Seong-Jin Cho plays Brahms with Noseda, NSO
I knew he had a following, but was still startled to see that Seong-Jin Cho is proving to be the biggest draw of the National Symphony Orchestra’s season. The hall was filled Thursday night, Friday’s performances typically outsell Thursday’s, and the Kennedy Center has already announced that there are no seats left for Saturday’s concert. The pianist, still in his 20s and an exclusive artist on the Deutsche Grammophon label, was somehow both unassuming and commanding in the granitic D minor Concerto of Brahms. He and NSO music director Gianandrea Noseda have worked together often, and he seemed to draw confidence from the conductor. He is anything but a show-off, even though he has show-off chops. Standing ovations for soloists are pretty much de rigueur at NSO concerts, but the audience was particularly enthusiastic last night.
For me, though, it was difficult to appreciate Cho’s best qualities, or any qualities, actually, because of the dreadful piano he was trying to finesse. I can’t say if this object was the same singing, even instrument that sounded so wonderful in the Ravel Concerto back in November, but if so, the Kennedy Center needs a different technician. At anything above a mezzo-forte, the instrument sounded like it had wrapping paper on the strings, and the tinny upper register evoked the toy pianos we were given as toddlers; I’m frankly surprised that Cho even agreed to use it. This needs to be addressed, like, yesterday; a battered upright from a rehearsal room in the bowels of the Opera House would be preferable.
Back to the performance, Cho’s finger work per se is other-worldly, but it did not always bring satisfying musical results. Trills were especially magical; the triple-trill at the end of the Adagio’s cadenza, the thunderous octave trills in the opening movement, and the darting sequence that leads into the finale’s coda. In all of these passages you can hear the greatest keyboard titans of the past struggle somewhat on recordings.
But delicious icing doesn’t mean a delicious cake. Cho was confident in everything he did, but he seemed to skate at times. I give him hearty kudos for not changing tempo (from the orchestra) at his first entry, as so many others do. But the opening of the finale was so fast that he couldn’t articulate the parallel sixths properly (two slurred and two staccato), and the big second-theme solo in the first movement turned a little hazy when the three-against-two rhythms got going (including his only missed note of the evening).
Cho’s playing in the Adagio was the most satisfying overall; the piano sounded ok in the middle register, especially at the softest dynamics, and Noseda, unlike in the outer movements, kept the orchestra underneath the soloist, allowing some gently expressive musical ideas to come through. (Elsewhere, the orchestral balances were as they so often are at NSO concerts; sustained notes in the winds and brass simply bury most of the important string lines; exacerbated in this piece by thunderous sorties from the timpani.) Noseda is a fierce, vivid conductor, who drills his orchestras to a high gloss. The music never drags, but it also rarely breathes.
Cho’s encore – the Brahms B minor Capriccio – was a bit Chopinesque for my taste, all the small tempo-changes precious and unnecessary. Virtuoso technique aside, this appearance was unfortunate due to the instrument he was saddled with and the overbearing accompaniment. His recital in the Terrace Theater a couple years back was immensely more satisfying.
After intermission came the Schumann “Rhenish” Symphony (No. 3). This is one of the great works in the canon, and the NSO was on its toes, Noseada his usual driven self. The first movement is a miracle of cohesion, blending a half-dozen motifs in what feels like an uninterrupted surge from beginning to end. However, finding a cohesive tempo is almost impossible. The ¾ time, one-in-a-bar pulse has to encompass very slow and very fast passages and give the impression of a steady through-line. Most conductors abandon the challenge and just adjust the tempo as needed; I give Noseada props for trying. But even if he had allowed the strings to be heard over the winds and brass (which he mostly didn’t), it was clear as a visual matter that the scurrying passagework was overtaxing the players.
There was some beautiful playing in the three interlude movements, and carelessness as well. Schumann’s expression markings are varied and precise, but there was not much differentiation (for example between an fp marking and a single-note swell, or “hairpin” marking). The awe-inspiring fourth movement, a depiction of the Cologne Cathedral, was supposed to begin pianissimo, a particularly stunning effect as three trombones are then deployed for the first time in the piece. Noseda just let them play out normally, seeming to care more about grandeur than the organic structure. The finale played to the conductor’s strengths, calling for energy and precision more than nuance and mystery. The NSO has some very fine players, and continues to improve.
The two massive works, by composers who knew and admired one another, made for a narrow program, but despite my quibbles there was a lot to think on and enjoy.
