Khatia Buniatishvili, Paavo Järvi / Orchestre de Paris
Dubugnon / Schumann / Shostakovich
Tonhalle Zurich, 2016-05-28
2016-10-13 — Brushed up for better readability
The “star of the evening” on this day was the Orchestre de Paris, one of Paris’ prominent orchestras. The ensemble emerged 1967 as successor to the Société des concerts du Conservatoire, which again dates back to 1828. The first conductor of the Orchestre de Paris was Charles Munch (1891 – 1968). His successors were Herbert von Karajan (1908 – 1989), Sir Georg Solti (1912 – 1997), Daniel Barenboim (*1942), Semyon Bychkov (*1952), Christoph von Dohnányi (*1929), and Christoph Eschenbach (*1940). More information on the orchestra on Wikipedia.
In 2010, Paavo Järvi took over the musical direction of the orchestra. He also was the conductor in this concert. Paavo Järvi was born 1962 in Tallinn, Estonia. His father, Neeme Järvi (*1937), is also a well-known conductor (see also Wikipedia for more information on Paavo Järvi). The main residence for the orchestra now is the newly opened Philharmonie de Paris.
The soloist in this concert was the Georgian pianist Khatia Buniatishvili (*1987). Khatia started studying piano at age 3, with her mother as teacher, and at age 6 she already made a first concert appearance in Tbilisi, and at age 10 she started giving concerts in various parts of the world: a true child prodigy! Further studies led her to Austria (1999 – 2002). After graduating from the Central Music School in Tbilisi, she entered the Tbilisi State Conservatory in 2004. Around 2010 (after winning several prizes at competitions), she launched an international career as concert pianist. She now lives in Paris (more information again on Wikipedia).
My first encounter with Khatia Buniatishvili was in a concert on 2009-10-04 in the old church (Alte Kirche / Künstlerhaus) in Boswil, where she gave a piano recital / duo recital with Walter Delahunt (*1946). She was stepping in for Martha Argerich (*1941), at very short notice. I don’t remember all details of the repertoire in that concert, except that she played the Piano Sonata No.7, op.83 by Sergei Prokofiev (1891 – 1953). However, I do remember that I was fascinated by her fast fingers: I had a stage seat, two meters from the piano, but it was impossible to follow her hands & fingers! In the aftermath, that recital in 2009 anticipated some of the experience in this concert at the Tonhalle Zurich, see below.
A View Onto the Podium
To this concert: just the view of the Orchestre de Paris (full staffing 119 musicians, according to the orchestra’s Website) was unusual for Zurich. The men in the ensemble were all wearing half-long (or short?) frock coats, contrasting to both the Tonhalle Orchestra (usually standard suit) and the Philharmonia Zurich (tailcoats, at least in Philharmonic concerts). That detail alone indicated that the concert experience would not be the same as with the local orchestras. The podium had been enlarged for this large ensemble. In addition, the concert grand for the Schumann concerto was placed on a second (lower) podium extension.
Richard Dubugnon: Caprice for Orchestra, op.72/2
Richard Dubugnon was born 1968 in Lausanne, in the French-speaking part of Switzerland. He studied history in Montpellier. At the same time he studied composition and playing the double bass. After only two years he is accepted to the Conservatoire national supérieur de musique de Paris; he then moved to London for seven years, where in 1997 he obtained the Master degree in composition from the Royal Academy of Music. 1997 – 2002 Richard Dubugnon was teaching composition at the Purcell School, and in 2003 he moved back to Paris, rapidly gaining reputation as a composer. He has received various prizes for his work. Dubugnon has been elected Composer in Residence with the Orchestre de chambre de Lausanne (2013/2014) and with the Musikkollegium Winterthur (2016/2017). I took this information from the French section of Wikipedia.
Richard Dubugnon’s Caprice for Orchestra No.2 is a work that was commissioned by the Orchestre de Paris. It is a piece of just below 14 minutes. As the program notes (by the organizer, Migros Kulturprozent) explain, Dubugnon actually prefers bigger forms. However, he typically gets commissioned for pieces of around 10 minutes (considered to be “digestible” by / acceptable for traditional audiences). So, he is now collecting such pieces in his op.72, Caprice No.2 being the second part of ultimately a bigger work. The size of the end result will depend on the number of segments he gets commissioned for.
