On June 20, the 599th Subscription Concert of the Osaka Philharmonic Orchestra, held at Festival Hall, was a historic performance.
The conductor was Robert Trevino.
The pianist was Anna Geniushene.
The first work was Prokofiev’s Piano Concerto No. 3 in C major, Op. 26.
The moment the very first note sounded, the Osaka Philharmonic proved that it is one of the finest orchestras in the world.
The fullness of the sound, the concentration, the tension, the beauty of the resonance.
With a single note, I understood that the Osaka Philharmonic has now reached an extraordinary height.
Anna Geniushene’s piano playing was also magnificent.
The hard brilliance, wit, velocity, and deep lyricism characteristic of Prokofiev.
All of these rose up not as superficial virtuosity, but as music itself.
Robert Trevino and the Osaka Philharmonic supported her piano perfectly, while at the same time displaying an overwhelming presence, as if the orchestra itself were another protagonist.
After the performance ended, Festival Hall was filled with thunderous applause.
The applause would not stop.
The solo encore was “The Humorous Waltz” from Shostakovich’s Dances of the Dolls.
This too was a splendid performance.
After Prokofiev, Anna Geniushene made this small Shostakovich piece resound with remarkable artistry.
It was light and playful, yet somehow sharp.
Behind its charm lay the distinctive shadow of Shostakovich.
When that performance ended, the applause grew even louder.
The audience clearly understood what they had just heard.
After the intermission came Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 11 in G minor, Op. 103, “The Year 1905.”
This was a performance that should be engraved in the history of the Osaka Philharmonic.
Indeed, it would not be an exaggeration to say that it should be engraved in the history of Japanese orchestral performance.
From the stillness of the first movement, something extraordinary was already present.
An atmosphere stretched to the limit.
An ominous presence seemed to approach from afar.
It was not simply that sound was being produced.
History itself was rising inside the hall.
The tremendous power of the second movement left one almost speechless.
Violence, fear, the crowd, oppression, anger.
None of this was expressed merely through loud volume.
It existed there as music, with perfect form.
Robert Trevino’s conducting never allowed the vast structure of the work to slacken for even a moment.
The Osaka Philharmonic was not merely performing Shostakovich.
Through sound, it had fully depicted the human tragedy, the historical tragedy, and the very essence of power engraved within this work.
By the final movement, the performance had grown even more immense.
The roar of the brass, the explosion of the percussion, the concentration of the strings, the sharp expression of the woodwinds.
Everything came together and shook the whole of Festival Hall.
Yet it was never a crude sound.
Overwhelming, yet precise.
Fierce, yet beautiful as music.
This is what a true great performance is.
At the moment the performance ended, there was a brief silence.
Then the hall was enveloped in great applause.
On that day, in that place, I once again became convinced that the Osaka Philharmonic is one of the finest orchestras in the world.
The way the performance ended was also unforgettable.
Even after the final note had sounded, Robert Trevino did not immediately lower his baton.
It was a long time.
Until the final resonance disappeared into the space of Festival Hall, he did not lower his baton.
The members of the Osaka Philharmonic and the audience in the hall held their breath and listened intently until that resonance had completely faded away.
It was not that the music had ended.
Something that had risen from the depths of history still remained there.
At last, Robert Trevino lowered his baton.
After that, there was a single breath of silence.
And in the next moment, Festival Hall was wrapped in thunderous applause.
Voices of “Bravo” rang out.
I myself shouted “Bravo” twice.
It is not often that I raise my voice in that way.
But on this day, I could not help doing so.
At times, tears welled in the eyes of the violinist serving as concertmaster.
It was a sight I had never seen before.
The performers themselves knew more deeply than anyone what this performance had been.
June 20, Festival Hall.
Robert Trevino, Anna Geniushene, and the Osaka Philharmonic Orchestra.
This 599th Subscription Concert was not merely one concert among many.
It was a historic night that revealed the present stature of the Osaka Philharmonic, the level of Japanese orchestral music, and the cultural achievement that Japan should proudly present to the world.