Devoted to preserving and promoting the legacy of Antonín Dvořák, the Dvořák’s Prague festival wasted no time this year broadening its scope and musical palette. After an all-Dvořák opener, the second concert paired the Tonhalle-Orchester Zürich with local star Ivo Kahánek for a program of Beethoven and Bruckner. A native Moravian, Kahánek has an almost magical touch with the Czech repertoire that has won him both critical and popular acclaim. But local audiences seldom get to hear him venture into the wider repertoire. And for any pianist, Beethoven’s iconic Piano Concerto no. 3 in C minor presents a formidable challenge.
So it was a treat to hear both the soloist and orchestra not just render the complexities of the piece in fine detail, but to make it their own. With Paavo Järvi on the podium, the orchestra offered a measured, elegant reading that carefully balanced richness and restraint. At the keyboard, Kahánek combined supple technical skills with a broad emotional range to give the piece a distinctive voice and flavor.
Kahánek’s strength is a natural lyricism, more romantic than classical, that tends to illuminate whatever he plays. In this case it warmed up the piece, making it less overwhelming and more accessible. There was no lack of fire in the runs up and down the keyboard, especially in the first movement cadenza, nor alacrity in a fast-paced finale. But the chief quality of his playing was a rare depth of feeling, an evocation of powerful emotions and subtle nuances all held together by a flowing legato style.
After an uneven start, the orchestra and pianist merged into a smooth fit midway through the first movement that blossomed into a resplendent Largo, with the music unfolding in delicate, gossamer threads. Järvi showed a deft touch crafting a compact but full-blooded sound, and was particularly adept at creating atmospheric dynamics that took the music from refined to robust. His control never seemed acute or forced, but the sterling balance in the sound throughout the evening displayed a master technician at work.
And the hometown audience got a gift from Kahánek in the form of two encores. He played straight from the heart in a dazzling, unabashedly romantic rendition of Chopin’s Fantaisie-Impromptu, then cut loose with a jaunty treatment of the Dupák from Martinů’s Three Czech Dances, highlighting the colorful jazz influences from the composer’s time in Paris.
A larger version of the orchestra took the stage for Bruckner’s stentorian Ninth Symphony, which in this performance sounded exactly like what it is – the composer confronting God and the meaning of life and death. Järvi did not skimp on the drama, or the volume, but showed impressive command in keeping the sound clean and taut without going over the top and letting it explode. Even the insistent hammering in the second movement had fine gradations, particularly in his use of the brass. Amid the clamor, the woodwinds added notably light, animated colors.
Now in his fifth year as Music Director, Järvi has achieved a remarkable alchemy with the orchestra. His control is absolute, but the music never sounds that way. Instead, it sounds spontaneous, crisp and fresh as wet ink on a score. This is a point of pride among the players, who like to boast that no two concerts are ever alike. For Dvořák devotees, this concert had the same spirit – a Czech take on a masterwork of the piano repertoire, and smart, insightful treatment of a symphony by a contemporary who shared some of Dvořák’s spiritual struggles. The sense of discovery was beguiling.
