If there’s ever been a sterner and bleaker studio rendition of Brahms’ First concerto than Michael Korstick’s collaboration with Constantin Trinks and the Deutsches Symphonie-Orchester Berlin, I haven’t heard it. Think of the slow and snarly first movements in the Grimaud/Sanderling or Buchbinder/Harnoncourt recordings pumped up on steroids, and you’ll know what to expect.
The opening ritornello’s burnished brass tuttis pack quite a wallop, while the “in your face” timpani crescendos make those in the Christian Thielemann recording with Maurizio Pollini sound pallid by comparison. Korstick rarely modifies the composer’s tempo fluctuations, and for the most part declaims rather than sings out the piano part. Instead of a cascading torrent, the famous downward octave passage is an avalanche in slow motion. There’s no hint of Zigeuner-like swagger in the Rondo finale, although Trinks’ excellently delineated Fughetta sequence impresses, contrived diminuendos and all. Although the central Adagio moves at a snail’s pace, Korstick’s nuanced legato phrasing generates gripping harmonic tension.
Poetic warmth, playfulness, and charm have no place in the Korstick/Trinks Brahms Second concerto, let alone the gaunt transparency and lilt characterizing the orchestral contributions in the Serkin/Szell, Freire/Chailly, Gilels/Reiner, and Tirimo/Levi recordings. This is a serious, symphonic conception, where the meticulously executed small details serve the proverbial big picture. Again, the slow movement elicits Korstick’s most expressive pianism, where his interaction with the cello soloist and other first-desk players conveys a genuine chamber aesthetic.
Despite the recording’s wide dynamic spectrum and robust amplitude, a little more distance and sense of space around the instruments would have been welcome. Although I ultimately respect more than I enjoy these performances, Korstick and Trinks unquestionably realize their intentions, and, as such, deserve a fair hearing.
