved a hit, sadly this one with two “Thirds” lagged some distance behind.
South Korean pianist Jae-Hyuck Cho is not a household name, certainly far less known than Garrick Ohlsson from the previous concert, but proved he had the chops required for the Third Piano Concerto. His perfomance, conducted by Hans Graf, was satisfying because it occupied the Goldilocks zone: not too fast, not too slow, just about right for all tastes. While not being middle-of-the-road, it was free of idiosyncrasy, with none of the preening and posturing of which many young keyboard wizards are guilty. He knows how to project and made the music sing. Consistent with a lack of ostentation, he also chose the shorter, leaner and more mercurial first movement cadenza less often heard these days. He was in good company, as this was the version Rachmaninov and Horowitz themselves played and recorded.
The orchestra brooded in the Intermezzo’s opening, setting the stage for some emotive playing from Cho, culminating in the scintillation of a whimsical waltz sequence before launching headlong into the Alla breve finale. From here, it was a white-knuckle ride to the concerto's pulsating, breathless end. Credit goes to all for not making any excisions. An enjoyable performance, made all the more memorable by Cho’s unusual encore, his own transcription of Philadelphia-born composer Albert Hay Malotte’s The Lord’s Prayer cast in D flat major (shades of that 18th Paganini variation), much in the chordal style of Rachmaninov himself.
Occupying the concert’s second half was the Symphony no. 3 in A minor, a work which lives in the shadow of the Second Symphony. Despite being two thirds its length and possessing the same melancolic quality and textural opulence as its predecessor, its shortcomings stood out. The paucity of gushing melodies was one. Rachmaninov’s overarching nostalgia and struggles coming to grips with 20th-century modernity (this was 1936 after all) left him an anachronism. Attempts at dissonance and grittiness in the first movement development, though well-handled by the orchestra, would pale heard alongside Stravinsky, Prokofiev and Shostakovich.
The second movement attempts something daring, by interpolating a martial Scherzo-like sequence into its pages, but it was the yearning – encapsulated by guest concertmaster Andrew Haveron’s excellent solos – that lingered in the memory. By far the weakest movement is the finale, which began promisingly but soon peters out with a lack of thematic inspirations and ideas. What recourse was there? Throw in a furious fugato. Check. Then play around with the Dies irae chant theme. Check. Balance all this with a slow and reflective segment. Check. Give the solo flute extra work to do before a hasty coda and the requisite big bang to close. Little wonder the applause was less vociferous than for the concerto or last week’s performances. The SSO musicians, who did their jobs well, were not culpable, so perhaps the blame fall on Rachmaninov himself?
