United Kingdom Brahms, Tchaikovsky: Pavel Kolesnikov (piano), London Philharmonic Orchestra / Edward Gardner (conductor). Royal Festival Hall, London, 5.11.2025. (JR)
Brahms – Tragic Overture Op.81; Symphony No.4, Op.98
Tchaikovsky – Piano Concerto No.1, Op.23
Brahms chose the title ‘Tragic’ to emphasise the turbulent, tormented character of the piece, contrasting with the ebullience of the now better-known (and, it has to be said, more fun) Academic Festival Overture which he wrote in the same year. He declared ‘One is laughing, one is crying’. Gardner delivered a suitably weighty, serious, measured and dramatic account.
Tchaikovsky’s First Piano Concerto is an old warhorse, and I mean that politely; it is a great favourite with many. Indeed, many listeners will know every note and sing along (hopefully internally or quietly) as they listen. When Pavel Kolesnikov appeared, we knew we were in for something unusual. Wearing what looked like his father’s old white shirt, down to his knees, and a white waistcoat on top, and sporting an unruly mop of hair and moustache, he looked like the pianist’s answer to Nigel Kennedy. The programme note told us that Tchaikovsky made several revisions to the work before its final version; Kolesnikov decided to play some parts of an early version, just to make the work more interesting. The only one I spotted were the opening chords, normally solid, but in this performance arpeggiated or ‘rolled’. The work suits Kolesnikov’s style: flamboyant, somewhat eccentric, some might say affected. There was no doubting his muscularity, I was surprised the Steinway was in one piece at the end of the work. Kolesnikov employs theatrical arm gestures throughout, fingers caressing the keyboard, lingering and hovering over it, wide sweeps – and occasionally not hitting the right note. Kolesnikov played as fast as he could, with dazzling fingerwork: Gardner had his work cut out to keep up, the orchestra played with vim and precision. Catching the ear were Wayne Kwon (cello) and Juliette Bausor (flute).
Kolesnikov had the audience in the palm of his hand. Slow passages were played with utmost sensitivity (as with his Chopin Waltz in A minor encore). This was a full-blooded, heart-on-sleeve performance with continual use of the sustaining pedal and culminated in the loudest applause I have heard in a concert hall for some while. The interpretation was not for the purists, but the work does have its share of vulgarity.
Brahms’s Fourth Symphony is also often trotted out to put bottoms on seats (and the house was virtually sold-out) and therefore, with its familiar melodies and melancholies, needs a performance and interpretation of distinction, with symphonic coherence, to win over a weary listener who may be over-familiar with the piece. The work is supposed to leave you emotionally battered rather than superficially consoled; it is not supposed to be easy listening; it has no major key happy ending. It is despairing, troubling yet astonishing. Gardner succeeded on all counts, aided by the London Philharmonic on top form. Muscular strings with Brahmsian depth and sweep, strident brass, gorgeous woodwind; the orchestra simply glowed. In the genial slow movement, the horns impressed, lip-fault free. The power and energy of the Allegro giocoso, a scherzo in all but name, were lightened by a shrieking piccolo and the tingling triangle: Gardner could afford himself some smiles and swaying on the podium. The final movement with its thirty variations can seem repetitive but Gardner coloured them skilfully and brought the final coda to a thrilling and most satisfying conclusion. The orchestra had worked hard, across the board. Again, Juliette Bausor’s honeyed flute playing was lauded. A most satisfying and enjoyable concert – and I won’t forget Kolesnikov in a hurry.
John Rhodes