Given the total engagement in every bar of this recording, especially the vivid and varied characterization, one is left wondering why there appeared to be less of it in this team’s DG cycle of the Tchaikovsky symphonies (12/96). That Pletnev knows and loves this score was already obvious from his own piano arrangements of parts of it, and their recordings (Virgin Classics, 4/91, and now in Philips’s Great Pianists series, 10/98). And if ever proof was needed of the pianist’s ability to transfer completely intact to the orchestra his own special brand of fantasy and superfine articulacy, this is it. Hardly a minute passes without one’s ear being enchanted by an affective gesture of the utmost precision, poise and sensitivity (all the various solos are superbly done); and significantly, the now-familiar Pletnev ideal of the tactfully and revealingly balanced tutti does not result in anticlimax, as it did in some of the symphonies.
If you need convincing, try the last ten minutes of Act 2 – a symphonic impression of the 100-year sleep, owing not a little to Wagner in its methods and to something of the magical workings of Tchaikovsky’s own sea music for The Tempest – and ask yourself if you have ever heard it as atmospherically shaded; the subtle glints of Tchaikovsky’s wonderful orchestration as well caught; or the transition from static contemplation, through the kiss, to genuinely joyful activity, as well-gauged. A very special combination of all the right choices made as regards dynamics, tempo and differentiation of mood and, like so much else in this performance, a scene whose potential I cannot recall having been as fully realized as it is here.
The nearest rival from recent times is Gergiev and his Kirov Orchestra – on three discs, rather than Pletnev’s capacity-filled two – who is a little more vital and assertive in the busy ceremonials which open each act, and equally capable of captivatingly shaping the lyrical line, but occasionally prone to the rhythmic heaviness Pletnev always skilfully avoids, and without the same degree of general finish and exquisite gestural refinement. Gergiev’s recording (made in the Maryinsky Theatre) is an accomplished ‘expansion’ of the pit experience, but the strings, although full-bodied, lack colour and bloom. In contrast, the DG sound for Pletnev is as vibrant as you could wish, with deeper perspectives and a superbly managed ambience, with the ‘magical’ scenes bathed in the appropriate enchanted halo, yet the textures kept clear in the active, louder sections of the score. It is a fractionally more brilliant sound than DG supplied in the symphonies (at last, the timpani are fully in focus!) and if the cellos are occasionally obviously spotlit and the violins inclined to a very slight steeliness in their upper reaches (their lower ‘chest’ voices are as glorious as ever), there is no denying the expert matching of tone and body of these divided fiddles (the score abounds in antiphonal exchanges for them). Not an easy task with half of them pointing in a different direction. I suppose that if you are going to divide your first and second violin desks, the ideal would be to have a group of seconds who were all left-handed!
Good to hear the formidable partnership once again firing on all cylinders.'