PROKOFIEV: Piano Concerto No. 3 in C Major, Op. 26; BARTOK: Piano Concerto No. 2 – Lang Lang, piano/ Berliner Philharmonic/ Sir Simon Rattle – Sony Classics 8888 3732252, 60:40 (10-22-13) ****:
Lang Lang claims that his association with the C Major Concerto of Prokofiev (1921) extends back for sixteen years, his having performed the athletic work with Simon Rattle for the first time in 2007 in Salzburg. Lang Lang also admits himself an admirer of the recording Prokofiev bequeathed us with Piero Coppola, which “makes it more of a challenge for us!” Russian energy fused with a Parisian bravura nonchalance creates a thoroughly seamless facility of motion occasionally interrupted by a haunted nostalgia. Lang Lang and Rattle take the opening Andante – Allegro in large gulps, often reminiscent in their sterling muscularity of the renditions the classic performers Mitropoulos and Kapell could conjure for our awed audition. If the poetic side of Prokofiev seems too fleet and subservient to the percussive dynamic, time and temperament may adjust the pianist’s future excursions.
The second movement Andantino section, in fact, does reveal a dreamier temperament in Lang Lang, aided by sweetly nuanced response in the Berlin woodwinds. Of course, the succeeding five variations, moving through presto and marcato affects, display the unfettered virtuosity and pungent tonal palette of which Lang Lang is consistently capable. The Andante variation allows the theme to relax, surrounded in harmonic mysteries; until, Allegro giusto, the urgent sparkle of Prokofiev’s style emerges once more in full armor. Staccato, the ¾ theme of the finale (Allegro ma non troppo) in pizzicato strings and bassoon usher in Lang Lang’s martial and wickedly suave runs and declamations. Lang Lang insists that this movement move with a hustling abandon, at least until the tempo abates for the lyrical woodwind tune. A wonderfully mystical sound emerges from the Berlin strings and muted winds. The return of the opening materials acquires ever more fervent energy and sly humor, in direct contrast to the lyrical passion that has just passed. The high-voltage coda merely confirms the liquidly febrile character of this spirited rendition.
The Piano Concerto No. 2 (1931) of Bela Bartok wants to center on the key of G, but its modality often remains a question. A grueling exercise of the soloist, the work demands almost constant contrapuntal and percussive action at the keyboard, often in blistering motion. Lang Lang admires the late Geza Anda in this volatile work, whom he believes “gets right to the heart of this remarkable score.” Highly punctuated kernels mark the first movement, rife with fragmentary scales and shifting metric units typical of Stravinsky and aspects of Magyar folk music. The arch-form technique, essential to Bartok’s iconoclastic classicism, pervades all three movements.
Lang Lang quite literally lights up this resonant piece, exploiting its percussive coloration and scintillating runs for all their worth. The Berlin brass choir does its part, too, bestowing a regal, processional character on its blaring passages. The Adagio – among the many “night music” occasions in Bartok – basks in a lyrical, darkly hued intensity that might parallel emotionally what Beethoven achieves in his own G Major Concerto second movement. Here, piano and rolled tympani establish the air of mystery, a sound obviously antecedent to Bartok’s Sonata for 2 Pianos and Percussion. Combining slow movement and scherzo, the Adagio suddenly opens up with a driven, punishing Presto in which the hands must cover the octave in tone clusters while the winds skitter and twitter in wild motion. Typical of Bartok, the last movement (Allegro molto) renegotiates much material (except the opening theme) from the first movement in order to achieve his version of “fearful symmetry.” As Rattle points out in his commentary, the application of brilliant technique on the part of Lang Lang finds its artistic counterpoint in the degree of control he exerts: “You have so many notes, there’s so much going on, but you still need to have 100 per cent control in the slower passages.” Suffice it to say, Lang Lang will win new adherents for the Bartok Second Concerto as its colorful advocate, given this most youthfully ardent interpretation.
—Gary Lemco
