On a Brahms journey with Simon Trpčeski

On November 10, Macedonian pianist Simon Trpčeski joined Romanian Radio National Orchestra and conductor Nicolae Moldoveanu to open this season’s celebrations of the 190th birthday of German composer and pianist Johannes Brahms. The gargantuan Piano Concerto No. 2 in B-flat major, Op. 83 and the sunny Symphony No. 2 in D major, Op. 73 were the two compositions chosen for the Brahms evening.

So many things to say about Simon Trpčeski. I’ll begin with his award-winning discography that includes repertoire such as Rachmaninoff complete works for piano and orchestra, Prokofiev, Tchaikovsky and Shostakovich piano concertos. He has also recorded accoladed albums with music of composers such as Chopin, Bach, Schubert, Poulenc, Debussy, Ravel, Liszt, Stravinsky, Scriabin, Mussorgsky, Rimsky-Korsakov.

What really caught my eye was the fascinating “Tales from Russia” album that includes Prokofiev’s delightful Tales of the Old Grandmother and another two pieces of which are heard in unfamiliar guises as works for piano solo: Mussorgsky’s Night on a Bare Mountain, in the arrangement by Rimsky-Korsakov, and the latter’s Scheherazade. I’ll use this as an excuse for another conversation on Russian classics.

In 2023/24, Simon Trpčeski is Artist-in-residence with both the Royal Scottish National Orchestra and the Orchestre Philharmonique de Monte-Carlo. The Scottish residency will focus on Saint-Saëns with performances of his piano concertos #2 and #5 with Thomas Søndergård, also to be recorded. Looks like he’s not done yet.

A natural music explorer, Simon is also committed to strengthening the cultural image of his native Macedonia. His chamber music project Makedonissimo is dedicated to introducing audiences worldwide to the rich traditional Macedonian folk roots. Having been a professor for 11 years at the Faculty of Music at the University of St. Cyril and St. Methodius in Skopje, he works regularly with young musicians in Macedonia nurturing the talent of the next generation of artists. In 2011, he became the first-ever recipient of the title “National Artist of Macedonia”.

One can tell music just flows out of him. He has a very natural approach to the score. With his Brahms #2, I witnessed one of those rare moments when such complex music seems to unfold organically. Everything felt so friendly. Loved the almost dancing moments in between the passages. A perfect visual illustration to the fourth and final movement, the sunniest, most graceful and probably my favorite part of the whole. Without showing a hint of effort or fatigue after the Brahmsian emotional extremes, he played two encores — Walzer As-Dur Op. 39 No. 15 by Brahms and the hauntingly beautiful October: Autumn Song from Tchaikovsky’s Seasons, which was a message of peace. Its simplicity perfectly counterbalanced the acrobatic difficulties of Brahms. Andante doloroso e molto cantabile — a perfect description for my emotional chords and a perfect reminder of why I love Russian composers so much.

Born in 1833 in the mid-Romantic period, Brahms looked both backward and forward. Compared to the innovative style of Liszt or Wagner, the so-called New German School, one would say that his music was conservative. He chose the stricter conventions of the classical school without neglecting the ideals of Romanticism. He venerated Beethoven to the extent that his First Symphony was dubbed “Beethoven’s 10th”. His early music career was as a concert pianist, that’s how he gained attention from Robert and Clara Schumann, who were to befriend him.

An interesting coincidence is that Brahms’s Piano Concerto No. 2 received its premiere (with Brahms himself at the piano) on November 9 in 1881. Just one day (and few years) before Mr. Trpčeski’s performance in Bucharest, which happened exactly on the release day of the Brahms album that he recorded for Linn Records alongside Cristian Măcelaru and WDR Sinfonieorchester.

The concerto has four movements rather than the conventional three and of all piano concertos, it is the one that comes closest to a symphony. Every time I listen to it, I remember about these dreamy Brahms pairings: Krystian Zimerman & Leonard Bernstein with Wiener Philharmoniker and their famous recording of both concertos in the same evening at the Musikverein (1983); Daniel Barenboim alongside Münchner Philharmoniker under Sergiu Celibidache (1991) and last but not least, Radu Lupu’s surreal recording of the First Piano Concerto with the London Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Edo de Waart. In a rare interview, Lupu said: “The decision has nothing to do with music I like, but rather music that likes me. I love Chopin, but when I play it, it has always sounded like Brahms or something. I play it more for myself.”

