Piano performances of Bach’s keyboard concertos are becoming rarer these days, but are by no means out of the question knowing Bach’s own propensity for arranging his series of concertos for different instruments. Bach specialist David Fray joined the Auckland Philharmonia Orchestra in two of these concertos, with the monumental Ninth Symphony of Bruckner filling out the programme. Karl-Heinz Steffens stepped in as a late replacement for conductor Johannes Fritzsch, who withdrew following an injury.
Fray offered an overly wilful interpretation that more often obscured rather than enhanced Bach’s magnificent music. Starting off with the F minor concerto, BWV1056, Fray showed a nice lightness of touch, but the clarity was often compromised by over-reliance on the sustain pedal. Heavy on excessive rubato, it also felt like Fray was often rushing, trying to push ahead of Steffens’ tempo. The APO provided a small ripieno group to accompany him, which they largely did with sensitivity. The Largo is one of surpassing beauty, and Fray received really lovely support, especially from the strings. His work combined moments of ethereal beauty with mannered sudden dynamic changes. The Rondo had some amusing interplay between soloist and orchestra, playing up the dance-like elements but again, the use of pedal and self-regarding ornamentation blemished the effect.
The A major concerto, BWV1055, had a pleasantly peppy opening, but Fray soon fell into the same traps. The nadir was a really po-faced account of the slow movement, with individual notes pecked at in a way that seemed neither musical nor gratifying. Overall, Fray’s Bach told us more about the pianist than the composer and made for an at-times beautiful but mostly frustrating experience.
Fortunately, the second half of the concert was more pleasing. Steffens had his work cut out as a late replacement conductor, but he showed a firm grasp on the piece. Though a number of attempts at completing the work have been made by later composers, this performance took the standard practice of playing only the three movements that Bruckner completed. After the primal feel of the opening, Steffens really brought out the spacious majesty of the first movement, managing to continue to maintain tension across its broad length without ever sacrificing shape and cohesion.
Bruckner’s series of climaxes developed logically, in which each seemed to lead inexorably towards the next. Soaring strings made a fine effect in the expansive melody of the second subject and the solo oboe playing was often transcendentally beautiful. Maybe the orchestra could have used more depth of sound, particularly in the final pages with their undulating strings and glorious blazing trumpets. They were closer to ideal in the pizzicato strings and vivacious wind figures in the opening of the Scherzo, giving it a suitably rambunctious quality. Consistently precise in articulation in the swift staccato passages, the strings also assisted Steffens in bringing a touch of Mendelssohn to the lively Trio section.
Steffens kept a strong architectural logic in the first two movements, but the third was less cohesive. Despite its very disparate elements, this music should suggest inevitability even as it moves through unexpected keys and introduces unanticipated new themes. Nevertheless, there were many dazzling moments, from the bizarre, anxious minor-ninth leap that opens the movement. The playing itself was beautiful, including some magnificent vocalising of trumpets and horns over the rest of the orchestra. Despite some small inaccuracies, the brass playing was always spirited. Steffens offered a satisfying build-up over the last several minutes of the work, leading to a suitably uplifting conclusion.
