Tag: BBC Philharmonic Orchestra

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BBC Philharmonic Orchestra – Mahler Symphony No. 3 ‘The Voice of Nature’ – Live Review

John Storgårds, Jess Dandy and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. Photo: Chris Payne

Saturday 14 June 2025

Bridgewater Hall, Manchester

*****

John Storgårds conducts the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra in a breathtaking performance of Mahler’s Third Symphony

John Storgårds, Jess Dandy and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. Photo: Chris Payne
John Storgårds, Jess Dandy and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. Photo: Chris Payne

Having just come back from the Shostakovich Festival in Leipzig, with performances by two of the world’s most renowned orchestras – the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra and the Boston Symphony Orchestra – I was looking forward to returning to the Bridgewater Hall in Manchester for a concert by the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra by way of comparison.

The Leipzig Gewandhaus concert hall, where the Festival took place, has an internal design similar to Manchester’s magnificent Bridgewater Hall, and both feature fine acoustics – Prof. Trevor Cox of the University of Salford chose the latter as one of the best concert halls in the world. It’s gratifying to report that the BBC Philharmonic, shortlisted for Gramophone‘s Orchestra of the Year award in 2023, more than matched their illustrious rivals in a stunning performance of Mahler’s gargantuan Third Symphony on Saturday.

Interior of The Gewandhaus, Leipzig
Interior of The Gewandhaus, Leipzig. Photo: author’s own

The concert was billed as ‘the voice of nature’, but as Stephen Johnson said in his astute and informative programme note, Mahler perhaps had Nietzsche in mind when he wrote the following,

It always strikes me as strange that most people, when they speak of ‘nature’, think only of flowers, birds and woodsy smells. No-one knows the god Dionysus, the great Pan. There now! You have a sort of programme – that is, an example of how I make music. Everywhere and always it is only the voice of nature!

Mahler provided subtitles for each of the six movements, showing how they related to nature. Although he later withdrew them, they still offer a valuable guide to the symphony’s journey from the awakening of elemental nature, via communications from flowers and animals to what humankind and the angels communicate, to a vision of love and perhaps even heaven or God. The subtitles are quoted below.

Movement One Pan Awakes – Summer Marches In (Bacchic procession)

The hugely ambitious opening movement is almost as long as the combined length of the remaining five movements. On its own, it’s as long as many full-length symphonies, but anyone expecting a clear symphonic development in its structure would be confused. As Stephen Johnson points out, it ‘feels more like a fantastic kaleidoscope of wildly contrasting sounds.’

The movement began with a splendid brass opening, rich, bright, and strident, followed by passionately anguished lower strings, spiky trumpets and shimmering upper strings. Conductor John Storgårds brought out the detail of this strange but compelling music, combining precision with passion, as he did throughout this superb performance.

An ominous bass drum announced Pan, the god of the wild, rousing himself with what sounded like a Wagnerian funeral march. Offset against this was a lilting, pastoral section for woodwind and strings, with a Romantic violin solo from Leader Zoë Beyers, whose solos were all excellent.

The highlight of the movement was a series of solos from trombonist Richard Brown; at times, it was a concerto for trombone and orchestra. His playing was warm and rich, with a lovely legato and a mellow tone set against harmonically shifting, evocative lower strings.

The movement ended with the Bacchic procession, led by the god Bacchus (the Roman name for the Greek god Dionysus, god of wine and fertility). There was an explosion of joy and ecstasy, a stunning ending to the first half of the symphony. Although it was tempting to applaud, the audience sat in respectful silence.

Movement Two – What the Flowers in the Meadow Tell Me

After the tumultuous onslaught and epic length of the first movement, the second movement is a short minuet. Mahler allowed it to be performed separately before the whole symphony was premiered, with mixed feelings, ‘This modest little piece will no doubt present me to the public as the ‘sensuously’ perfumed ‘singer of nature.’ He wanted the complete symphony to show that ‘nature hides within itself everything that is frightful, great and also lovely.’

The BBC Philharmonic brought out the loveliness of this movement, with graceful, sweeping strings that created an idealised image of pastoral meadows, recalling Wordsworth’s lines from his Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood (1807).

There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight,
To me did seem
Apparelled in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream.

The orchestra played the movement with a precision and lightness of touch that was remarkable for such large forces. The effect was enchanting and gently uplifting.

