From affirmation to anxiety: Abduraimov and Noseda with the New York Philharmonic

"In a hall whose acoustics are sometimes prone to piano–orchestra imbalance, Noseda initially kept the orchestral sound carefully in check, allowing the concerto’s iconic ascending chords to emerge with clarity. Later in the performance, however, as the orchestra was granted greater latitude, the equilibrium proved less consistent, with denser orchestral textures at times encroaching on the piano line.

After the interval, in Noseda’s rendition, Shostakovich’s Symphony No.4 unfolded as a work driven by relentless accumulation, its broad spans sustained with an inexorable sense of motion. The vast orchestral forces of the New York Philharmonic were unleashed with blunt force when required yet never allowed to break into episodic display. Instead, repetition and sheer mass functioned as structural tools, pushing the music forward until its gestures seemed to strain under their own weight.

In the first movement, Noseda brought into focus a defining feature of the symphony as a whole: a mode of musical thinking in which instability is ingrained, not incidental. What might initially sound incongruent was shaped to register as deliberate, part of a design that resists coherence without relinquishing control. The movement’s fugato emerged not as a display of contrapuntal brilliance but as a mechanism of increasing pressure, forcing movement without allowing release. Marches and sardonic turns followed with sharp definition but without caricature, their energy accumulating through repetition rather than development. Moments of lyric release – initiated by woodwinds or strings – were ultimately subsumed by brass and percussion, illustrating an overall approach in which dense and sparse textures alternate.

From the very first bars, Noseda maintained a firm grip on internal balance, his staccato gestures underscoring attack and precision. Despite his controlled approach, he ensured that Shostakovich’s unsettling instrumental juxtapositions stood out within the dense orchestral fabric. Julian Gonzalez’s exposed bassoon lines, set against muted brass sonorities, hovered between lament and parody. Concertmaster Frank Huang’s solo lines were shadowed by mechanized accompaniment. Christopher Martin’s trumpet entries, isolated against abruptly thinned textures, arrived with a blunt clarity that felt purposefully interruptive.

In the Moderato con moto, Shostakovich introduced a deceptive contrast, one Noseda resisted sentimentalizing. The movement’s lightly dancing surface, first entrusted to the violas, recalled a Mahlerian dance type emptied of warmth – less a Ländler than a ghostly afterimage of one. Under Noseda’s direction, the music retained a brittle poise: rhythms were neatly articulated but never allowed to settle, moments of apparent ease floating briefly before dissolving as gestures circled without arriving anywhere.

The final movement traced a long descent. Its funeral procession advanced with heavy insistence, the low brass – especially the disturbing solo trombone – lending the music a grim, impersonal weight, drained of lyric inflection. Moments of disquieting animation and hollow grandeur surfaced along the way, but they failed to generate momentum; each surge arrived already undermined. Noseda sustained a remarkable intensity up to the eerie conclusion, the music slowly receding into nothingness."

Edward Sava-Segal, Seen and Heard International (From affirmation to anxiety: Abduraimov and Noseda with the New York Philharmonic – Seen and Heard International)

"On Wednesday, Gianandrea Noseda conducted the New York Philharmonic in a lovingly crafted, exhilarating rendition. 

They took full advantage of the Wu Tsai Theater’s kindly acoustics. Every texture was crystal clear, from Judith LeClair’s frequent bassoon solos supported by barely-there strings to the in-your-face, “my orchestra goes up to eleven” climaxes in which really no one should have been audible over the low brass and percussion, but everyone was. The strings were capable of both savagery and sinuousness, with their first-movement Presto passage sounding like a swarm of malevolent bumblebees. The woodwinds roamed confidently through manic changes of affect, from exuberance to paranoia. 

The symphony has structural challenges: there are several sudden, unprepared shifts in tempo to make sense of, not much obvious in the way of thematic unity in the long outer movements, and a bewildering array of moods and textures. Noseda handled the majority of these beautifully and, in an unexpected masterstroke, began the second movement after barely a pause, so that rather than a dance-like respite it registered as a haunted reflection on the first movement’s angst. There was still that one sudden shift in the third movement that sounds for all the world like there’s a page missing from the score. And there are long stretches of satirical waltz, whose banality seems to be their point, that allow the momentum to sag and the mind to wander. But the third movement’s boisterous, slightly dissonant false climax was immensely satisfying, as was the gloriously creepy final passage."

David Wolfon, Bachtrack (Noseda and the NY Philharmonic play exhilarating Shostakovich Four | Bachtrack)

"This week, Maestro Noseda is performing two contrary Russian works with the New York Philharmonic. The second work was most popular, most familiar and (for some) tiring concerto in the entire piano repertoire.

Not that this deterred Maestro Noseda and the Uzbek virtuoso Behzod Abduraimov from tackling Tchaikovsky’s warhorse the B‑flat Minor Concerto, with more than mere success.

Mr. Noseda hardly pushed the New York Phil hard. He left the starring role to the stolid Mr. Abduraimov. And for good reason. The pianist has two virtues which could put him in the front ranks. He played those frequent two‑handed octave runs with feathery swiftness. They were feverishly demanding, yet seemed to be of one whole (silken?) cloth. At times in the first movement, he seemed to be biding his time for those muscular passages.
[...] Not only Maestro Noseda but every first chair and consort played their hearts out. And while more careful scribes might pick holes in the performance, its outlandish bizarre and frankly loco composition easily jolted, unnerved and gave utter inexplicable joy.

Harry Rolnick, Concertnet (ConcertoNet.com - The Classical Music Network)