Philharmonia/Denève
Stéphane Denève is a conductor with a sharp eye for grand dramatic gestures, but his ear for the finer details is not always so sure. His thoughtfully conceived programmes can amount to less than the sum of their parts.
Thus it was here, where the exuberant exoticism of Rimsky-Korsakov's Scheherazade and Paul Dukas's La Péri were contrasted with the more serene world of Mozart's A major concerto K488. An interesting mix, which would have demanded great poise from Rimsky-Korsakov's rambling score for it not to embarrass itself in front of one of Mozart's most effortlessly refined works.
There were fine moments, particularly from Zsolt-Tihamér Visontay's marvellously voluptuous solo violin (aided by theatrical strumming from harpist Hugh Webb), and from principal flute Kenneth Smith and principal clarinet Barnaby Robson. Yet for an orchestra of the Philharmonia's quality, and in a work whose virtuosic orchestration is its main virtue, the ensemble was disappointingly wayward, dissipating the rhythmic drive and sapping the bright colours of their vitality. Without Visontay's fervent advocacy, one would have feared for the yarn-spinning princess's life.
The Mozart was disappointing, too. Lars Vogt can be one of the most exciting pianists of his generation, bringing Gould-like levels of intensity and thoughtful idiosyncrasy to the classical repertoire. As usual, there was much to admire in his playing – notably in the quieter passages of the slow movement – but it married only intermittently with what the orchestra was doing. As for the Dukas, the composer himself pointed out that if the opening gestures come across too clearly, it soon becomes "intolerable". To Denève's credit, after a fine opening fanfare, the results managed to be both far from clear and far from tolerable.
Thus it was here, where the exuberant exoticism of Rimsky-Korsakov's Scheherazade and Paul Dukas's La Péri were contrasted with the more serene world of Mozart's A major concerto K488. An interesting mix, which would have demanded great poise from Rimsky-Korsakov's rambling score for it not to embarrass itself in front of one of Mozart's most effortlessly refined works.
There were fine moments, particularly from Zsolt-Tihamér Visontay's marvellously voluptuous solo violin (aided by theatrical strumming from harpist Hugh Webb), and from principal flute Kenneth Smith and principal clarinet Barnaby Robson. Yet for an orchestra of the Philharmonia's quality, and in a work whose virtuosic orchestration is its main virtue, the ensemble was disappointingly wayward, dissipating the rhythmic drive and sapping the bright colours of their vitality. Without Visontay's fervent advocacy, one would have feared for the yarn-spinning princess's life.
The Mozart was disappointing, too. Lars Vogt can be one of the most exciting pianists of his generation, bringing Gould-like levels of intensity and thoughtful idiosyncrasy to the classical repertoire. As usual, there was much to admire in his playing – notably in the quieter passages of the slow movement – but it married only intermittently with what the orchestra was doing. As for the Dukas, the composer himself pointed out that if the opening gestures come across too clearly, it soon becomes "intolerable". To Denève's credit, after a fine opening fanfare, the results managed to be both far from clear and far from tolerable.