Movement Three – What the Animals in the Forest Tell Me

The third movement is dedicated to the animals of the forest, and the wisdom they communicate. The animals are gentle, enjoying their pastoral setting, with perhaps a hint of sadness and a little jeopardy.

The movement began with a characterful clarinet solo by John Bradbury, followed by themes that scattered across the orchestra like a waterfall. The frolicking of the forest animals was interrupted by an offstage trumpet, played by Gwyn Owen, representing a post horn that seemed to evoke nostalgia for the countryside. Owen’s playing was mellow, rich and warm with a beautiful legato.

There was a heart-stopping moment of stasis when suspended strings and hymn-like brass accompanied the trumpet. It seemed we were heading for a gentle ending to the movement, but Mahler wanted to remind us of the wildness of Pan, and the brutality lurking beneath nature’s serene surface.

Movement Four – What Humanity Tells Me

The first movement, which describes the effect of humanity on the composer, aptly features a mezzo-soprano singing a text by Friedrich Nietzsche from his philosophical novel Also sprach Zarathustra (1883–85). This mysterious passage describes ‘midnight’ addressing humankind about the depth of joy and pain in the world, and the battle between the two.

Pain says cease!
Yet all joy desires eternity –
Desires deep, deep eternity.

There was luxury casting on Saturday, with the contralto Jess Dandy, who was so impressive in last April’s performance of Bach’s St John Passion, returning to the Bridgewater Hall. Her deep, warm contralto tones were ideally suited to the profound text. Time was suspended as we reflected on the ‘deep eternity’ of the text.

Jess Dandy. Photo: Clare Park

Movement Five – What the Angels Tell Me

The fifth movement takes its text Es sungen drei Engel einen süßen Gesang (Three Angels Sang a Sweet Song) from Des Knaben Wunderhorn (The Boy’s Magic Horn), the collection of folk poems that Mahler returned to so often. The children’s choir opens the movement singing ‘Bimm, bamm’ to represent bells, joined by real bells from the orchestra. The three-part women’s chorus represents the angels, later joined by the soprano soloist, singing for joy because Saint Peter has been absolved from his sin in denying Jesus.

Offstage bells. Photo: Chris Payne
Grahm Johns with offstage bells. Photo: Chris Payne

The choirs were made up of CBSO Children’s Chorus and Youth Chorus, and women of the Hallé Choir. The children, having sat quietly through over an hour of music, were well-drilled, singing without scores, and bringing lively tones to the music. The women sang mellifluously, joined by the luxurious warmth of Dandy’s contralto. The overall effect was suitably angelic and heavenly.

Movement Six – What Love Tells Me

The symphony is bookended by another long, instrumental movement. Mahler summed up its place in the symphony’s journey,

‘I could almost call this [movement] ‘What God tells me’… in the sense that God can only be understood as love. And so my work begins as a musical poem embracing all stages of musical development in a stepwise ascent. It begins with inanimate nature and ascends to the love of God.’

On Saturday, the BBC Philharmonic, under its Chief Conductor John Storgårds, beautifully illustrated the final ascent. The movement began with a quietly ecstatic string melody; Storgårds stepped back on the podium as if to luxuriate in the sound that was reminiscent of Wagener’s Parsifal. An ecstatic climax on strings and horns revealed a vision of heaven, of quiet joy lovingly created by the orchestra. There was a hymn-like sense of inevitability, with warm but precise ensemble.

The orchestra shone, shimmering with joy, as it reached another transcendent climax, with Storgårds becoming more vigorous and animated. The music fell away with a gentle string melody, until there was another climax of terrifying beauty and luminescence, similar to the moment in Edward Elgar’s Dream of Gerontius when the Soul is briefly in the ‘awful Presence of its God.’

The brass played a lovely chorale, beautifully controlled like the finest of brass bands. Storgårds danced on the podium at the final climax, with almost the whole orchestra playing the final joyful melody as we ascended into heaven; there was a moment of peace, followed by a massive concluding chord with vigorous double timpani.

John Storgårds and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. Photo: Chris Payne
John Storgårds and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. Photo: Chris Payne

Storgårds began to drop his arms slowly; the convention is that the audience waits until this gesture is complete, but the audience were having none of, bursting immediately into rapturous applause. This marked the end of an outstanding performance, proving that there is no need to leave Manchester to experience the highest quality music-making.