Can’t believe I forgot to mention the famous, “rather unorthodox” 1962 performance of Concerto No. 1 by Glenn Gould with Bernstein conducting the New York Philharmonic (with a strangely stretched out tempo, probably the most romantic Gould has ever been — know what I mean?!).

You’ll see further into our conversation that Simon also mentioned Claudio Arrau’s monumental approach to the Brahms concertos. I’m glad he did, made me turn to Arrau’s reference recordings with Carlo Maria Giulini and Philharmonia Orchestra (1960 & 1962, London). Bedrock security and spellbinding artistry. A valuable memento of one of the 20th century greatest pianists.

Understanding Brahms is a great deal and I want to thank Simon Trpčeski for taking the time to talk to me and especially for joining me in searching for a lost, idyllic past. Who wouldn’t love German Romanticism?! We imagined Brahms clean-shaven through his First Piano Concerto then we moved to the gruff, bearded figure of his later years through his Second Piano Concerto. We also discussed historical recordings, interpretive freedom, live recording versus studio recording, and Romanian audiences.

Simon will reunite with Gianandrea Noseda and the London Symphony Orchestra in December for performances of both Brahms concertos in the same week at the Barbican. I wish him the best of luck with his future performances!

Reading our conversation now, I remembered about Haruki Murakami’s Absolutely on music: Conversations with Seiji Ozawa — a series of talks about music and writing. I would love to question musicians about their careers whilst listening to and dissecting recordings of some of our favorite performances. With a bit of luck and a bit more time at our disposal, maybe one day this idea will eventually turn into a book.

Thank God for great music and for great conversations! May we know them, may we be them! Thank you, Simon Trpčeski!

You are going to play Piano Concerto No. 2, Op. 83 by Johannes Brahms alongside Romanian Radio National Orchestra under the baton of Nicolae Moldoveanu. Brahms has been considered both a traditionalist and an innovator. How would you describe Brahms’s music?

It’s exactly the way you described it: both traditional and innovative. Brahms was a composer who, obviously, loved and remained faithful to some of the traditional views towards the musical forms, yet he extended them quite a lot through his ways of expression. The piano concertos are a very good example, because he wrote them almost as symphonies. In that sense, we can hear his moments of true, sort of struggle with the exploration of the musical material and its development in the First Piano Concerto, whilst the Second Piano Concerto goes more smoothly, is more flowing as a compositional process if I can say. Brahms studied the music of his predecessors, he learned from the composers before him, he showed great respect for his contemporaries as well, yet, of course, like every composer, he tried to find his own expression. The choice of the melodies, his meticulous craftsmanship, his ability to blend romantic harmonies with classical forms through the choices of orchestration; we are now talking about his piano concertos, which are basically symphonies with piano, but also in other orchestral works, one can definitely see the innovative way of thinking… not even to mention about the expansion of the piano technique, the big chordal structure in combination with the themes, the way he put everything together is really impressive! At that time, to make this kind of compact and vast orchestral sound out of the piano alone is certainly something worthy of huge respect. It is with a reason that he is regarded as one of the most beloved composers.

The striking contrast between a youthful work and a mature one — Brahms’s two piano concertos are very different. The first, written when he was just 25, is full of drama, whilst the second, written 22 years later when Brahms was a mature composer at the height of his abilities, is very demanding, yet exquisitely songful. They’re both longer even than Beethoven’s “Emperor”.

How would you describe each of the concertos and which one do you prefer and why?

