Arts & Events

French pianist Hélène Grimaud joined the Rotterdam Philharmonic Orchestra led by Yannick Nézet-Séguin in two performances, Sunday-Monday, February 15-16, at Davies Symphony Hall. Monday evening’s concert, which I attended, featured two works by Maurice Ravel, Ma Mère l’Oye/ (Mother Goose) Suite and the Piano Concerto in G-Major, as well as Sergei Prokofiev’s Symphony No. 5 in B-Flat Major.  

Ravel originally composed his Mother Goose Suite as piano music for four hands, with child musicians performing the work at its première in Paris in 1910. In 1912, Ravel revised his score for a ballet-divertissement; and from this emerged the orchestrated Mother Goose Suite played here by the Rotterdam Philharmonic Orchestra. The various episodes of this suite are based on some of Charles Perrault’s Contes de ma Mère l’Oye (Mother Goose Tales). This work features a fairy-tale sound-world of exotic orchestration and delicate melodies, including an episode entitled Conversations of Beauty and the Beast, which was heralded by Claude Roland-Manuel as « a fourth Gymnopédie, » a reference to Eric Satie’s Trois Gymnopédies of 1888. (I attended Roland-Manuel’s lectures in 1967 on French music at the Sorbonne and prevailed upon him to create a discographie of recordings he played to illustrate his lectures. I have very fond recollections of Claude Roland-Manuel.) 

Next on the program was Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G-Major, with the 46 year-old Hélène Grimaud as featured soloist. Ms. Grimaud came on-stage dressed all in white, wearing white cotton slacks, a loose-fitting white ruffled blouse, and white shoes. With a quick nod to conductor Yannick Nézet-Séguin, with whom she has frequently collaborated, Hélène Grimaud seated herself at the piano and awaited this work’s opening percussive snap, which was immediately followed by a cheerful piccolo tune with piano accompaniment. Then the piano initiated a bluesy jazz-inflected melody which was developed in various shades of blue by orchestra and piano until a harp was heard, thus signaling the moment for a lengthy piano solo passage, beaut-ifully played by Hélène Grimaud. This first movement then quickly closed in bright, up-beat fashion. 

The second movement, an Adagio, begins with the pianist playing a long un-accompanied melody that seems to flow endlessly in the right hand over a slow, waltz-like bass figure in the left hand. The mood here, languorously played by Hélène Grimaud, is dreamy, lyrical and pensive. Eventually, the piano’s melody is seconded by a discreet flute, then by diverse woodwinds, until the English horn sings the same sublime melody accompanied by pianistic trills. Then, somewhat surprisingly, the movement lurches into a boisterous mood that closes this serene Adagio. The third and final movement is marked Presto, and there are recollections of the initial theme from the first movement, with the piano now staking out its territory as the soloist leading the orchestra. Trombones and bassoons then assert their presence with insistence, until a percussive crack reminds us of the work’s opening, and the finale closes with the same bass drum thump that ended the first movement. 

Hélène Grimaud’s inspired playing brought out all the light-hearted brilliance and charm of this concerto that Ravel said was « written very much in the same spirit of those by Mozart and Saint-Saěns. As encores, Ms. Grimaud was joined at the piano by Nézet-Séguin in playing a four-hands version of two waltzes by Johannes Brahms.  

Hélène Grimaud is such an individualistic pianist that a word or two must be said about the impression she creates on-stage. With her poise, beauty, and rock-solid affirmation of a strong-willed interpretor of music, Hélène Grimaud seduces listeners, especially male listeners like me. She seems – and no doubt is --a well-grounded, vibrant, radiant, and intelligent woman. Author of three books, Grimaud is a human rights advocate and founder of an organization for the conservation of wolves, which she raises on her northern Westchester County property in New York.  

Yet beneath this solid exterior, Hélène Grimaud has acknowledged there lies a troubled child, a rebellious teenager, and a cantankerous musician who has stood up to her former mentor Claudio Abbado by insisting that she – and not he – had the right to decide which cadenza she would record in Mozart’s 23rd Piano Concerto. In short, this is a rare human being, one who, as she acknowledges, has gone through innumerable love affairs and always come out on the other side knowing clearly that it was over and time to move on. So beware, you audience members like me, who are easily seduced by Hélène Grimaud’s extraordinary radiance and grace. It comes with a risk and a duly exerted price. Were I 20 years younger, however, I’d take the risk and damn the price. 

After intermission, The Rotterdam Philharmonic Orchestra returned to play Sergei Prokofiev’s Fifth Symphony in B-Flat Major. This work, begun in 1944, is considered Prokofiev’s greatest symphonic masterpiece. I demur, however. In my opinion, it is a bombastic piece with little to recommend it. The first movement is to me a cacaphony of bombast. The second movement offers a wryly ironic introductory tune which is quickly developed into a frenzied gallop that emerges into yet another bombastic finishing touch that concludes with a bang. The third movement begins as a slow movement, almost a funereal cortege. But it builds to an emotional climax that is yet again bombastic. Eventually, as this movement comes to a close, the music thankfully returns to a whispered pianissimo.  

The finale, predictably, runs straight ahead towards a rousing, over-the-top finish. I have nothing good to report about this work or its performance by the Rotterdam Philharmonic Orchestra other than to say that Yannick Nézget-Séguin gave himself a great workout by energetically conducting this demanding piece. Aside from that, I found myself wishing the program had offered this Prokofiev symphony before intermission and saved the sublime Ravel concerto played by Hélène Grimaud until the end. That would have offered a far more fulfilling climax to the evening’s music.