The Perfect
Piano Concerto
I love piano concertos, and I have probably heard at least a hundred of them in my lifetime. There's something about piano concertos that make me feel good,
probably because I was a piano player myself.
Piano concertos, for the most part, have a specific format. They're almost always three movements. The first movement is supposed to capture your attention,
bring a spark into your soul, and make you want more. The second movement is supposed to touch your heart, make you evoke an emotion of either sadness
or romance or peace. The third movement is supposed to leave you breathless, wake you up and make you leave wanting to do great things with your life.
There are many piano concertos which are very good. However, there isn't one piano concerto that's perfect. There are a few that are close, but not one that,
in my opinion, you can listen to throughout and say "Yes, that's it; my life is now complete." At least that's my opinion. So, if I may, I'm going to put together
what I consider to be the perfect piano concerto, then talk about the one that comes the closest to attaining perfection.
The best first movement in the world comes from Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky's
First Piano Concerto in B-Flat Minor. This movement is so supreme that many audiences around the world, even though they know better, stand up and
give standing ovations at its completion. It starts out with a four note theme that's absolutely dynamic, then builds upon it throughout the early stages of
the movement. Along the way, he introduces a couple more themes, one of which gets revisited in the third movement, and they all interweave with each
other with such force and emotion that it leaves the listener almost breathless by the time it finally ends. It's considered one of the hardest movements to
play by any pianist.
The best second movement in the world comes from Sergei Vasilievich Rachmaninoff's
Second Piano Concerto in C Minor. I was first introduced to this beautiful piece of music courtesy of Eric Carmen's song
All By Myself back in 1975. This movement makes you want to put your arms
around the person you love the most and just hug them with all you have within you. It starts out slow, of course, but then the merging of piano and strings
comes in, and it works so well that, if you're not careful, you'll be crying and not knowing why. He introduces another theme at some point in the
movement, a little faster than normal for a second movement, but it works, and this movement closes in a grandiose style that's unmatched by any other
second movement I can think of. And it's probably one of the most difficult second movements to play; Rachmaninoff must have had large hands, because
I struggled to hit all the notes when I would try to play it.
The best third movement in the world comes from Sergei Sergeyevich Prokofiev's
Third Piano Concerto in C major. I was introduced to this wonderful piece of music through the movie
The Competition in 1980, and was astounded in seeing how they had one of the lead
characters playing it. I have seen it performed three times live, and only once did I see someone play it as
Amy Irving portrayed it. It begins choppy, totally against the norm, and suddenly the
power of this movement pops in and makes you sit up in your seat and take notice. Prokofiev referred to it as an "argument between the piano and the
orchestra", and it's a very accurate description, as it seems that they're engaged in an epic battle, blow for blow, slugging it out until the very end. As a
matter of fact, if you watched boxing in the 80's, this one reminds you of the first
Sugar Ray Leonard / Thomas Hearns fight in 1981,
where the only difference is how each ends. What's funny about this concerto overall is that it wasn't received well when it was first performed, and is
now one of the most revered pieces of music in the world. It's almost hard to believe that the same man who composed Peter and the Wolf composed this.
Having put together what would be the perfect concerto, we now come to what I consider the most complete piano concerto in the world. That piece would
be the
Fifth Piano Concerto in E Flat Major, known as the Emperor Concerto. Mozart may have established the initial format for piano concertos, but Beethoven
established what piano concertos were supposed to be, and set the standard that every composer afterward hoped to achieve. What makes this concerto so
perfect is that Beethoven is the master of thematic composition, or motifs, which makes sense since he's the one who started it. Of course, Beethoven's
also allowed to break the rules, and this one does, as the piano is prominent immediately after the opening chords, not waiting for the orchestra to establish
the theme until the soloist has had a chance to attain superiority. Beethoven was always the master builder, and after the first theme is introduced, then
improvised on in many different ways, he introduces a second theme and does the same thing, yet comes back to it at the end of the first movement.
The second movement is absolutely beautiful, much more calming and reflective, but talk about anticipation; the piano doesn't enter until the orchestra has
been playing at least 90 seconds, and when it does enter, it's so muted and soft that you're not sure whether it's ever going to do justice to the first
movement. The second movement is more like the second movement of one of his piano sonatas that, as an afterthought, had an orchestral arrangement
attached to it, and yet, the soft contrapuntal nature of each within the last few minutes of the movement are exactly what other composers tried to
emulate, giving you time to take a deep breath, yet preparing you for what will be a raucous finish. As a matter of fact, doing something quite startling,
Beethoven actually introduces the theme to the third movement with the last few notes of the second, such that it doesn't even seem that there was time
for that last breath to be released before we're launched into the final movement.
And the final movement begins like a galloping horse, as the piano and orchestra alternate in playing the same theme, then adding two other themes
throughout the movement, sometimes playing together, sometimes separately, yet echoing each other perfectly. Quite often, it returns to the main theme
before going further into its exploration of other themes. But, near the end, it slows down like a female gymnast getting ready for that final tumbling run
on the mat, then unleashes its final notes, the final run, and, like the gymnast, lands perfectly after the final twists and turns, aiming for that elusive
10, yet settling for a 9.9, which is just enough for the judges to award this concerto the gold medal.
Of course, there are so many other choices out there, and everyone will have their favorites to mention. But these are my choices, and, in my opinion, you
can't go wrong with any of them.
