The Munich Philharmonic has not visited Carnegie Hall since 2019, when Valery Gergiev was still its Chief Conductor. In the interregnum waiting for Lahav Shani to take over the reins, the orchestra has not stopped its touring activities, inviting the esteemed Zubin Mehta, its Honorary Conductor since 2004, to helm two all-Brahms programmes at Carnegie Hall.
Historically, Mehta’s performances have spanned a wide spectrum, varying from brilliant to superficial, imaginative to random, meticulously managed to episodic. His energy level, however, was never in doubt. Now 87, moving with difficulty, conducting while seated, with precise gestures reduced to the essential, his vitality seemed as great as ever. After many decades of conducting Brahms, Mehta’s interpretations, have achieved, as proven on Saturday night, a remarkable balance between a wholesome approach to the score and attention to individual details. The composer’s intricate harmonies and rich melodies were deeply and expertly chiselled on a monumental bas-relief of great structural integrity.
Mehta was helped in his endeavour not only by his very effective Munich orchestra, but also by the soloist, Yefim Bronfman, a pianist who made his international debut with the Montreal Symphony under Mehta's baton back in 1975. In those early years of his career, Bronfman gained renown for his technical prowess, for his vivid and powerful Prokofiev and Rachmaninov. More recently, his steely fingers have been draped into velvety gloves, to spectacular effects.
In the evening’s rendition of Brahms’ First Piano Concerto, Bronfman infused his collaboration with Mehta and the Munich Philharmonic with qualities that exemplify the great chamber music player that he truly is: the capacity to listen to others, the desire to cooperate rather than dictate as a soloist. His interactions with the woodwinds and horns were exemplary in this regard. Bronfman skilfully conveyed the restless energy of Brahms' solo writing, while also treating introspective passages with sensitivity, but not undue sentimentality. Occasionally one could hear Mozartian or Chopinesque reminiscences (Bronfman’s encore metamorphised the devilish fingerwork of Chopin’s “Revolutionary” Étude into an ethereal soundscape).