A classic but alluring poster for the return concert of the Orchester de Paris, which invited the star Yuja Wang in Piano concert by Schumann under the direction of Michael Tilson Thomas. At 74, the director made his debut with the Paris phalanx at the Philharmonie. Perched on her eternal stiletto heels, the little Chinese fairy appeared in a spectacular luminous and semitransparent sheath, with rhinestones and sequins. Unfortunately, similar transparencies in the young woman's game revealed inevitable incompatibilities.
The winged touch and the musician spirit have certainly centered the center of the first movement, chamber dialogues between piano and wind, confirming the genius of the French wooden desks (the "talking" clarinet Pascal Moraguès). But he lacked the lyricism and feverish tone of Schumann the minor, and the instinctive anchoring of a heart of flesh placed back to life. So the delicate "Intermezzo", so difficult to animate when its theme seems to be limited to the jump of a jerboa on the sand, has remained deaf to the almost sentimental payment of the cello. That the "Finale" has embarked on a kind of forward flight, the musician has refused, despite extraordinary digital means, to play fair game with virtuosity.
Greasiness and vertigo
How not to be frustrated by these just cherished melodies, abandoned, by this rhythm of "Allegro affetuoso", which should free the energy of the only piano, reduced to Lilliput dynamics, avoiding to sing at full voice? They are not two BIS whispered Romance without words op. 67 nor 2 from Mendelssohn and then the Spanisches Liederspiel op. 74 nor 10 of Schumann reviewed by Tausig – that will change things.
In the second part, the Second symphony Brahms will happily confirm the spells unveiled by Michael Tilson Thomas (codename: MTT) in Roman Carnival by Berlioz, heard at the opening. From this piece of courage, we have seen more theatrically disgusting, otherwise heterogeneous or blurry versions. But the rebound of the dance, already in the introductory fanfare, the almost impudent creaminess of an English horn kneaded with nostalgia and even more the vertigo of a musical material built almost to write down, force admiration.