In Rachmaninov’s 150th anniversary year, pianist Nikolai Lugansky was a natural fit for Vasily Petrenko and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra’s first Icons Rediscovered concert. The series centres on Rachmaninov and Elgar, and will take a fresh look at overfamiliar “iconic” works. What better example than Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto no. 2 in C minor, enduringly popular, and widely used in film and song?
Yet tonight Lugansky reminded us precisely why this concerto is so iconic. An overwhelming bundle of infectious melody, virtuosic ebullience and heart-on-sleeve Romanticism, nonetheless there is complexity and artful construction too. Hearing Lugansky performing solo Rachmaninov earlier this year, it was his ability to bring out the lyricism from within even the densest of textures that impressed most. Tonight, in the first movement his percussive projection cut through the thick orchestral textures, yet this never felt aggressive, just assuredly assertive. Even when taking a back seat with rippling figuration, the balance was perfect, with merit also due to Petrenko for constant attention to orchestral dynamics.
Following the oboe and cellos’ second subject, Petrenko kept the orchestra at pianissimo, only allowing them to blossom along with the piano. Lugansky’s touch was particularly heartrending in the slow movement, supported by beautifully tender flute and clarinet solos. The finale had all the right virtuosic fireworks, with an incredibly fast fugal exchange between strings and soloist dangerously risking but never losing ensemble. Following jaw-dropping flourishes from Lugansky, the final full-blooded statement was triumphantly glorious. Lugansky followed with an effortlessly rippling rendition of the Prelude in G sharp minor, Op.32 no.12, once again delivering drama and emotion without ever resorting to unnecessary weight.
Earlier, Petrenko began with brief words, highlighting both Rachmaninov and Elgar’s struggles to overcome early criticism and the pressure of expectation. This idea of failure and triumph was his connect to Lera Auerbach’s Icarus, exploring the myth of Icarus famously failing to reach the sun using his father Daedalus’ creation of gigantic wings. Icarus came close to triumph, almost reaching his destination, but ultimately, getting too close resulted in tragic failure. In just 12 minutes, Auerbach packs in the drama, opening with slapping basses and racing cellos, then propelling us through Icarus’ dramatic rise and ultimate fall. Textures along the way include ethereal harps and celesta, shimmering violins and varied percussion, against dramatic war-like brass. Only the woodwind are sparsely deployed. But the star of the show, not immediately obvious, tucked away at the back of the stage, was Lydia Kavina on theremin, its eery, otherworldly presence gaining increasing presence, building to its terrifying fall through several octaves.
The evening ended with a powerfully spirited rendition of Elgar’s First Symphony. Again, Petrenko invited us to look again at a familiar giant, and his grasp on its rich and lavish orchestration was evident right from the opening build to the noble theme’s first tutti rendition. Petrenko used big gestures to elicit a lush string sound, but quickly ensured they subsided to nothing, making the Allegro’s sudden impetus of energy all the more exciting. He consistently maintained a sense of propulsion through the rapid string skirmishes and fragments of the theme emerging through the textures from horns, clarinets and back desk strings. Petrenko took no prisoners with an incredibly quick second movement; the RPO ensemble was highly impressive here. There was a full-hearted expression of the slow movement’s lyrical melody, but the finale again had that sense of urgency and forward trajectory, building inexorably to the big tune, with its sea-sick swells of accompaniment, bringing the work to a fittingly triumphant conclusion.
