Sergei Rachmaninoff (1873-1943)
Piano Concerto No. 1 in F sharp minor, Op 1 (1891, rev 1917)
Piano Concerto No. 4 in G minor, Op 40 (1926, rev 1928 & 1941)
Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, Op 43 (1934)
Piano Concerto No. 2 in C minor, Op 18 (1901)
Piano Concerto No. 3 in D minor, Op 30 (1909)
Yuja Wang (piano)
Los Angeles Philharmonic/Gustavo Dudamel
rec. live, February 2023, Walt Disney Concert Hall, Los Angeles
Deutsche Grammophon 486 4759 [2 CDs:148]

I learned from John Henken’s notes that this cycle of Rachmaninoff’s works for piano and orchestra was recorded when the Chinese pianist Yuja Wang played them with Gustavo Dudamel and the Los Angeles Philharmonic over two weekends in February 2023. He mentions that at the same concerts both The Bells and the Symphonic Dances were also performed; what a Rachmaninoff feast!

In this set, the Second and Third concertos are paired on the second disc with the remaining works on the other CD.

Let’s consider the works in chronological order. The First concerto is a remarkable achievement. It was completed and premiered in 1891 when Rachmaninoff was just 18 years old. What we hear nowadays – and as Wang performs it, of course – is a revised version which the composer made in 1917. Even though I’m sure he improved it with the benefit of some 26 additional years of experience as both a performer and a composer, the work must have been very precocious when it was first heard. (As I listened, I couldn’t help but call to mind Shostakovich’s First Symphony, an equally precocious student achievement, also by an eighteen-year-old.) In the first movement both Wang and the orchestra are equally successful in the stretches of impetuous music and in the more lyrical episodes – even in the work that he designated as his opus 1, we find that characteristic trait of melancholy which so permeates Rachmaninoff’s output. The cadenza (9:11 – 12:00), which accounts for almost 25% of the movement’s duration, mixes pyrotechnics and poetry; that’s true not only of the music but also of Wang’s performance. In the second movement it’s almost as if Wang is communing with herself in the opening solo. Thereafter, she and Dudamel make the movement into a beautiful melancholic reflection. In his recording, also for DG, with the Philadelphia Orchestra and Yannick Nézet-Séguin, Daniil Trifonov’s way with the movement is similarly lovely and thoughtful. I agree with David McDade’s view that the performance on that disc is “ravishing” (review). However, Wang and Dudamel adopt a somewhat more flowing tempo, which I like and which I think is closer to the spirit of an Andante; their performance plays for 5:48. Trifonov’s for 7:20. In the finale there’s a good deal of quicksilver brilliance in both music and performance. Having launched his finale brilliantly Rachmaninoff treats us to one of his trademark generous melodies, which the piano decorates lavishly (2:08 – 4:41); this comes off very well indeed here. The closing minutes are performed with real panache. 

In the Second concerto, Wang offers playing that is full of life. Needless to say, all the virtuosic writing is brilliantly accomplished but I was just as impressed by the empathy she shows for the lyrical episodes.  At the start of the slow movement, we hear beautifully phrased flute and clarinet solos as, in succession, the respective players duet with the pianist. In this movement delicacy is the main attribute that Wang displays but there’s also one brief passage of coruscating brilliance to remind us of her virtuoso credentials. The finale is also a success. The famous big tune is not overplayed, yet it is given satisfying treatment; both Wang and Dudamel are careful not to be over-indulgent. That said, when the tune has its last hurrah (9:42) it’s given the proper romantic treatment – but in a purposeful way, which I like. 

The mighty Third concerto has always presented a formidable challenge to any pianist who essays it. I note that David McDade was rather disappointed with the Trifonov account (review) and though I have that recording in my collection I decided against bringing it in for comparisons. It’s always struck me as wryly amusing that the first movement should open in a disarmingly simple fashion; it’s as if the composer is saying under his breath ‘just you wait’. Sure enough, it’s not long before Wang is immersed in the virtuoso writing, in which she’s terrific. Even in the lyrical passages she and Dudamel maintain momentum; this is a reading with purpose. Wang displays commanding brilliance and the orchestral contribution is excellent. Ms Wang gives a bravura display in the cadenza (10:26-12:01): at first, she unleashes the piano’s full power but, as the cadenza progresses, she brings out the poetry as well. In the episode that follows on immediately after the cadenza she and the orchestra members involved convey a lovely sense of intimacy. I enjoyed the second movement just as much. Here is rich romanticism, not least in the passionate climax of the movement, and throughout I really admired the imagination of Wang’s playing. In the quicker episode (7:25-8:18) she and the orchestra play with Mendelssohnian lightness.   The performance of the finale combines dash and brilliance with passionate lyricism. It seems to me that Wang is ideally suited to music such as this. Of course, she’s fully equal to the virtuosity but, as in her other performances, I’m just as impressed by her sensitivity: she’s so poetic in the passage (6:50-7:40) where the soloist duets first with solo flute and then solo horn. In the lead up to the concluding pages, Wang sweeps all before her in a dazzling display of pianism.

