The final bars of Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade consist of the most delicate of pianissimi chords – ethereal threads of sound capped off by two small plucks of the strings. If one had simply heard these final bars alone, it would be difficult to guess all that had transpired just moments before, with some of the most powerful, luscious and Romantic of symphonic orchestral writing in the entire repertoire. And yet, it is this quietest of endings, which completes the full circle of the piece that commences with Scheherazade’s narration, that speaks the most volumes as to the brilliance of the work. To be able to balance such delicacy with utter fortitude and power requires no small degree of virtuosity. It is very often the case that we, the audience, forget – or perhaps, take for granted – the extreme preparation and technique that is undoubtedly required for pieces such as Scheherazade. And so, with this piece and Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto no. 3 in D minor – two cornerstones of Russian Romanticism – on the program, we were all duly reminded how fortunate it is to witness such music-making live in performance, with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra under Leonard Slatkin at the Ravinia Festival.
In the natural ambiance of a comfortable summer evening, surrounded by a cacophony of cicadas, the concert immediately proceeded with Rachmaninov’s titanic work, which has garnered the reputation of being one of the most difficult pieces in the repertoire. Denis Matsuev, winner of the 1998 Tchaikovsky Competition, is no stranger to this concerto. He dazzled with his effortless attacks of Rachmaninov’s extraordinarily complex technical writing, filled with a multitude of rapidly ascending and descending triplet figurations and octave-spanning chords, all with sforzandi and fortississimo markings. The varied vantage points of cameras positioned throughout the stage, accompanied by two large screens, offered a unique perspective, especially of his virtuosic handling of the famous chordal “ossia” cadenza, the most commonly performed of the two cadenzas Rachmaninov wrote for the concerto. While digital displays of this size may sometimes prove to be distracting from the ideally immersive auditory experience, in this case, it helped to provide valuable insight as to the necessary speed and technique required for this immense work.
Despite Matsuev’s characteristic display of sheer strength and intensity – without discounting technical bravura, of course – one also finds that his playing contains the essential expressive qualities that convey the pure musicality of the piece. The leggerezza, or lightness, of his touch in the most delicate and dolce of sections, such as in the beautiful interplay between him and William Buchman on bassoon, Daniel Gingrich on French horn, and William Welter on oboe within the first movement, or his flowing, cantabile approach to the haunting, soulful phrases, particularly within the second Intermezzo movement, were rapturous. And all of this momentum built up to the glorious, climactic coda of the third movement – the absolute summit of the monumental piece – which Matsuev, Slatkin and the orchestra handled beautifully with total coordination between soloist and ensemble.