|
By
John Sidgwick
LONDON, 10 February 2005—The London
Philharmonic Orchestra. This is a really great band. Let there be no mistake
about it. Sumptuous strings, consummate winds, inspired percussion. Unleash
them onto Debussy and Ravel writing at their best and you have an unforgettable
musical experience.
Last week, under the sensitive baton of the Japanese
conductor, Takuo Yuasa, the orchestra demonstrated to the full the impact and
subtleties of Debussy's La Mer. Yuasa, given his excellent all-round
musicianship, is increasingly appreciated by broadcasters and concert managers
around the world, not only for his insight into the core repertoire but also
for his enthusiastic championing of contemporary composers. I suppose that
La Mer has to be looked upon as core repertoire. Yet Yuasa and the
orchestra made the work sound as though it had been wrought yesterday. There
was a smell of the salt sea in the air. And, hideous thought, there was even
the ominous threat of a tsunami. Debussy's publisher, Jacques Durand wrote: "I
remember, in his study, a certain coloured engraving by Hokusai, representing
the curve of a giant wave. Debussy was particularly enamoured of this wave. It
inspired him while he was composing La Mer, and he asked us to reproduce
it on the front cover of the printed score." No comment…
And so to Ravel and the pianist Ana-Maria Vera. Still
in her thirties, Vera has enjoyed a rich and varied career that few can
match. Born in the United States of Dutch-Bolivian parents, she began her
musical studies with her mother at the age of three. Early on, her gifts
were recognised and nurtured by teachers such as Vida Novik and Leon
Fleisher, and soon she was performing with major orchestras world-wide. In
recent years, she has devoted much time to chamber music and has given
memorable recitals with such artists as Ivry Gitlis, Steven Isserlis and
Joshua Bell. She is now resident in Britain and she chose for her first
appearance on London's South Bank to perform Ravel's G major piano
concerto.
Ana-Maria
Vera
And here, I have to hold myself back and curtail the flow of
adjectives, adverbs and clichés as I attempt to describe Vera's
electrifying reading of the work. The two outer movements glittered with fun,
humour and superb pianism. Most importantly, there was a complete symbiosis
between conductor, orchestra and soloist, so that the full range of Ravel's
magic shone like a new sun. As for the middle movement, one of the most simple
yet most emotional musical pages of all that were written in the 20th century,
I can only say that here, Vera cast a spell of such intensity over her audience
that one scarcely dared to breathe. The long opening passage, where the piano
is unaccompanied, spoke of serenity, distance, of eternity even. And when the
orchestra finally crept in, the players, all of them, took their lead from
Vera's inspired guidance.
Ana-Maria Vera's playing, even in childhood,
was always remarkable for its maturity. On the evidence of last night's
performance, she has acquired added maturity, perhaps as a result of her long
and recent apprenticeship in chamber music. We can only hope to hear her again
in other works from her vast concerto repertoire.
John Sidgwick
writes on music in Britain and France for
Culturekiosque.com
|
|
KlassikNet: Classical Concerts