Arts concert review

The BSO Ignites with Lisiecki on Mozart and Tchaikovsky’s Stunning Pathetique

Philippe Jordan conducts the BSO, solo pianist Jan Lisiecki performs Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 20 in D minor, and the BSO plays Tchaikovsky’s Pathetique in B minor

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Jan Lisiecki on piano in Mozart's Piano Concerto No. 20
Photo Courtesy of Winslow Townson

Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 20 in D Minor, Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 6 (Pathetique) 

Boston Symphony Orchestra (BSO) 

Conducted by Philippe Jordan 

Jan Lisiecki on piano 

Symphony Hall 

November 16, 2024

 

On the BSO’s home turf at Symphony Hall on November 14-16, the well-traveled symphonic conductor Philippe Jordan returned in grand style, leading the orchestra through two splendid pieces that are both minor in key, yet major in historical impact. Widely acclaimed Canadian pianist Jan Lisiecki joined as the piano soloist for Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 20 in D Minor. 

The concerto was nothing short of wonderful. Lisiecki’s virtuosic skill cradled Mozart’s timeless musicality with control and precision over texture and timing, toeing the complex interplay with the orchestra in a balanced and enthralling display. Truly, Lisiecki was a joy to listen to and to watch – especially in Mozart’s second movement titled Romance, where Lisiecki smiled as he played its gentle, sweet theme. 

Particularly commendable was the excellent balance between the piano and orchestra. Energetic chaotic sections of the final movement demonstrated this, as the aggressive orchestra hits and string shrieks darted between the piano’s intensification and constant relentless dives into sweeping runs over throbbing bass notes. The life of the piece was palpable through the breathlike rise and fall of loud and calm sections, sections filled with orchestral modifications of the theme passed between the strings and horn sections, then space occupied by the piano alone. 

The end of the Mozart piece faded into the audience’s applause, with Lisiecki returning to perform Chopin’s Nocturne in C Sharp Minor (Op. 20). His precise control over timbre and tempo was on full display, and perfect for the theme of the upcoming Tchaikovsky symphony. The brooding, ambivalent provocations of the nocturne opened with lovely minor key arpeggios over a constant bass motif,  introducing the feeling of conflict and impassioned yearning that underscored the following symphony.

Tchaikovsky’s Pathetique has a particularly poignant history around it. The Pathetique, or Sixth Symphony, was first performed only nine days after his death. Almost too coincidentally, a note found after his death labeled the main plan of the sixth to be ‘LIFE.’ Such a tale, imbued with the circumstances of Tchaikovsky’s personal life, and quotes from him declaring the symphony as his ‘most sincere’ and loved work, set the stage for numerous theories about its meaning. Even without the context, however, the symphony commands rapt attention and enthralling intrigue.

The stage was rearranged, with Jordan now clearly central at the front instead of the solo pianist. The conductor’s particular gestures were in full view: small, rhythmic hand movements directed at various orchestra sections during quieter sections as if picking cherries; then, wider sweeping moves in which the piece swelled with grandiose layers of sound. The first movement began with the low bassoon meandering through a brooding melody, a solemn quiet to which the piece returned several times as a sober departure from the more complex sections. This creates a pensive mood which contextualizes the conflict Tchaikovsky represents through the symphony. The low rumble of the bass strings seemed to pull the arrangement together as the orchestra entered, bounding into allegro tempo beneath airy strings singing an almost romantic melody. 

Perhaps the most impressive aspect of the performance’s first movement was its ability to convey the yearning and calling. The wind section was focused heavily in carrying the melody and creating internal conversation between the flute and clarinet. In an unforgettable moment in this opening movement (perhaps reminiscent of Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture, which called for five cannon blasts), the timpani and brass sections ignited suddenly, startling some of the audience who had been led into the momentary calm and quiet of the piece. Here, and for much of the rest of the piece, the bass strings and wind sections shone brilliantly. Anxiety built as the bass marched along, and the strings adding to the growing thunder — and then the piece teetered off this edge of heightened suspense to a constant calm tone. 

As a sweet reprieve from the hard clashes of conflict, the delectable waltz of the midsection with contented, syncopated melody was wonderfully executed. But again, as the piece soared energetically with new melodies reverberating through the lines, the urgency built to a breaking point. The minor refrain seemed to burst and the chorus teetered with repetition, even with the timpani leading the melody. The end of the piece gently faded, like the final burning embers of a fiery life, held by the bassoon and strings: small, lamenting and hushed to almost a whisper.

The excited audience reaction matched the truly splendid display of the program, with the Tchaikovsky piece garnering cheers for the wonderful wind and brass sections, and sparking conversations beyond the event.