Shostakovich and Prokofiev
RFH, 3 February 2005

Shostakovich Festive Overture
Prokofiev Piano Concerto No.3
Shostakovich Symphony No.15

Philharmonia Orchestra/Mikhail Pletnev
James Tocco piano

Shostakovich's 15th and last symphony was composed when he was an ill man who had difficulty writing with his right hand, as Noëlle Mann, founder of the Prokofiev Association and Curator of the Prokofiev Archive at Goldsmith's College, reminded us in her pre-concert talk. It can be described as a chamber symphony for large orchestra, an innovatory manner of orchestrating which perhaps stemmed from Mahler's 4th?

The 15th appears to be a work which the composer allowed to grow intuitively, without any pre-planned formulaic schema. A jaunty pervasive rhythm became a quote from William Tell, why he knew not, except that "it seemed nexcessary", as presumably did others from Wagner and Glinka. This engendered a mood of listener alertness, with surprises of small motifs in striking and mostly spare instrumental combinations making for uneasy smiles, anxious music with awareness of mortality?

One listened avidly through the two shortish allegretto movements, each followed by a lengthy adagio, savouring every detail as it passed and alert to what might succeed moment to moment. Enigmatic music which on reflection afterwards brought to my mind some other late symphonies which disconcerted their early audiences, Nielsen's 6th (non-'semplice'!) and Malcolm Arnold's Ninth (which was initially rejected by the BBC) - all these puzzling and intriguing works which are inevitably described as 'enigmatic'. The Philharmonia Orchestra aquitted itself well and was rewarded by intent silent listening.

Pletnev's account was carefully prepared and made the journey to South Bank worthwhile after a lack-lustre first half, which had us dispirited for the interval. Shostakovich's Festive Overture is hollow and banal and should be pensioned off; Prokofiev's popular 3rd piano concerto fared badly in a routine, uninvolved account by James Tocco; balance was left to chance and a lot of the pianistic figuration could only be heard with the eyes. There was nothing of the joie de vivre of a young composer at the height of his powers anticipated in Noëlle Mann's introduction; a nearby mobile brought smiles which the music hadn't!