SCO, 27/01/2017

Dvorák : Legends
Mozart : Piano Concerto No. 23, KV. 488
Mozart : Piano Concerto No. 27, KV. 595 (Maria João Pires, piano)

Scottish Chamber Orchestra
Robin Ticciati

On Mozart's 261st birthday, it was our privilege, and great pleasure, to be treated to not one, but two of his piano concertos, in the masterly hands of Maria João Pires, but before each concerto, we had the unusual but endearing Legends as an opener.  The ten pieces that constitute Dvorák's Op. 59 were originally written for piano four-hands, another set of folk-inspired pieces to follow up on the enormous success of his Slavonic Dances.  Like the Dances, the Legends were also subsequently orchestrated, though for substantially smaller forces, and their nature is less overtly folkloric, although the inspiration is still evident.

If there are actual stories behind each piece, Dvorák never revealed them, and so we simply have ten short pieces, of a lyrical, often idyllic nature, sometimes playful, but more often a little wistful, as is so often characteristic of Dvorák.  They were divided in half, five each before each concerto, and given a warmly affectionate reading by Ticciati and the orchestra, tender and evocative, and played with freshness and charm.

Five years separate the two concertos; hardly any time at all, and yet an eternity in the short life of the blazing comet that was Mozart.  There is a huge difference between the two works, the later one pared down to the bone, with lean orchestration, and plainly presented melodies, while the earlier piece has a warmth of tone in the orchestra conferred by the presence of clarinets, and a melodic discourse very clearly infused with undertones of the opera he was writing at the same time.  For is it not patently obvious, in the slow movement, that we are hearing Countess Almaviva's pain, in an oblique echo of "Porgi amor"?

Pires's playing is as ageless and intemporal as her person, an object lesson in clarity and elegance, with phrasing as limpid and fluid as water from a mountain stream.  The A major concerto sang, rather than played, the piano tone sweet and warm, beautifully supported by the orchestra in a true dialogue, and the Adagio  in particular was heartbreakingly lovely.  While there was no reduction of quality in the B-flat concerto, the music itself is perhaps a little more emotionally detached; the orchestral sound is a little less mellow, the piano writing not as vocal.  Mozart was headed in new directions, but did not live long enough to clarify those directions, and his last concerto stands like a signpost to a destination only to be divined.  As such, it's perhaps not quite as engaging as the earlier work, and I found myself admiring the exquisite craftsmanship rather than vibrating to the sentiment.  Exquisite, however, they both were, and an experience to be treasured.

[Next : 28th January]