Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky: Piano Concerto No. 1 in B-Flat Minor, Op. 23
Antonin Dvorak: Symphony No. 8 in G major, Op. 88, B. 163
Conductor: Manfred Honeck
Piano: Seong-Jin Cho
After having to begrudgingly contend with a very late arrival at Termini (You gotta to admit that a one-hour-and-a-half delay is a bit much even by Italian railroad standards, no?), very high demand and very little supply at the taxi stand, and a relentless downpour that even the cheerful holiday lights inside and outside the station could not make up for, I can definitely say that my return to Rome earlier this month was less glorious than I had hoped for. On the plus side, things could only get better.
It took a while though, as The Eternal City was apparently targeted by a week-long biblical flood that only receded to give way to a Siberian cold spell for a couple of days, but hey, when things finally got back to kind of normal, the holidays were finally over, the year-long Jubilee was finally over, and the countless hordes of tourists and faithful were slowly but surely thinning out. And I had settled back in by then.
Even better, since my Neapolitan friend Vittorio was going to be in town for the talk about music and spirituality by the eminent journalist, writer and TV host, as well as former European parliament member, Corrado Augias and conductor, composer and pianist Aurelio Canonici at the Auditorium Parco della Musica Ennio Morricone last Sunday morning, not to mention a daytrip to Florence for the stunning exhibition about Fra Angelico on Monday, we figured that it would be the perfect opportunity to go hear some live music as well.
And that’s what we decided to do on Saturday evening, at the very same Parco della Musica at the totally civilized time of 6:00 PM, when the Orchestra dell’Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia would present, among other things, one of Pyotr Tchaikovsky’s biggest hits with his Piano Concerto No. 1, which would be interpreted by rising star Seong-Jin Cho under the baton of highly regarded Austrian maestro Manfred Honeck. I was finally feeling I was getting my Roman groove back.
As if to make up for the trying times I had had so far, the first live musical notes I got to hear this year belonged to the thoroughly delightful overture to Carl Maria von Weber’s Oberon, which happens to be widely considered the best thing about the opera. Although I still do not know the entire score, I very much enjoyed the piece's voluptuous Romanticism, enchanting melodies and intense drama.
Of course, when it comes to Romanticism, melodies and drama, it is hard to beat Tchaikovsky’s forever thrilling Piano Concerto No. 1, which after a debut viciously panned by the experts and eagerly embraced by pretty much everybody else, has seldom been heard by anybody it was not able to immediately sweep off their feet with its commanding opening, impossibly beautiful sounds and irresistible emotional appeal.
And sure enough, the magic operated flawlessly on Saturday night again as the endearingly understated Cho used his impressive technique and delicate sensitivity to skillfully calibrate virtuosity and elegance. The applause that rarely fails to spontaneously arise at the end of the uncompromisingly epic first movement was discreetly but successfully shushed throughout the sold-out auditorium by vigilant connoisseurs, and the brilliant performance went on unabated.
And that was not all. After being called back numerous times, Cho eventually sat back down at the piano again and treated us to an exciting little gift with Frédéric Chopin's ever-shifting Waltz No. 7 in C-Sharp Minor, Op. 64 No. 2, which was much appreciated by all.
After intermission, we were all back for Antonin Dvorak’s Symphony No. 8, a major staple of late Romanticism, which effortlessly extended the good mood brought by good music among good people. Dvorak’s popular composition is unabashedly vibrant, joyful, and optimistic, and the consistently excellent orchestra was in particularly fine form, so we all ended up happily basking in a delicious combination of sunshine and warmth that had been sorely lacking in our lives lately.
And then, just when we thought it was all over, maestro Honeck came back to wish us a Happy New Year with — Surprise! — my beloved Johannes Brahms's Hungarian Dance No. 1! That second and final special gift of the evening was so unexpected that quite a few concertgoers had already left, but the rest of us gratefully relished yet more uplifting Romantic sounds, livened up in this case with a healthy dose of zesty folk-dance flavor, till the very last note.
