Nelson Freire, piano – Works of FRANCK & SAINT-SAENS
Program: FRANCK: Symphonic Variations; SAINT-SAENS: Piano Concerto No. 2 in G Minor, Op. 22 – Nelson Freire, piano/Orchestra della Svizzera Italiana/David Shallon
Studio: VAI DVD VAIA 4409
Video: 4:3; Color
Audio: PCM mono
Running Time: 41 Minutes
Rating: ****
Taped 7 October 1983 in gorgeous color, this fine, live concert features Brazilian virtuoso Nelson Freire, winner of the Dinu Lipatti Medal, in two Gallic staples. His collaboration with David Shallon in the Franck Symphonic Variations (1885) shimmers with affection, and even the camera-work lingers over Freire’s runs and trills with rapt attention. The music graciously divides itself into three sections, mostly in F-sharp Minor, that will later end triumphantly in F-sharp Major. Some tender shots of the basses, cellos, and violins, as they play softly in the middle section, with Shallon’s putting an index finger to his lips to indicate more intimacy. The last section moves into a kind of rumba, and Freire demonstrates all sorts of panache at the keyboard, without any sort of gratuitous movement or gesture on his part. The Italian-Swiss brass conjure some pungent chords to give the final page a decided flair-filled bite.
The Second Concerto of Saint-Saens is a natural display piece, both suave and ostentatious at once. Freire opens with a Bach-style prelude that builds to the orchestra’s first chordal entry along the G Minor scale. The oboe takes the lead while Freire plays ostinati with sultry detachment. The ensuing mix of brilliant piano filigree and orchestral antiphons proves diaphanous and energized until Freire’s deft cadenza, which has the entire concert space, musicians included, in thrall. The second movement Scherzo in E-flat Major, moving between the keyboard and the kettledrum, takes its cue from Chopin’s E Major Scherzo, but it has an éclat and brio entirely its own. Freire’s technique is polished glass, impeccable, clear, his crossed-hand filigree note-perfect. The wild last movement is a tarantella that hops, skips, and jumps like a demented acrobat. The G Minor triplets pose no deterrent for Freire, who negotiates the dance with brisk authority; and Shallon and ensemble seem to be having a fine time. The audience breaks into spontaneous applause, and so do we, our only regret having been the relatively brevity of our encounter with artistic excellence.
— Gary Lemco
