Concert photo, Priska Ketterer / Lucerne Festival
A sense of occasion distinguished Beethoven’s exposition – Is-dotted, Ts-crossed, dynamics subtle yet meaningful – keenly anticipating Seong-Jin Cho’s initial entry, confident, poised, clear-sighted, with some steely attack not often heard at those points, soloist and orchestra as-one, the latter dropping out (of course) for the regular composer-bequeathed cadenza, given by Cho with boundless, ink-still-wet vitality, contrasted with a spacious and confiding slow movement (during which the collaborators were of complementary quietness), and, while having a technique as complete as his, it might be tempting for Cho to sprint through the Finale, he was instead perky and fluid, focussed on reaching the dancing major-key coda to complete a reading of character and class.
The Bruckner was exceptional, cohesive yet painting pictures of mountains, valleys, forests, and nighttime vigils, reminding of Karl Böhm’s celebrated Decca/Vienna recording (first-released on two LPs, a movement per side) in its expansiveness, magnificence and transportation, played superbly by the Lucerners, horns, solo (Ivo Gass, Tonhalle-Orchester) and tutti especially impressive, woodwinds beguiling, strings of deep sounds. Of particular note was the second movement, very broad, coloured distinctively, followed by a fiery Scherzo and a lullaby-like Trio. The Finale, of volatile contrasts, leant on Robert Simpson’s adagio suggestion (Celibidache even more so) with the epic conclusion climbing from the depths to the heights with transcendental mystery and power, a masterclass in building a crescendo, greeted by a lengthy, approving silence, then rapturous applause as the conductor went through the ranks hugging various players.