From Brahms’ early struggle with form and legacy, through Arvo Pärt’s abrasive pre-spiritual compositions, to Stravinsky’s vividly narrative Firebird, the concert moved steadily from inward conflict towards outward transformation.
The night opened with Brahms’ Piano Concerto No. 1 in D Minor, a work that began life in the 1850s amidst professional doubt and personal crisis. The concerto’s ominous opening brought despair to the doorstep immediately, announced by a blasting orchestral start before settling into sweeping violins. Ollikainen guided the ensemble with careful attention to dynamics, allowing the drama to unfold gradually.
When Fujita entered, the piano felt like it floated on top of the orchestral weight. It was masterful and tender, his hands sliding over the keys like fabric.
Before playing a single note, Mao Fujita laid a handkerchief across the Steinway’s tuning pins and waited. And waited. The pause built pressure before a release that would again and again feel like a boxing match or wrangling of some immense adversary. That is, taming the sheer mass of the orchestra. When Fujita entered, the piano felt like it floated on top of the orchestral weight. It was masterful and tender, his hands sliding over the keys like fabric. But then, after, exertion was visible, his phrasing evidently very intense. At times, he struck the instrument and then retreated, only to return again with more weight.
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