Stephen Hough, piano
Sydney Symphony Orchestra
Hugh Wolff, conductor

Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto no 2 in G, op 44 has never achieved the immense popularity enjoyed by its predecessor. Arguably, it does not open with a show stopping melody like the B flat minor concerto and it is often criticised for its length. Although he considered this to be among his best works, Tchaikovsky agreed to minor cuts during his lifetime but refused major changes proposed by his pupil and friend Alexander Siloti. After the composer’s death, Siloti prepared a heavily revised edition in 1897 which introduced illogical cuts to the first and second movements. Unfortunately this version was presented in the concert hall and on recordings for much of the twentieth century.

Thanks to the efforts of recent advocates such as Peter Donohoe and Stephen Hough, we can begin to re-evaluate this oddly formed yet utterly fascinating work.

Hough clearly revels in bringing Tchaikovsky’s original intentions to the consciousness of today’s audiences. In the hands of a lesser pianist, this concerto could easily sound mechanical or, worse, bombastic especially in its lengthy virtuosic cadenzas of the opening movement. It is a credit to Hough’s musicianship that he was able to infuse subtle, graceful touches to the delicate passages amongst the powerful energy surrounding much of this work. By the end of the extraordinary first movement, the captivated audience applauded enthusiastically even before the final note was struck.

The second movement magically transforms the work into a triple concerto and features some of Tchaikovsky’s most exquisite writing. Violinist Dene Olding’s and cellist Timothy Walden’s lyrical partnership recalled the tender moments of Swan Lake while Hough provided chamber-like accompaniment  This is the heart of the concerto and its omission in the Siloti edition is truly unforgivable.

The finale was electric – taken at a lightening speed but without loss of balance or clarity – and brought the work to an exhilarating conclusion.

The orchestra provided strong support under Wolff’s sympathetic direction, with noteworthy contributions from the woodwinds and strings (shades of Eugene Onegin and Swan Lake in the first and second movements, respectively). The charming encore, Debussy’s La fille aux cheveux de lin, was another example of Hough’s exemplary sensitive phrasing and singing tone technique.

Post-interval, the spotlight fell on the Sydney Symphony as they took on Walton’s towering Symphony no 1 in B flat minor (1935). It is a demanding work with thick textures, and frequent shifts in mood and tempi. Led by Wolff’s impeccable sense of time and dynamics, the orchestra rose to the challenge and whipped up a fresh, dramatic and passionate approach to each of the symphony’s four movements.

The intensely layered and heartfelt slow movement – like the Tchaikovsky, but in a completely different setting – formed the emotional centre of the work. It was a clear highlight of the evening in a remarkable program. – Raj Gopalakrishnan