As with his earlier release containing Prokofiev’s First, Third and Fourth Concertos, Olli Mustonen approaches the composer’s Second and Fifth with fresh eyes, ears and fingers, abetted by Hannu Lintu’s fastidious podium support. From the Second Concerto’s outset, you’ll notice Mustonen’s healthy yet intelligently proportion rubato, and his pulling inner voices out of the gently rollicking left hand accompaniment. As the movement unfolds, every detail seems to be have thoroughly vetted, from the Allegretto’s colorfully differentiated levels of detaché to one of the clearest performances of the dauntingly thick cadenza I’ve ever encountered.
Compared to the Scherzo’s bracing Vivace in the Yuja/Wang/Dudamel recording, Mustonen and Lintu take the Vivace Scherzo considerably slower than Yuja Wang and Gustavo Dudamel, yet achieve far more vivid, chamber-like interaction between soloist and ensemble and more pinpointed dynamic gradations. Not since the classic Baloghová/Ancerl recording has the third movement Intermezzo managed to convey massive heft and sparkling transparency at the same time, while the finale’s motoric sections make their musical points not so much via speed and volume as by finely honed balances, careful placement of accents within phrases and impeccable timing. Although I prefer the instinctive warmth that both Ashkenazy and Bronfman bring to the solo part’s pockets of lyrical repose, Mustonen’s slightly aloof control proves equally plausible.
If anything, Mustonen’s penchant for dry-point detaché articulations (aptly characterized by my colleague David Hurwitz as “Glenn Gould on steroids”) and Lintu’s laser beam projection of Prokofiev’s fleeting, mosaic-like scoring yield even more sparkling results in the Fifth Concerto, so much so that one can almost take dictation from the recording. Granted, the Richter/Rowicki version’s faster first movement tempo imparts more of a balletic lilt to the music, and the Ashkenazy/Previn recording’s wider dynamic range makes more of Prokofiev’s sudden sforzando jabs, together with the London Symphony Orchestra’s generally stronger first desk players (compare the latter’s third movement Toccata solo trumpet passages to their less assertive Finnish Radio counterparts).
These quibbles, however, take nothing away from a compulsively linear interpretation that, intentionally or not, underlines Prokofiev’s debt to Stravinsky. A fitting conclusion to a provocatively rewarding Prokofiev Piano Concerto cycle.
