One of the happiest results of the influx of Russian talent into Britain has been conductor Vasily Petrenko's tenure with the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra, which he has led since 2009 and brought into the league of the major London orchestras. His recordings for the fine independent Onyx label have all been notable, but this one, featuring Elgar's Enigma Variations, Op. 36, is especially strong. Surely Petrenko did not have the Enigma Variations in his blood, and you might offhand expect him to make them sound like Tchaikovsky. Not a bit of it; this is a lean, light, and beautifully sculpted Enigma Variations, where sentiment emerges where it is warranted (sample the flowing and famous "Nimrod" variation) but is otherwise held in reserve, and each of the character sketches that make up the work have a vivid, lively quality.
These works share the common key of E flat major but represent two very different stages in the composer’s life. The Piano Concerto No. 0, WoO 4, written when Beethoven was 13 years old, is one of his earliest works. With the orchestral score lost, this extant version for piano solo written in Beethoven’s hand includes the tutti sections reduced for piano. The radiant ‘Emperor’ Concerto shows the 38-year-old Beethoven at the peak of his creative powers, and remains a glorious example of his spirit triumphing over life’s adversities.
For 19th-century audiences Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 3 was the most loved of all his piano concertos, a work in which the balancing of high drama, tenderness, lyricism and humour is most pronounced and in which a coda resolves inner tensions with brilliance and triumphant grandeur. Piano Concerto No. 4 is the most introspective and poetic of the concertos. The simplicity of its opening piano statement gives way to an unprecedented dialogue in the central movement between a heartfelt piano and an austere unison string orchestra, before the infectious energy of the dramatic finale.
Joseph Suk's Ripening is one of the most amazing of all post-Romantic orchestral works. It is immensely complex in its structure: a celestial introduction is followed by a cogent progress of scherzos and slow movements, of funeral marches and fugues, all concluded by a serene coda. Yet the work is immediately comprehensible as a musical drama, made clear through the coherence of the thematic and harmonic material. Pesek and the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic perform like modern-day deities. They fall short of the heights of Talich and the Czech Philharmonic, but Talich gave the work its premiere. Nonetheless, Pesek gives Ripening his very considerable all: his concentration holds the gigantic structure together as a single arch. Plus, his players articulate every instrumental detail, right down to the beatific wordless women's choir at the work's close. Highly recommended.
Libor Pešek offers a fulsome selection of Romeo and Juliet excerpts–more than 71 minutes’ worth. Rather than the usual suites, Pešek’s selections follow the order of their appearance in the full ballet, thereby creating a cogent narrative (as opposed to Prokofiev’s own suites that, while not necessarily following the story line, are nonetheless dramatically effective). Pešek proves a fine ballet conductor, ever alert to the music’s rhythm, energy, and color. He beautifully shapes Folk Dance, Friar Lawrence, and Juliet’s Funeral, taking care to highlight rhythms and accents while pointing up the music’s drama. The balcony scene flows smoothly yet surges with unabashed feeling at the climaxes.