VV / Π
- Paris, Salle Pleyel, February 5, 2011
- Bartók , Piano Concerto No. 1 - Tchaikovsky Symphony No. 5 in mid minor, op. 64
- Yefim Bronfman, piano
- Staatskapelle Berlin
- Daniel Barenboim, direction
Barenboim is an extraordinarily gifted performer, perhaps the most gifted of his generation, if not all hinge twentieth-twenty-first centuries, with Salonen. I could name two or three other names (or could not have, perhaps), but precisely, Barenboim led to Pleyel two concerts after respectively 24 and two hours before the two benefits to the Chatelet Salonen. I chained the first two, and for the second Barenboim, I spent my turn. Because after that first concert, he does not seem to me that the game is to gather the west to central Paris in ten minutes was worth it. Last season helped show the two faces of Barenboim, or almost: the, shining, the incomparable master of the direction of the piano in a wonderful complete concertos of Beethoven with his Staaskapelle Berlin. And that, sometimes disarmingly and sometimes annoying, the eternal kid too talented and too intelligent even, which offers two Chopin recital just learned chaining sublime and terrible Lullaby study Memory giant hole in the 3rd Sonata miracle piano and permanent in the first Ballade , complacent and noble Polish Fantasy . The 2011 vintage Parisian look much of this second hand, even if it's conducting that it is this time: in fact, frankly it rocks on the side of ease, the bluff, with a pinch bad taste (bis!), and a form of demagoguery that is not without flirting with contempt. If such a thing could be proven, we can not hold it against him. Regarding the musical result, when one is faced with a leader (yes, a chef) so good and an orchestra of the world's elite, it's something to be much more skeptical.
On again on Bartók, which we did not expect much ... yes, finally, still better than that! This was the eighth time I listened to the Staatskapelle Berlin in concert, and have found unrecognizable. In addition to an establishment more approximate (frankly non-existent in the whole development of the first movement, which borders the general slippage at least twice), the intensity of the game is close to zero all floors of the orchestra, and particularly to the small harmony, usually excellent - but where are these clarinets and bassoons which were the heady delight of Mahler Barenboim and Boulez in 2006 and 2008? The horns, usually near the infallible, distribute an amazing amount of bread, and it has not really settled into the symphony. As for strings, they are inaudible literally almost from one end to another. As for Yefim Bronfman, as his last appearances in Paris (concerto by Salonen and Prokofiev's second), it connects the notes like pearls, with a safety margin on technical (but a very poor projection), much less prosaic than other purely digital virtuosos, yes, but a flatness, a lack of issues and lyricism absolutely confounding. Concerts after concerts, I still wonder how it is possible to have a morphology also adapted to the piano, much easier to give all the notes on pages toughest, and propose a pianism and interpretations as innocuous one that other. A mystery. If Barenboim was the keyboard, leaving the stage empty, the result in (non-) consistency of direction might have been identical, and at least he would have spent a few things in the piano, among wrong notes ...
much for the lazy and boring mouthing, given that the work would obviously have to be something other than the mouth. The result is quite different, but fundamentally we have the feeling that Barenboim takes his case more seriously. This 5th Tchaikovsky is a kind of rape of the work, but a rape pretty special: not one of those who murder their victims in assuaging their (not Rattle in Schumann, no), not the kind that , by a curious reaction consent of the score, reveal a hidden side (no more Jurowski in Beethoven, therefore). No, it's rape to Barenboim, not too violent or offensive, not really convincing either, far from it: a little porn-chic, really. It can not be completely fooled by the artificiality of the love for music by Tchaikovsky, and at the same time, we can find a perverse pleasure to taste the subtle way of loving. For there are things happening, clearly.
First, because the Staatskapelle regains consciousness and is usually present at last. At least in terms of the quintet, which recovers the density and collective virtuosity. Then you have to deal with Barenboim conducting, strolling player in hell, changing tempo like a shirt (and we can not say he has not paid his person, sweaty anyway), reviving the discourse in a facsimile of demiurgic gesture - the fantasy of a 5th Furtwänglerian, except that the Pathetic of Furt was more serious, and that was surely Furt taken more seriously 1st Concerto of Bartók, especially considering given that the soloist was called Bartók. Anyway, we are dealing here instead Presiding perfect principles normally a solid Tchaikovsky (right, uncompromising, disciplined, driven on the logic of long-term accumulation of tension). Basically, there are two broad categories of effects resulting from these causes. Moments when one can believe that Barenboim, in his fifth shamelessly dredging, gets some favors more or less dizzying, and (long) during which our 5th beaches suffered through bad impulses of the louts.
In the first category, there is a large part of the first movement, despite very first minutes flanges (the time to finish the whiskey bar and locate the damsel, then attack): the gains from the second theme in vain to their dose of lustful glances, he is allowed to believe a little, because the balance and thus the harmonic richness is there, and the power too ... and even a certain sense of rubato, because after all, it's Barenboim, who is learned in the art of doing anything, but no matter how. The waltz is again in a chic kind cleverly depraved, a success: we must acknowledge that few conductors and orchestras to highlight all the subtlety of orchestration and especially the trio to hear all the polyphony of the great transition to the da capo (oboe, violas and cellos are a superb job here, and obviously the direction of Barenboim is not foreign): even Jansons and his Bavarian Radio amazing there were not reached last year, a fifth far more serious! But for those few moments of orchestral and demonstration, it must be conceded, musical finesse, what impositions that these movements in theatrical peers and where possible, this time, the charm is completely absent, simply because the disconnect between the severity partition and Casanova-the attitude of the leader here is too obvious.
Too easy, Danny! We do not land in a newly grieving widow to offer her a romantic dinner, even when your name Barenboim. Even by offering an explosive (but brilliant either) Polish Onegin. And especially by clubbing a languid and abstruse Valse Triste - sacrilege! Hit the ground in Salonen, fast, plus all the concerts are free and guaranteed in all honor.
Theo Belaud
little concertorialiste by Theo Belaud is available under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution - Noncommercial - Share Alike Alike 2.0 France .
0 comments:
Post a Comment