Programme

Gustav Mahler Symphony No. 3 in D minor

Performers

BBC Philharmonic Orchestra
John Storgårds conductor
Jess Dandy contralto
Hallé Choir
CBSO Children’s Chorus
CBSO Youth Chorus

The concert will be broadcast on BBC Radio 3 on Wednesday 2 July at 19.30, and will be available for 30 days after broadcast on BBC Sounds.

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BBC Philharmonic Orchestra – Mahler Symphony No. 9 – Live Review

Conductor Yoel Gamzou and Members of the BBC Phil

Saturday 12 April 2025

Bridgewater Hall, Manchester

*****

Mahler’s Ninth Symphony: A Life-Affirming Farewell?

Conductor Yoel Gamzou and Members of the BBC Phil
Conductor Yoel Gamzou and Members of the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. Image © Chris Payne

In an article in The Guardian, Tom Service described the final page of Mahler’s Ninth Symphony as ‘one of the most famously death-haunted places in orchestral music’. As he pointed out, the final bar is even marked ‘esterbend’ (dying or dying away). There are other references to death scattered all over the symphony. Mahler wrote ‘Leb’ wohl’ (farewell) above a motif in the first movement in the draft score. This motif recalls ‘Der Abschied’ (The Farewell) from Das Lied von der Erde (The Song of the Earth), written around the same time as the symphony. The composer Alban Berg wrote, ‘The entire [first] movement is based on a presentiment of death’, and the symphony’s first conductor Bruno Walter wrote the word ‘farewell’ could have been written ‘at the head of the Ninth.’ The final movement quotes music from Mahler’s Kindertotenlieder (Songs on the Death of Children).

Tom Service also wrote that Leonard Bernstein, and many other conductors and listeners, saw the symphony as representing a ‘whole suite of deaths.’ This was Mahler’s last completed symphony. He was aware that Beethoven and Bruckner had died after writing their ninth symphonies, and created a superstition later called the curse of the ninth. He thought he had cheated it by renaming his true ninth symphony Das Lied von der Erde. He had also lost his four-year-old daughter Maria, who died in 1907 of scarlet fever. He had been diagnosed with an incurable heart condition in the same year, which probably led to his early death at the age of 50 in 1911. He failed to hear his Ninth Symphony, which he completed in 1910, but was not premiered until 1912. Service also refers to the death of tonality, which Mahler’s late work certainly prefigures, and also the ‘death throes of the figure of artist as hero in European culture.’

But having skilfully set up the case for the prosecution, Service comes to the symphony’s defence as a life-affirming work despite all the difficulties Mahler was suffering, or perhaps because of them. Those looking for musical clues should consider that the first movement’s sighing, falling theme that provides so much of the material of the symphony is based on a waltz by Johann Strauss, with the delightfully unambiguous title ‘Enjoy Life.’  Jo Kirkbride, in her programme note, whilst acknowledging the symphony is about death, is on the same side as Service, pointing to a letter Mahler wrote to Bruno Walter in 1909 in which he said,

 ‘I have more thirst for life than ever, and find the “habits of existence” sweeter than ever.’

The Israeli-American conductor Yoel Gamzou, who conducted the BBC Philharmonic on Saturday, is known as a Mahler specialist. He was inspired to become a conductor as a boy when he heard Mahler’s music. He studied privately with the great Italian conductor Carlo Maria Giulini, who recorded Mahler’s Ninth in 1994. In 2006, Gamzou founded his own International Mahler Orchestra. A composer as well as a conductor, in 2010, he achieved something Mahler himself never did – the completion of Mahler’s Tenth Symphony. The depth of his knowledge was revealed by his ability to draw out incredible detail from the orchestra, who played superbly for him on Saturday. His conducting was expressive, dramatic, and demonstrative, with large and passionate gestures, often pointing imperiously at individual players or sections, and moving lithely on the podium. So it was remarkable that at the end of the final movement his gestures became more and more subtle and delicate. He held the orchestra – and a rapt audience – in his hands. He very deliberately closed his score at the end, holding everyone in the hall in reverential silence for what seemed like an age.

The BBC Phil and Yoel Gamzou
The BBC Philharmonic Orchestra and conductor Yoel Gamzou. Image © Chris Payne

So what was Gamzou’s view of the symphony? In the first movement, he brought out the piece’s drama, with immense climaxes and easily drew out all the densely complex lines. There was occasional respite from the opaque strands of sound, even optimism and joy, and a lovely ending, suggesting a bucolic, gentle scene.