The Caprice No.2 is tailored to the large, rich setting of the Orchestre de Paris. It is an entertaining, multi-faceted composition. My experience in this concert was obviously without score and preparation, except that I tried familiarizing myself with a few of Dubugnon’s earlier compositions. Let me therefore just describe my impressions, my intuitive thoughts and associations while listening to this:
The beginning of the Caprice is bold, supported by the strong, rich sound of the wind section. However, the music soon retracts into a more internalized segment. The composition then follows a path of alternation between extroverted richness (typically with strong contributions from the brass and percussion sections) and softer, often almost intimate sections. In the latter, mostly the silky, homogeneous sound of the large string formation is dominating. One finds comfortably walking basses, as well as capricious dialogs between violins and the woodwinds. A passage with xylophone and celesta reminds me of music by Paul Dukas. Orchestral groupings appear to fight each other. There are jazzy segments, grumbling thunders, enthralling percussion sequences, but also colorful, crowded scenes, reminding of aleatoric music. Ultimately, it all ends in two very strong drum beats.
Paavo Järvi effortlessly mastered the frequent changes in tempo and time signature. Richard Dubugnon writes largely atonal music, occasionally polytonal, but never repellingly dissonant. The music does not follow any traditional harmonic course. In the first audition, the unprepared listener will not catch distinct, melodic elements. Therefore, one may miss elements that could help recognizing an internal structure. In the aftermath, I read in the program notes that this is a set of variations. I failed to recognize that in the first, unprepared impression. However, I don’t see this as defect, as I could enjoy the diverse expressions in this intense, rich soundscape also without the knowledge about internal ordering principles.
- Allegro affettuoso (4/4, 1/2 = 84) — Andante espressivo (6/4, 3/4 = 72) — Allegro (Tempo I) — Più animato, Passionato — Tempo I — Cadenza — Allegro molto
- Intermezzo, Andantino grazioso (2/4, 1/8 = 120)
- Allegro vivace (3/4, 3/4 = 72)
The concerto premiered 1846, with Robert’s wife Clara Schumann (a superb pianist!) at the piano. For this performance in Zurich now, the seat at the Steinway D was occupied by Khatia Buniatishvili. To me, she appeared like a visual study about “Le Rouge et le Noir“, without connection to Stendhal, of course. Unfortunately, in my opinion, the performance also featured only limited connection to the composer, Robert Schumann. That latter impression wasn’t just a failure to fulfill specific expectations on this concerto: I felt that the soloist had totally moved away from the current trend of seeking the original sound, away from any attempt to explore the composer’s intent, as laid down in the musical score:
I. Allegro affettuoso — Andante espressivo — Allegro (Tempo I) — Più animato, Passionato — Allegro molto
To me, that was obvious already from the very first chord cascades. These were vastly faster than notated. And the short semiquaver chords in the dotted rhythm were degraded to short and superficial acciaccaturas. Thereafter, the orchestra overcompensated by playing too slow. The subsequent solo (espressivo) was even slower, extremely lyrical and mellow, veiled, dreamy, faraway. Where the piano played accompanying figures, these appeared so blurred that listeners had problems hearing them. In parts, this may also have been because the orchestra was rather loud, and too big (6 double basses!).
Pretty much in general, the soloist used extremes in the tempo, switching between extremely lyrical and extremely fast and virtuosic. For example, when the piano set in with marcato octave parallels, the pace suddenly changed to (too) fast again. Buniatishvili’s playing was technically superb, but often too smooth and perfect. I missed detailed articulation, let alone signs of Klangrede, agogics (I think the difference between rubato and agogics evades the artist), elaboration in secondary voices.
II. Intermezzo, Andantino grazioso
The Intermezzo probably was the best part of the interpretation. However, it was really late-romantic, also in the orchestral sound, and the solo part was very, very lyrical and mellow. The attribute “female” may seem appropriate (politically incorrect, though?), at least considering that the soloist is playing out that aspect also from her visual appearance. Nevertheless, also in this movement I missed the agogics, that fine play with retaining and accelerating within a bar.
