Emil Gilels in Concert (1983-84/2009)
Program: BEETHOVEN: Piano Concerto No. 3 in C Minor, Op. 37; GRIEG: Piano Concerto in A Minor, Op. 16; encore: Adagio movement –
Performers: Emil Gilels, piano/ Philharmonia Orchestra of London/Paavo Berglund
Studio: VAI DVD 4472
Video: 4:3; color
Audio: PCM Mono
Length: 86 minutes
Rating: ***** :
Two stunning showpieces from the artistry of Russian pianist Emil Gilels (1916-1985), captured in ravishing colors by the technicians at Finnish Hall, Helsinki grace this marvelous DVD.
The Beethoven C Minor Concerto (1984) with the Philharmonia Orchestra, on tour for the Helsinki Festival, certainly places the elegant pianist under the hot lights, but the up-side lies in the close camera work carefully attuned to the orchestral timbres. Clarinets, flute, basses, tympani, and strings collaborate for a stern forceful statement of the C Minor first movement, Allegro con brio, which perhaps best exemplifies Beethoven’s “second period” of development, in which lyrical and dramatic elements find the proper balance in his work. The later integration of the French horn with Gilels’ always-astonishing trill proves worthy of repeated witness. In the coda, an integrated shot over the left shoulder of the first violin captures Gilels, then it pans to the tympani as it begins that fateful tattoo to the rush of final flourishes.
The E Major Largo evolves as a strummed serenade, the keyboard matched against the flute and bassoon. A touch of playful intimacy informs the last pages, which the Helsinki audience absorbs in rapt silence. Sparks fly in the Rondo of the Beethoven, an Apollinian revel, piquant and deft. Scherzino episodes dance and caper in wild antic disposition, the middle section bowing to Gilels’ velvet paw. Berglund, ever the master of gestured understatement, savors the fugato, implying all the intensity he wants through his eyes and an occasional facial grimace.
The Grieg Concerto steals all the berries, as the audience from September 1983 well knows, their uninterrupted applause invoking a repeat of the entire second movement as an encore. Once again, the thorough coordination of camera work with orchestral colors visually fuses this amazing performance, in which Gilels savors his part in spite of the heated floodlights. Berglund emphasizes the romantic indulgent aspects of this score, with Gilels negotiating every phrase with a rounded, rhetorical fervor. The slow tempos intensify the ardor, to the point that Gilels’ cadenza becomes a sonata movement in itself, literally oblivious to the orchestral context. The bassoon prepares the “Eastern” ethic of the D-flat Major Adagio, which sounds and then dissipates into the aether. The transitions from oboe, flute, cellos and keyboard beguile and charm, especially given Grieg’s assortment of folk elements–minor seconds and falling thirds–that mark his essentially Norwegian style. The last movement incorporates halling influences, and Gilels again slows the tempo to bask in the lush harmonies of the middle section in F Major. In the final rush, Gilels’ left hand sets the bouncy tempo, and Berglund ushers in rich and vibrant assistance to round off a totally convincing rendition of this favorite concert, perhaps as close to a swan-song–bespoken by the carefully molded replay of the Adagio–that we have for the giant Gilels.
–Gary Lemco