Tough question! I really cannot choose one over the other. As you have said, they’re very different. The First Concerto passed through many different forms during the compositional process. Brahms had several attempts to the themes that were coming to him in different forms, for piano solo, for two pianos and so on, after the devastating news that he heard about the suicidal attempt of Schumann, who was his guru… he was, of course, deeply affected by that and we can hear that right from the beginning of the stormy start of this concerto, which was very much innovative, talking about the previous question, something that was absolutely shocking for the audiences at the time. Its orchestral opening feels like a long, psychological journey before the soloist enters. The vast exposition and the development of the so, as you say, youthful, but very honest expression of all his feelings throughout the first movement, the homage to Clara Schumann in the second, and all this Beethovenian impulse in the third movement, in the final rondo put together in such a wonderful, very thoughtful way, combined with the folk music that he was very much in love with, so we basically have two life journeys in these concertos: one life journey until his twenties, with all these mixed feelings and all the exploration of his abilities; you can almost hear his insecurities in this concerto… as we evolve into the score, everything becomes more courageous, it’s a burst of emotions… Nr. 2, as you said, it’s absolutely different, it’s a masterpiece of a true, already experienced and approved master, which flows more naturally, which has a different approach, immediately starting with the involvement of piano in the dialogue with the orchestra, then launching into a preliminary cadenza before the exposition of the main musical material. The whole dialogue thing gives more space both to the piano and to the orchestra, which is a prolonged ending of the expression. This shows a totally different approach, there are also changes in the musical thoughts, in the way he treats the forms, also different technique I would say. Brahms wrote to a friend to describe the second movement as “a little scherzo”, which has of course a dose of joke, a dose of irony because it’s not quite a scherzo, right, but a piece with lots of drama and tension in it, as opposed to the really gorgeous, intimate homage in the second movement of the first concerto… We have a totally different atmosphere in the phenomenal third movement, which is a pure expression of love… in the second concerto he really goes further into the exploration of themes and gives more space to the warm colour of solo cello, he creates some sort of a spring atmosphere during the whole movement, very positive and colourful. He’s always exploring and incorporating the piano into the whole score, into the whole symphonic score if I can say so. In this slow movement, the piano answers to other instruments and kind of stays in the shadow. The fourth and final movement recalls Hungarian melodies and brings the concerto to a close with a joyful, energetic feeling. Two very different life journeys that are, without doubt, very demanding for both the pianist and the orchestra and, given the nature of the music, also for the conductor. From that point of view, we are experiencing very unique piano concertos, not only because of their length, but also because of their nature. Up until then, one of the main inspirations for Brahms was Beethoven, who also wrote such a long one as you mentioned the Emperor, but back then, people were exploring, contemporaries like Liszt, then Chopin, and also after… In any case, we are talking about very vast musical forms in all senses and very new to the audiences and the musical language so I can only say that it is really a fantastic privilege to have the chance to play these concertos and to also have the honor of recording them with WDR Symphony Orchestra Cologne and the phenomenal Cristian Măcelaru, the pride of Romania and my dear friend and colleague, so I’m very much looking forward to perform it alongside National Radio Orchestra in Bucharest, for the first time for me with Maestro Nicolae Moldoveanu and we will give our best to stay truthful to the music and to Brahms’s score and hopefully the audience will be pleased.

What are the challenges of Brahms’s Second Piano Concerto for you?

Well, it is certainly the longest piano concerto I have ever played, together with Ferruccio Busoni’s, probably the longest one. First of all, there’s a lot of notes (laughs), then you have to survive several different technical challenges: the perception, the acceptance of a vast amount of music with all its nuances, with all its intensity, not only physical but also emotional, this is something that is very challenging because you can go into phases once you learn the music; in parallel we work with the digestion of music itself which is long, big, deep, you can basically regard each movement as a whole, individual piece. This requires time and I remember I allowed myself a little bit more time when I learned it. Studying it, getting deeper into its meaning because Brahms was very careful, also a perfectionist in detail, he wanted a certain type of sound and so on. I find it challenging from the overall point of view, not only from the technical point of view because, if I have to compare, there are probably more difficult pieces or concertos than this one, but undoubtedly, this is also somewhere there, up high… I feel privileged that I have the chance to tackle these warhorses, some of the highest mountains of the piano repertoire.

How did the Brahms journey start for you?

I learned No. 1 for Maestro Gianandrea Noseda for some concerts at Teatro Regio in Torino when he invited me, then I was part of the tours of the Oslo Philharmonic for their 100th anniversary. We went to Spain with Vasily Petrenko and we played both Brahms’s concertos. I even had this rare opportunity to play both concertos in one evening with Joana Carneiro as a conductor in Teatro Nacional de São Carlos in Lisbon. It is quite a challenge to play them both in a row, a test of endurance… that happened, if I remember correctly, maybe 6-7 years ago, something like that, and I really felt very much fulfilled throughout the process of preparation and throughout all these experiences that I had with conductors and orchestras. Once you sit at the piano on stage, you experience a boldness that cannot be easily described with words. It will certainly be a great journey for the audience in Bucharest as well and I’m very much looking forward to it!

Why are you drawn to Brahms?

