In his return to the helm of the New York Philharmonic, Finnish conductor Santtu-Matias Rouvali presented a programme that bridged the seemingly competing yet complementary worlds of Prokofiev and Shostakovich. Both composers, deeply rooted in the Russian tradition, responded to the challenges of 20th-century modernism and Soviet pressures with distinct blends of wit, bitterness and defiance. Rouvali’s interpretation vividly illuminated the contrast between Prokofiev’s playful irreverence and Shostakovich’s brooding intensity.
Following a well-received all-Ravel recital recently at Carnegie Hall, Seong-Jin Cho brought both technical brilliance and refined emotional depth to Prokofiev’s Piano Concerto no. 2 in G minor. His performance balanced youthful exuberance with reflective depth, capturing with remarkable finesse the evolution of a concerto conceived in the composer’s early twenties and reconstructed more than a decade later. Cho’s commanding touch infused the extended cadenzas with fresh spontaneity, shaping each moment with fluid, effortless precision. In a finely controlled dialogue with Rouvali and the orchestra, every intricate passage unfolded with incisive articulation and careful phrasing. Balancing stormy bursts of energy with lyricism tinged with introspection, his interpretation – at times touched by froideur – subtly echoed Ravel’s neoclassicism.
The second half of the concert was devoted to Shostakovich’s Symphony no. 15, his final work. Conceived amid illness and premonitions of death, and replete with unanswered questions, it remains unmatched in its ability to emulate Mahler’s conviction that a symphony must encompass the vastness of the entire world.
Although the boundary between public declaration and private truth remains elusive, Shostakovich’s music continuously negotiates a delicate yet tensioned balance between outward appearance and the inner convictions it might conceal. In their rendition, Rouvali and the New York Philharmonic delivered a performance in which the syntax – the precise, meticulously calibrated construction of a series of interconnected soundscapes – was nearly faultless. From the delicately nonchalant opening, featuring flute, glockenspiel, and pizzicato strings, to the inexorable, percussive tick-tock punctuating the finale, the interplay between strings and winds was carefully sculpted. The solo interventions, such as cellist Matthew Christakos’ poignant lament in the second movement, were delivered with clear intent, while quotations from Rossini, Wagner and Shostakovich himself were faithfully rendered, drawing attention to their presence without overwhelming the overall texture.