For its second concert in a row at the Fernand-Lindsay Amphitheatre, the OSM had chosen a Russian program. Just like the very Germanic concert the day before, it was characterized by a very sharp performance by the orchestra in the symphonic piece of resistance, Scheherazade, by Rimsky-Korsakov.
We might as well get the elephant in the room out of the way: the performance of Yoav Levanon, the young pianist who gave a dismal recital for his Canadian debut in Saint-Barthélemy on Wednesday. Concerto No. 1 Tchaikovsky’s was more presentable, although it’s best not to scratch the surface too much.
Tchaikovsky’s Challenges
Levanon has assured the blow, on the digital level. He therefore has the concerto in his fingers with the necessary virtuosity (we had seen these qualities with theStudy op. 5 n° 11 of Chopin). He also knows how to refine his nuances with his fingertips and lighten the touch. The passages light which pose a problem for many pianists go down very well with him, a technical asset (lace playing) which he uses in his encore, The Campanella Liszt. Hand coordination is also improved. And if, within the flood of notes, not all are placed, the quota of those that are not there is not prohibitive in itself.
Obviously, many things have not changed. Thus, Levanon’s playing is exclusively a forearm playing. The whole body does not participate in the sound production, especially since the pianist is stiff as a board. Moreover, in the “development” sections (cadence of the first part), there is no particular conduction of the phrases: the work is played as a pianist much more than as a musician. If we ask ourselves where such an idea or such a crescendo leads, why such a section is fortissimo rather than strong, Levanon does not really provide any answers, and his action in concert with the orchestra remains limited.
To return to our comparison with the recent Montreal International Music Competition, three of the finalists had played Tchaikovsky, all three more interesting than that, notably Gabriele Strata, for example in the questioning of the alliance of the flame and the weight of the accentuation of the 3e note of the motif in the Final : that’s what’s difficult; that’s the challenge; that’s what makes the character and the power of the movement. To evade it is to get around the problem.
The egg whites
It was interesting to hear the interpretation of Scheherazade by Rafael Payare and the OSM after the break, because precisely the aforementioned questions (Where does such an idea or such a crescendo lead? Why is such a section fortissimo rather than strong ?) all certainly found their answers. This is the great asset of this conducting: Payare directs the orchestra in a symphonic poem as one whips egg whites. He gradually strengthens things. The story takes on substance, the music tension and this gradation hooks the listener.
The chef comes up with some great ideas, like sforzandos of tuba in the 4e shutter, which is rarely heard to this extent. The only small regret is, during the shipwreck, a bass drum that perhaps believed it was still in the Nagano era (the one where people apologized for asking for forgiveness for having to hit something), while the cymbal and timpani at its sides found exactly the right volume.
This is because, in this orchestral maelstrom, individual performances become all the more important and notable as Scheherazademagical and narrative, is a true concerto for orchestra. While it was once said that Tim Hutchins (flute) and Theodore Baskins (oboe) were “stars” within the OSM collective, Scheherazade highlighted the “new stars”: Andrew Wan, obviously, but especially Todd Cope on the clarinet, who gave us a real musical number, with perfect suavity.
About Andrew Wan, a small remark all the same. If his playing were admirable, he would gain in Lanaudière, in scores that expose him so much in solo, by finding a way to place his instrument more perpendicular to the audience. At the Maison symphonique, the acoustic phenomenon is less, but in Lanaudière the sound loses impact by fleeing towards the back. We had already noticed this the day before, in Zarathustra, with the suddenly striking relief of a short solo by the violin Olivier Thouin, whose instrument was oriented at 90 degrees.