As I mentioned before, the boldness, the lyricism, the charm that he brings into some of his compositions from the folk music which he so honestly loved and respected, then the simplicity, the pure heart, at some points a naive heart or so if I can say, all of these components, the maturity… part of my last recording is Brahms: Variations on a theme by Robert Schumann, Op. 9 so it’s just incredible to see what kind of serious, professional, dedicated young man Brahms was. Even at that age, having studied many of the pieces by his predecessors including Bach, of course. All this knowledge and experience is very much included in his music. I had the chance to play some of his solo music, some of his chamber music, trios, quartets, songs… everything is done with such great taste and charm that it cannot leave you monotone or bored. Somehow, it’s very human and this really captures me.

Tell us some of your favorite Brahms recordings.

Some of my favorite recordings, concerning the concertos, I certainly remember Claudio Arrau’s performances in Moscow and one also I think it’s from England; I also enjoyed Emanuel Ax’s performance at the Proms in London… people always find something inspiring in some of the recordings, we all learn from each other or, at least, we should, so I consider myself lucky in that sense and my interpretation is a mix between the written score, what I learn from others, my own vision and life experiences. The composer’s vision and the performer’s vision are equally important.

Do you make a habit of listening to historical recordings? Is that part of your preparation or do you want to approach the score in a fresh way?

Good question! I really wish I had more time on my hands… Years ago, we didn’t have this technology so we could only get the score and start from scratch, and I used to do that when I didn’t have all these devices, but now, given the positive things about the modern technology, which is, of course, very educative and helpful, I began to listen to recordings during the studying process, so… I don’t think this confuses one in the process, on the contrary. When one is a grown-up and stable person, well-prepared, and self-confident about one’s own opinions, listening to different recordings can be very useful. We form our own opinions, then we see different points of view. We’re not the same and we shouldn’t be. Diversity certainly matters and it can lead you to new discoveries.

About how long does it take to get a new score into your fingers and into your psyche? Do you have a specific process when you are preparing a piece?

I feel very privileged that I have the ability to learn quickly and to repeat quickly: Brahms 1 I learned it within 5 days, which means I memorized it and while I was on tour basically! I remember I played with European Union Youth Orchestra and then I went for the opening of Oslo Philharmonic season with Shostakovich, so in between I was actually memorizing it. For No. 2, I’m sure it took more time, I was also touring with lots of repertoire… You have to be fully concentrated, this is absolutely key important during the studying process, and very helpful for a later phase, for the so-called muscle memory. Into psyche, I believe that this is a lifelong process and naturally with the years one gets more mature in all sorts of fields in life and this obviously shows in one’s interpretation. We are (hopefully) experiencing a constant development, for those who try to develop themselves and not be stuck in one place or moment in life. I believe I do my best to improve all the time.

It is the responsibility of the performer to be faithful to the score. Is it possible for a great performer to surpass the vision of the composer? Let’s talk about interpretive freedom.

I believe that composers, in this sense, were not very selfish, you know… of course they give the directions that they want in the score, but somehow, they were respectful to the performance and they would give more or less freedom to the interpreter… Personally, I very much try to respect the score because the truth is in it. I would not improvise too much. But in the end, the performance surpasses the composer’s vision because… I mean, the performance should remain truthful and without unnecessary improvisations that could degrade the character of the written music, but I guess composers themselves were more or less surprised when they heard the music that they wrote live instead of hearing it in their heads or just exploring some types of sounds at the piano or on different instruments or during the consultations with different musicians in the compositional process. One should be faithful to the score, but use one’s own imagination. The main goal of the interpreter is to become one with the composer, otherwise there is absolutely no point and the work cannot be brought to life, because the child will never be born. And we all do our best for the child to be born and then to be raised in a proper, healthy way.

Do you approach a composer always with the same priorities or are there certain things for each composer that you want to bring out? Who do you feel closest to and why?

We should always try to bring out the essence of the composer, each composer has its own style, its own way of expression. I really make the will of the composer a priority, there is no doubt about that. Deep down, I am a romantic person, but that does not mean that you cannot find your Romanticism even in Renaissance, in Bach, not to talk about the later times in the development of the history of music. We all look at things differently and we understand them differently and of course Romanticism in its own right can be found in contemporary music as well, depending on your perspective. However, I’m always truthful to the composer’s score, exactly in order to bring the essence out of it.

You’ve recorded (among other works) all four Rachmaninoff piano concertos as well as the Rhapsody on a theme of Paganini with Vasily Petrenko and Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra. Are you a fan of completeness, once you start on a composer or cycle, do you feel it is imperative to do a whole opus always complete? Being Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concertos or let’s say Études or Préludes from an opus?