The Fourth concerto caused Rachmaninoff some angst in the sense that he felt obliged to revise it twice. The first movement has the composer’s trademark oscillation between passages of virtuoso brilliance and soulful melancholy. As she has done throughout these performances, Yuja Wang proves successful in responding to both aspects, as do Dudamel and the LAPO. This super, dashing performance compels admiration. The slow movement’s theme is mildly reminiscent of the nursery rhyme, ‘Three Blind Mice’, though I’m certain that’s sheer coincidence. John Henken suggests in his notes that there are traces of jazz influences; Rachmaninoff had come to enjoy jazz after he moved to the USA. The present performance is tender – apart from a brief, stormy episode – and Wang’s touch is exquisite. In the finale colourful virtuosity predominates in the music – and in the performance – but there’s also a pleasing episode (3:34 – 4:26) that requires a poet’s touch and this passage comes off well. The performance of the movement as a whole is dynamic and one senses the palpable delight that the musicians take in Rachmaninoff’s invention. It was my colleague, Marc Bridle’s great enthusiasm for Daniil Trifonov’s recording (review) that prompted me to buy it and to invest subsequently in his other Philadelphia-made recordings. Marc declared Trifonov’s account of the Fourth to be “the first truly great interpretation by a Russian pianist – and possibly any pianist – for many years”. I share his enthusiasm, though he’s surely heard many more rival versions than I have. It would be presumptuous for me to suggest that Wang’s recording is “better” – whatever that might mean – and I won’t attempt to do so, but I think it’s a very considerable performance and it’s one to which I’m sure will return often, along with Trifonov’s.

And so, to the Paganini Rhapsody.  Anyone who has seen or heard Yuja Wang’s dazzling account of the work at the BBC Proms in August 2023 (review) will know already of her brilliance in this score. (If you haven’t experienced it and have access to BBC Sounds you can hear it there until 30 days after the Proms season finishes; so, until late October.) These variations are so clever and resourceful; Rachmaninoff explored Paganini’s theme most imaginatively and gave it a thorough workout. It’s important to say that the orchestra plays a key role in this work; this is a piece for piano and orchestra. Under Dudamel’s direction, the LAPO makes a very fine showing. I love Wang’s lightness of touch in Variations 2 to 6, while she and Dudamel make Variations 8 to 10 exciting. Variation 11 is sensitive and thoughtful in her hands. Variation 12, the minuet, is taken quite deliberately and the result is demurely graceful. Variation 17 paves the way beautifully for the celebrated Variation 18, where Wang and Dudamel are careful not to peak too soon, though when the big tune reaches its climax, there’s all the romantic sweep you could wish for. Variations 19 to 21 sparkle and the final couple of variations are exhilarating, leading to a playful final payoff. This performance is a winner. My colleague William Hedley gave a warm welcome to Wang’s 2010 recording, coupled with the Second Piano Concerto (review). I’ve not heard that disc but I’m glad that I now have her latest version in my collection. It’s a minor disappointment that DG don’t track each variation separately in the way that they did for Trifonov’s recording (review). Incidentally, that Trifonov disc, which plays for 79:36, also includes the Corelli Variations, Op 42 and the Chopin Variations, Op 22; it is divided into an astonishing 73 tracks.

This is a very fine set. As I’ve indicated, there’s a great deal of thrilling, virtuosic pianism here but, equally, a different kind of virtuosity is frequently on display: the kind of virtuosity that produces sensitive, poetic playing. The catalogue is packed with top class versions of Rachmaninoff’s works for piano and orchestra; it would be foolhardy, even absurd, to suggest that one pianist’s traversals of all five works are “the best” and I’m not even going to try. Suffice to say that I’ve enjoyed and admired Yuja Wang’s performances greatly – not to forget the excellent contributions of Gustavo Dudamel and the LAPO. This is a set that will thrill Ms Wang’s many admirers and which will, I’m sure, win her new ones.   

The recorded sound is interesting. When I began my listening, I started with the Second concerto; I’m not sure why. However, in hindsight this threw up an interesting issue. I was struck at once by the depth and weight of piano tone as Wang plays the opening series of chords. When the orchestra joins in, I was conscious of a rather bass-heavy sound; the recording is big and bold with Wang in the foreground – though the orchestra is not relegated to the background. To be honest, the up-front recorded sound verges on being in-your-face, though it didn’t affect my enjoyment. However, when I listened to the other performances it didn’t seem to me that the sound was quite as up-front, though it’s consistently full-bodied. I wondered if this was just because my ears had adjusted but I made a point of returning to the Second concerto immediately after listening to several of the other performances and it does seem to have slightly different sonic qualities to the other recordings. Why this should be so I’m unsure, since the recordings were all made under what I assume were similar recording conditions.  It was interesting to compare this DG recording with the same company’s recording of the concerto, also made live, in which Daniil Trifonov is accompanied by the Philadelphia Orchestra and Yannick Nézet-Séguin and for which I share Marc Bridle’s admiration (review). There, the sound is not as bass heavy because the musicians have been recorded – by a different engineering team – rather less closely. This gives a more natural concert hall sound, as if one were listening from the centre stalls; many listeners may prefer that. All of these Wang recordings are more closely balanced than are those by Trifonov and this tends to emphasise the sheer dynamism of her playing. In the other four works, though the piano remains prominently balanced, I heard the orchestra to better advantage. Overall, I think the recorded sound suits and reflects the dynamic nature of Yuja Wang’s playing; it worked for me.

So, this is a fine contribution to the Rachmaninoff 150 celebrations. It would be very welcome if DG had recorded Gustavo Dudamel’s performances of The Bells and the Symphonic Dances from the same February 2023 concerts and could issue them on CD. That’s especially desirable since I’m not aware that a recording of The Bells is forthcoming as part of Yannick Nézet-Séguin’s cycle for the Yellow Label in Philadelphia.

John Quinn

Help us financially by purchasing from