A thoroughly Russian evening of musical passion was well received by appreciative patrons at the Thailand Cultural Centre on May 21, as the Royal Bangkok Symphony Orchestra once again richly benefited from the inspiring presence of high-flying international talent. Both still young but established in their fields, conductor Yuri Medianik and pianist Andrey Gugnin performed with such phenomenal bravura that this event will be remembered as a standout concert in this year's Bangkok calendar.
In an unusual, delightful touch of alternative programming, there was no orchestral overture, but rather in lieu of this maestro Medianik appeared on stage, not with his baton, but carrying a magnificent bayan (Russian button accordion) -- another proverbial string-to-his-bow. The house lights dimmed to set an intimate atmosphere in the cavernous auditorium as he coaxed the evocative G minor strains of Rachmaninoff's haunting Barcarolle from Morceaux De Salon from his instrument. Originally for solo piano, this arrangement is perhaps even more effective as a result of the bayan's highly seductive free-reed timbre, especially in the masterful hands of this virtuoso performer who has won numerous international competitions and spearheaded the recent revival of Russia's treasured national instrument.
Another feature of the bayan is its capacity for moving deftly between the most extreme dynamics and moods by manipulation of its huge bellows, able to transition from hushed stillness to roaring tempest and back again in a matter of moments. This trait of the Russian musical character which was then further fully explored in Rachmaninoff's imposing Piano Concerto No.3 In D Minor. The opening laconic texture of muted strings and unassuming piano octave utterances of the calm undulating theme always seem wholly pregnant with earnest intent, suggesting a monumental musical journey ahead, and indeed it was a lengthy 40 minutes later that the concerto finished with the most ecstatic of urgent codas, a constant accelerando propelling the music to its triumphant D major cadence at a furious tempo which challenged the entire ensemble not to succumb to helter-skelter chaos. Medianik, now with baton and executing the clearest of beats, ensured that this famous euphoric ending was together, and indeed it was apparent that a lot of careful preparation had gone into rehearsing the many difficult corners and entries of this complex concerto.
Incredible pianist Andrey Gugnin performed with a magnetism that drew the audience immediately into his world. A slender and tall figure, with powerful deep-set eyes which focused down laserlike onto the keys with a searing intensity, his shoulders hunched imposingly over the keyboard as he performed in a state of possessed concentration. The playing was, quite simply, dazzlingly note-perfect -- formidable technique, featuring occasional outbursts of demonic bombast balanced in equal measure by overtly sentimental indulgence and retrospection.
This work, written in 1909, has a well-deserved reputation as being among the most difficult to master, and was in fact the composer's own favourite. Gustav Mahler had meticulously rehearsed the orchestra for the concerto's second performance (over a century ago) out of respect for the importance of all details in the score, and Rachmaninoff never forgot this compliment to his own compositional genius. By virtue of its sheer pianistic demands, Rach 3 has a particular notoriety and aura surrounding it, as touched upon memorably in 1996 movie Shine, when troubled Australian pianist David Helfgott moves to the other hemisphere to study at London's Royal College of Music to battle his demons and conquer this fearsome concerto.
The legacy being that when a performance as polished as Gugnin's is experienced live, a long-lasting imprint is surely made on an audience. His rendition received instant roars from the crowd and a standing ovation lasting many minutes. One encore was a certainty, but such was the enthusiastic response to Stravinsky's Danse Russe (from Three Movements From Petrushka) that he returned yet again for another spectacular display -- the finale of Prokofiev's Piano Sonata No.7.
After the intermission, we were then treated to an authentically Russian account of Tchaikovsky's Symphony No.4 In F-Minor. Speaking of extra strings-to-his-versatile-bow, Medianik also trained as a prize-winning violinist at the Moscow Conservatory, and he drew from the RBSO's string section in particular a rich, deep, sonorous sound similar to what he must be accustomed to in his homeland. For the most part a conventional interpretation, two tempo decisions stood out as novel deviants. A very held-back Scherzo went against the clear Allegro marking, but was nonetheless very effective by virtue of the crystal-clear pizzicato string ensemble as the section resisted the temptation to rush.
The Coda to first movement was also noteworthy. Marked molto più mosso, Medianik instead chose to continue the same previous tempo and then accelerate gradually. As the audience were leaving the concert, one RBSO violin member could be overheard stating that he preferred this approach. Even the greatest of symphonic warhorses can still be presented in new ways.