I am a fan of completeness of one full bodied piece. Completeness of one piece. Because the piece exists only if it’s presented in its completeness. I mean the piece exists with its point of existence only if it’s done complete, right? So, I wouldn’t say that I am necessarily a fan of completeness of a whole cycle. The recording of the Rachmaninoff cycle with Petrenko was a great journey, a great experience, a great idea that we had and made possible, like I did with Shostakovich, like I did now with Brahms (I’m obviously talking about the concertos), but for example I also did a couple of concertos by Prokofiev, I didn’t record the third or Concert Fantasia by Tchaikovsky, only 1 and 2, next project is 2 and 5 by Saint-Saëns, that will happen in spring, so… no, I don’t occupy myself with that, I just really love the sense of completeness given by the understanding of and the analytical approach to one single piece, because the composer put all his soul into it, nevertheless the duration or the type of musical form… Whatever we play, we should be very truthful to it in its entirety.

Live recording versus studio recording. What do you prefer? The audience and the adrenaline, the energy, the focus and concentration on what is happening in the very moment or the recording studio? Do you play differently for the microphone than you do for the live audience?

Wanting or not, we do play in a way differently, I mean the basic approach certainly stays the same, the basic approach and the understanding of it, but it’s a totally different thing: in the studio it’s an absolutely different atmosphere, you’re by yourself or you’re only with the orchestra, one of the main components – the audience – is missing, and this main component, as you have said, brings that kind of energy, drama and life that brings the magic to the interpretation, so I have always preferred the live performance. On the other hand, in the studio you have more chances to practice and to repeat some things, explore more nuances, and so on and so forth, but definitely live performance over a studio recording. For that matter, as an example, there is this kind of live component in the next album with Cristian. During the recording process we also had one live playthrough of the first concerto and hopefully people will enjoy that kind of live input from all of us involved in the project.

Your first visit to Romania was in 2015, when you played Rachmaninov 3 alongside Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra and Vasily Petrenko. Since then, more concerts have followed, including a recital with Daniel Ciobanu at the Romanian Athenaeum. Earlier this year, you performed Brahms Second Piano Concerto in Timișoara as well alongside WDR Sinfonieorchester Köln under Cristian Măcelaru.

What do you think of the Romanian audiences and what do you enjoy most in Romania (music aside)?

Thank you for following that and thank you for remembering and thank you for your respect. Mulțumesc! I am very happy that 5 years after my only participation at the Enescu Festival, if I am not mistaken, my very first visit to Romania, I have actually come back to Toamna Muzicală Clujeană with my project Makedonissimo, which was really wonderful, and then few more visits happened. Unfortunately, those planned visits to Cluj and to București with the Tinerimea Română, Enescu Philharmonic, and Transylvania Philharmonic Orchestra with both my dear friends Cristian Măcelaru and Gabriel Bebeșelea happened during covid times, so some of them took place of course without audience, but they are live recorded as a gift, as a cure in those very sad and uncertain times for humanity. A couple of concerts followed with the Enescu Philharmonic under Gabriel Bebeșelea and also the opening of the Toamna Muzicală Clujeană last year alongside Transylvania Philharmonic Orchestra and Maestro Cristian Mandeal with a performance of Grieg’s Concerto. I love Romania, we have such a similar mentality and culture, we appreciate and we love this art form. Romania left its mark in the history of music by giving us so many exceptional musicians. I love people’s warmth, flexibility, expression and so on, so I must say that I almost feel like home here. I’ve already been to Timișoara twice this year, first time in March for a big concert with WDR for this year’s European Capital of Culture, with Cristian in his hometown which of course meant a lot to me, and second time with the presentation of the Makedonissimo project just couple of days ago. I love being there and I am very grateful that people accepted me in the most human way so I’m returning to Timișoara in February, when I will play alongside Banatul Filarmonica for the first time, and then at the end of May I’m coming back to Bucharest for concerts with the Enescu Philharmonic under Gabriel Bebeșelea, so… you also mentioned my collaboration with Daniel Ciobanu, I’m very happy that the most prominent and established Romanian pianist at the moment internationally invited me to take part in his festival in Bucharest. I am touched and grateful and I really do give my best to share my emotions with the Romanian people in the sincerest way, that’s when the magic happens. And that was always obvious at the concerts in Romania and I am very grateful as an artist and as a human being for that and I will always gladly come back to your country.

What does music mean to you?

I can only answer very simple and very honest: music is life and life is music.