EIF: Oslo Philharmonic: Yuja Wang plays Ravel

Usher Hall - 21/08/23

Oslo Philharmonic - Klaus Mäkelä, conductor | Yuja Wang, piano 

It is not in the least bit unusual to have a superstar concert pianist appearing at the Edinburgh International Festival.  It could even be said that we expect it.  Nor, indeed, is it rare for the bill of fare to feature either of Ravel’s excellent jazz-influenced piano concerti.  But when Chinese virtuosa Yuja Wang is in town with the Oslo Philharmonic under Klaus Mäkelä to play both of the Ravel concerti in the same concert, that is remarkable.  Add in a second half with Shostakovich’s most well-known and popular (if enigmatic) symphony, the Fifth, and one expects an Usher Hall packed to the rafters, and indeed it was on the night of Tuesday 22nd August. 

Ravel’s Concerto for the Left Hand was a commission from Paul Wittgenstein (brother of the philosopher) who had lost his right arm in the First World War, received while Ravel was already working on the Concerto in G, so the two date from the same period, the latter started first but finished last. 

Yuja arrived on stage wearing a stylish, long, shiny, purple backless number with side slits à la cheongsam, bowing so low I thought her nose would hit the piano stool, immediately claiming the undivided attention of at least half the audience.  Klaus too cut a dapper figure. The single-movement music begins with a dawn scene not unlike that in Ravel’s ballet ‘Daphnis and Chloe’, the first theme emerging from the gloom on contrabassoon, characterfully played by Linn Cecilie Ringstad, and taken up by the higher pitched instruments rising in a crescendo. Lovely clear brass entries. The piano entry is dramatic and oriental-sounding, a cadenza, before the first theme is given a thorough treatment by the piano, the left hand singing in the treble and leaping to the bass register to comment, perfectly disguising the one-handedness of the execution.  Dynamic balance between soloist and orchestra was well-judged to the acoustic of the hall. A climax leads to a faster jazzy central section, a strutting dance alternating with bluesy comments. The interplay between solo piano and winds was so idiomatic that it sounded improvised. This melds into a developed fusion of the disparate elements heard so far and another, more ornate cadenza, fabulously articulated by Yuja.  A final build-up and the snappy coda closes the piece.  It is a piece that benefits from a strong artistic rapport between soloist and orchestra and that’s what it received. 

Yuja re-emerged for the 3-movement Concerto in G, clad in an elegant gown in EIF yellow.  Though the first movement is, if anything, even jazzier than the Left-Hand piece, it is a different style of jazz, more mannered, more urbane and more French, with a stylish snappiness and a soupy lyrical ‘bluesiness’ that need a different approach, and they got it.  Again, dialogue between the solo piano and the orchestra was precise and idiomatic – the notoriously fastidious Ravel would have approved. The first movement coda, as I may have mentioned before, makes it to the list of my top 10 codas.  But it is the slow movement, with its meditative piano soliloquy, hinting at private sorrows, consoled at first by flute and strings, yet mutual anxiety mounts to a troubled climax, which dissolves into an afterglow of mutual condolence.  It always raises a tear from me, but Yuja and the Norwegians caught it perfectly. I almost didn’t want it to end.  The finale, with elements of raucous French street music, a dash of drunken blues and some militaristic gestures is a romp from start to finish and got the full witty swaggering treatment. Thoroughly excellent. Soloist, conductor and orchestra were all fully ‘in the zone’ with this music and took us with them. 

I was delighted to see the harps placed at the front stage right as they were important in all pieces of the concert. The Shostakovich Fifth, “Soviet artist’s reply to just criticism”, starts boldly, almost defiantly, but is immediately shut down with three repeated notes.  It resumes, more quietly, after the second more lyrical theme, and the two are imaginatively developed together. Thus, he unambiguously contrasts the ‘public’ and ‘private’ persona of the artist and leaves us in no doubt which is real…Music of great tenderness is interrupted by the central militaristic episode, culminating in a march which collapses in a searching anxiety, rising to an explosive climax where all the themes are examined and crushed with discords.  After this trauma the tender music returns, the music ending quietly but enigmatically.  Fabulous playing from all.  The scherzo, a grotesque waltz with plenty of wry humour, relieves the tension but brings no joy.  The slow movement, the heart of the piece, is a study of solitude, private grief and trauma and seems to plead for release from pain.  It was played with great sensitivity and with a clear sense of the overall architecture of the work. The role of the harps is important throughout and their playing was very fine. The movement ends serenely in acceptance of the reality of life’s traumas. The finale was played attacca, roaring boisterously into a militaristic and ebullient empty triumphalism which quickly burns itself out and collapses.  A calmer, more considered introspection ensues and, when the opening theme returns, it is treated with a slower, quieter matter-of-factness, a hard-won self-knowledge and an element of gritty realism.  The closing pages have a veneer of triumph, but the observant will notice that the final cadence is only established after two failed attempts. The public Shostakovich presents the veneer, but those who are willing to look will find the private man and the contradictions and very human anxieties.  What I have described is the reading that Klaus Mäkelä revealed through the Oslo Philharmonic, a reading I share. The playing realised that vision perfectly in a very moving performance.  They are a great band and yet another catch for this year’s festival. 

Cover photo: Andrew Perry