Tchaikovsky’s Concert Fantasy remains a concert-hall rarity. Its unusual structure stems from the composer’s reputed dislike of blending piano and orchestral sonorities: to avoid that clash, Tchaikovsky kept the forces largely separate, devoting most of the first movement to a massive, unaccompanied solo cadenza. Beyond a shared key of G major, the piece evokes the character of his Second Piano Concerto, with an unfailing optimism expressed through bravado and a pronounced balletic grace.
The flute section of the Sinfonieorchester St. Gallen, under Modestas Pitrėnas, projects that elegance with a rounded, mellow tone. What drives the Quasi Rondo is the dynamic interplay between instruments: the brass adds a martial edge while the strings bridge lyricism, gaiety, and virtuosity.
Pianist Lukas Geniušas commands the movement’s expansive cadenza with fearless assurance. He avoids empty showmanship; his fortes project real power, and every flourish serves a musical purpose. He is equally at home in the quieter writing, shading finely graded piano dynamics and finding a delicate, bell-like touch where the music calls for it.
The second movement, Contrastes, lives up to its name, moving through an eclectic array of musical personalities. It opens with an intimate, passionate duo for piano and cello, and it is the sharp juxtaposition of its episodes that lends the reading its volatility.
Liszt was only eleven when Schubert composed the original solo version of the Wanderer Fantasy, yet he returned to the work across his life, arranging it several times, most notably here for piano and orchestra (S. 366). Rather than reinvent the piece, Liszt scores it to bring out its thematic transformations, and the result sounds entirely natural in an ensemble setting.
In the Allegro con fuoco (track 3), the strings open up an expansive dimension absent from the solo original. Geniušas plays with evident restraint here, a marked shift from the thunderous dynamics he unleashed in the Tchaikovsky. The choice mostly convinces, though a few climaxes could take more weight.
Lukas Geniušas (© Jean-Baptiste Millot)
In the Adagio, Liszt leaves the material largely untouched until the halfway mark, giving the solo piano room to carry the movement’s gravitas. Geniušas delivers introspective chords that, however gently played, register with real weight, and the cello’s entry in the major-key section is a striking touch that eases the full ensemble back in.
The Presto sets piano and woodwinds together to amplify the score’s sprightly humor, both sides alert to each other’s articulation and dynamics. The strings add buoyant touches before turning into an unapologetic, driving force as the music intensifies.
Liszt’s transcription works because he knows when to leave the music alone: the large fugue that opens the final Allegro is impressive enough on solo piano and needs little intervention. Geniušas’s account may lack the thrilling urgency of Alexandre Kantorow’s recording of the solo version, but it holds the same authoritative character that made his Tchaikovsky so compelling. With the soloist’s presence firmly set, the ensemble’s entry a minute later enhances Schubert’s textures rather than robbing the piano of prominence, and it lands the extra punch the closing pages need.
Lyala Kandaurova’s liner notes add welcome historical and musical context, and the engineering gives piano and orchestra equal standing. This is a rewarding release, and one worth returning to.
Recommended Comparisons
Tchaikovsky: Concert Fantasy
Mikhail Pletnev | Stephen Hough | Peter Donohoe
Schubert / Liszt: Wanderer Fantasy
Alexandre Kantorow | Maurizio Pollini | Sviatoslav Richter | Alfred Brendel
Album Details |
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|---|---|
| Album name | Schubert/Liszt: Wanderer Fantasy · Tchaikovsky: Concert Fantasy |
| Label | Alpha Classics |
| Catalogue No. | ALPHA 1225 |
| Artists | Lukas Geniušas (piano); Sinfonieorchester St. Gallen; Modestas Pitrėnas, conductor |
