A Rachmaninoff concert evokes feelings of sadness and despair through soulful music, writes Syida Lizta Amirul Ihsan
A CLEAN slate works wonders when it comes to appreciating arts. Without preconception or expectation, the mind is open to learn new things. You can’t be let down if you don’t have a perceived outcome.
That was me when I went to catch Dewan Filharmonik Petronas’s Rachmaninoff Rocks performance at Dewan Filharmonik Petronas in KLCC, Kuala Lumpur, recently.
“What’s his music like?” came the question before we entered the hall.
“I don’t know,” I answered. Apart from knowing the composer was Russian, I had no inkling of how his music was, whether it was as soft as Bach, as vibrant as Vivaldi or as robust as Mozart.
Sergei Rachmaninoff (1873-1943), comes up third when you type Sergei on Google search — the first is criminal Mavrodi, the second, Brin, who founded the search engine.
Music-wise, Rachmaninoff was perhaps Russian’s most well-known modern composer, largely due to his aristocratic background which lent him the connection to earlier compositions by Tchaikovsky and Dvorak. His composition, The Rock (1893), is a departure from classic compositions by European composers. The well-crafted 18-minute piece sounds like a movie soundtrack which will not be out of place in an intergalactic storyline.
Under the helm of conductor Michael Francis, the melodious piece built up to evoke feelings of sadness, anger and despair. The evocative component of the composition wasn’t surprising considering The Rock was inspired by the story by Anton Chekhov, Russian’s literary giant and his tale, On The Road, about the fleeting encounter between an older man and a younger woman.
COMPOSITION HISTORY
The understanding of Rachmaninoff’s composition can be enriched by understanding the political surroundings of Russia during his time.
Often seen as the bridge between classic romanticism and modern music, Rachmaninoff’s aristocrat background, while giving him a privileged headstart in music, was the reason he fled Russia following the Russian Revolution in 1917, to Denmark, followed by New York a year later.
The second composition of the first set, Piano Concerto No. 4 in G major, narrated the evolution of Rachmaninoff’s composition style between 1900 and 1926, until the fourth concerto was completed.
The star of the show was solo pianist Alain Lefevre, whose powerful performance with the piano was very moving and soulful. Without sweeping melodies and climaxes concertos were often characterised by, Lefevre delivered a show that merged his solo performance with the rest of the orchestra instruments in an integrative composition that included everyone.
MUSICAL RIDE
By the time the audience reached the second half of the show, the 39-minute Symphony No. 3 in A minor, I had already enjoyed the musical ride. That I did not know what to expect gave me a chance to be surprised. But this composition, written less than a decade before his death in 1943, brought the crowd back to pre-revolution Russia with sad and defiant tones. Again, the inclusion of almost all the orchestra instruments made for a different but no less exciting performance.
Solo horn, clarinet and flute all made their appearances in this symphony, which was one of Rachmaninoff’s well-received works after he left his homeland.
It had been said in writings about the composer that he always had his heart in Russian aristocracy — its music, culture and appreciation of the arts and perhaps, this composition brought out that colourful Russia he left behind and the image of his homeland that lived in his memory.
The performance was a short journey through Russia, through the eyes of one of its illustrious sons, one drenched in emotions and feelings — woven into the rich history of the land.