The Philharmonia Orchestra had originally planned for Evgeny Kissin to perform not one concerto but three as part of their 80th birthday celebrations. That was then cut to just two concertos, but sadly, ‘twas not to be, as Kissin had to withdraw altogether. Thankfully, Boris Giltburg stepped up to the plate to play two different concertos: Prokofiev’s Third and Rachmaninov’s Second. The other programmed works of this all-Russian affair remained: Mussorgsky’s A Night on the Bare Mountain, arranged by Rimsky-Korsakov, and Rachmaninov’s The Rock.
Second violinist Julian Milone gave a brief but fitting opening speech in honour of the Philharmonia’s 80th birthday, revealing that he himself has been with the orchestra for over forty years. Then the Mussorgsky set off with instant attack, followed by precise articulation from the oboe and bassoon. 84-year-old conductor Lawrence Foster’s progress to and from the podium was clearly a challenge, and several front desk players hovered anxiously until he was safely installed on the chair. However, he conducted with assurance and authority, and his beat was crystal clear, eliciting tight martial brass and effortlessly judged acceleration from the bassoons. In contrast, the conclusion, with the tolling bell, had tenderness from the muted violins and great control from the brass, setting up nicely for the delicate clarinet and flute solos, ending a strongly assured opening work. Similarly, starting the second half, the orchestra’s rendition of Rachmaninov’s atmospheric The Rock was solidly confident, from the opening dark rumblings from the lower strings to the sprightly flute and clarinet answering the calling horn. Foster ensured that all the expressive detail came to the fore here, before ratcheting up the passion for the climax.
Prokofiev’s Piano Concerto no. 3 is full of virtuosic, brittle writing but also moments of high lyricism, requiring both technical command and sensitivity. Giltburg’s Prokofiev was more expressive than many readings, but without overt showy movements and a steely focus on the virtuosic detail, as well as effortlessly understated lyricism in the opening movement. In the nocturnal fourth variation of the middle movement, the piano was atmospherically shadowy against the horn and muted strings. The third movement bounded off at a healthy pace, and even at the orchestra’s wildest moments, Foster ensured that the balance allowed Giltburg to rise out of the texture. Giltburg also knew when to back off, so that his expressive counterwork and cascading scales in the finale complemented rather than competed with the full throttle cellos, and then rang out bell-like in the wild waltzing finish.
Giltburg’s Rachmaninov followed the same pattern in many ways. His was not the biggest sound, and despite the concerto’s familiarity and obvious heart-on-sleeve Romanticism, he always ensured it wasn’t purely a piano showpiece. Together with Giltburg, Foster and the orchestra brought out Rachmaninov’s often underestimated orchestral writing here. The violas were allowed to shine in the second movement, and the finale’s fugal writing felt much more of a joint effort than usual. Having said which, the big moments had full impact, precisely because Giltburg kept a lid on things elsewhere. The final climax was electric as a result, the pianist’s power still with the orchestra rather than against it. Giltburg still had something left to give, with an enchanting rendition of Rachmaninov’s arrangement of Kreisler’s Liebesleid to finish the night, much to the delight of the almost sold-out Royal Festival Hall crowd.