III. Allegro vivace
The final movement was extreme in its focus on fast playing, with superficial, blurred runs and figures, lacking all detail in articulation and phrasing. It was merely perhaps aiming to be elegant and light. These aren’t attributes that I typically associate with Robert Schumann’s music. Overall, that movement felt like a permanent chase through the score, often to the point where the orchestra started to have problems following. My conclusion: the piano was the first to cross the finish line, maybe closely followed by the orchestra—but Schumann fell by the wayside. In general, I think that as a listener one should be open towards personal, maybe unusual interpretations. However, these should remain within the scope of the composer’s text in the score, as otherwise, the result is a paraphrase at best, a “concerto after Schumann”.
Encore — Frédéric Chopin: Prélude in E minor, op.28/4
Needless to say that at least a fraction of the audience did not resist the fascination of an extreme performance: Khatia Buniatishvili rewarded the applause with the Prélude No.4 in E minor (Largo) from the 24 Préludes, op.28, by Frédéric Chopin (1810 – 1849). This may have set a record in slowness, but it was definitely atmospheric and dreamy. I liked it more than any part of the preceding concerto.
- Largo (4/4, 1/8 = 72) — Moderato (1/4 = 66) — Largo (1/4 = 44)
- Allegretto (3/8, 3/8 = 104)
- Presto (2/2, 1/2 = 168)
With this symphony, after the intermission, Paavo Järvi and the Orchestre de Paris could finally play out their full strengths. Consequently, those in the audience who left after the concerto were thoroughly proven wrong: they missed the best part of the evening!
Shostakovich’s music may often feel exceedingly motoric, if not (initially) repelling. However, his Sixth Symphony is a thoroughly serene, often joyful masterpiece. The composer commented: “I wanted to convey in it the moods of spring, joy, youth“. The orchestra was brilliant, with an excellent wind section, both woodwinds (flutes, cor anglais) and the brass section, the strings (particularly violins) were superb in their dense, homogeneous sound.
I. Largo — Moderato — Largo
The beginning of the first movement reminded me of Bruckner. The music that followed is rich in rhythmic differentiation, and playing out quaver duplets and triplets against punctuated crotchets, etc. against each other. In addition, frequent, cleverly placed changes in time leave the listener “suspended”, (seemingly) without a persistent and thorough rhythmic base. Paavo Järvi’s direction was firm, and using large, flowing gestures. Clearly, he was in full control of the music and the ensemble. With such a large orchestra, the concert master typically can’t really achieve much in terms of coordination and secondary guidance. To me, it was an excellent, absolutely compelling interpretation, up to the last bars, where the music fades away into silence. My only, really minor reservation was that around  in the score (Sostenuto), the celesta was maybe a bit too prominent / pervasive.
The second movement (Allegretto) puts high demands on the woodwinds, in terms of agility and endurance. It is enthralling music, especially also from its percussion part. The music leaves the listener almost breathless. The performance by the Orchestre de Paris was masterful, and far more than just flawless.
The final movement (Presto) even exceeded this: a galloping, virtuosic orchestral showpiece. Moreover, this is an extreme challenge in terms of coordination and agility of the entire ensemble. Paavo Järvi and his musicians offered a performance that was both compelling and enthralling. Therefore, the enthusiastic applause was more than justified.
Encore — Shostakovich: “Tahiti Trot”, op.16
The musicians offered a final encore, “Tahiti Trot”, op.16, again by Dmitri Shostakovich. This is an orchestra transcription of the popular song “Tea for Two” (from the 1925 musical “No, No, Nanette” with music by Vincent Youmans and lyrics by Irving Caesar), which Shostakovich created in 1927, within 45 minutes, in (successful) response to a bet. It’s a 4-minute, ironic fun piece, making everybody in the audience smile: an excellent way to close the evening!
For the same concert, I have also written a (much shorter) review in German for Bachtrack.com, see also the note at the top. This posting is not a translation of the Bachtrack review.