Mahler’s title for the second movement is very specific, ‘Im Tempo eines gemächlichen Ländlers. Etwas täppisch und sehr derb’ (In the tempo of an easy-going country waltz. Somewhat clumsy and very rough). The movement is based on the Ländler, a European folk dance of which Mahler was particularly fond. In a memorable phrase, Robert Philip described how three versions of the dance try to establish themselves simultaneously, ‘as if a drunk is assailed by conflicting images of the dancers.’ Gamzou achieved the feat of bringing out the coarseness of the music, but paradoxically with great precision. At the end of the movement, there was a fiercely dramatic, dark section of what felt like sarcastic joy, which could have come from a symphony with Shostakovich, who owed a debt to Mahler. The movement fell away in sadness, as if the folk dancers, now defeated, were disappearing from the stage.

Conductor Yoel Gamzou with members of the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. Image © Chris Payne

The music of Shostakovich was prefigured even more obviously in the third movement, which Mahler described as a ‘Rondo-Burleske’. In case that hinted at excess jolliness, he also marked it ‘Sehr trotzig’ (Very defiant). Gamzou brought out all the sarcasm of the movement with a fiercely frenetic opening, with a theme that soon got lost in a morass of sound. He danced on the podium, recalling another conductor of the BBC Philharmonic, the great Yan Pascal Tortelier. The movement was at once life-affirming and troubling. The trumpet solo, which provides one of the musical fragments on which the final movement is based, provided a glimpse of serenity, before angular, Shostakovichian woodwinds destroyed the mood. Depending on which theory you follow, the movement could be a celebration of life’s visceral, thrilling, but unsettling nature, or a sarcastic dismissal of a life that is shortly to be left behind.

As Service wrote, an essential clue to a conductor’s interpretation is their approach to the final movement, which he wittily described as ‘cataclysmically slow.’ Mahler’s description is clear. ‘Sehr langsam und noch zurückhaltend’(Very slow and even held back). Bruno Walter’s 1938 recording lasted just over 18 minutes, whereas Bernstein stretched the movement to 30 minutes. Gamzou’s performance lasted 28 minutes, putting him firmly at the Bernstein end of things, and perhaps emphasising the movement’s valedictory nature. Equally, the movement can be seen as a hymn to life, possibly highlighted by the sometimes gut-wrenching intensity of the orchestra’s stunning playing. Even the musical quotation from Kindertotenlieder is ambiguous. The song’s words describe how, ‘Im Sonnenschein der Tag ist schön’ (In the sunlight, the day is beautiful). We could take this at face value, describing the subtle joy that life brings, or we could remember that in the original song, the words describe how the protagonist thinks that the children have merely run ahead into the sunshine during a summer walk, and that they will appear around the next corner, a terrible affirmation of the inevitability of death.

Whatever your interpretation is of the final movement – and the symphony as a whole – the playing at the end was profoundly moving. There was a lovely portamento from the strings as if they could not let go of the notes. After a gorgeous cello solo, the strings crept back in. There was a beautifully-controlled pianissimo with a never-ending melody, and one last rousing of the second violin theme before the orchestra fell into silence.

Repertoire

Gustav Mahler Symphony No. 9 in D major

Performers

BBC Philharmonic Orchestra
Yoel Gamzou Conductor

Sources

Tom Service, Symphony Guide: Mahler’s Ninth (The Guardian 29 July 2014)
Jo Kirkbride Programme Note for BBC Philharmonic Orchestra
Robert Philip, The Classical Music Lover’s Companion to Orchestral Music (Yale University Press,  Kindle Edition)

This concert will be broadcast on BBC Radio 3 at 19.30 on Tuesday 8 July and will be available for 30 days after broadcast on BBC Sounds

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BBC Philharmonic – Beethoven’s ‘Emperor’ Piano Concerto – Live Review

John Storgårds, Paul Lewis and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. Image Copyright Chris Payne

Saturday 22 March 2025

Bridgewater Hall, Manchester

****

A stunning performance of Beethoven’s final piano concerto by Paul Lewis, bookended by two Nordic symphonies

John Storgårds, Paul Lewis and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. Image Copyright Chris Payne
John Storgårds, Paul Lewis and members of the BBC Philharmonic. Image copyright Chris Payne

Last Saturday’s concert by the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra was going to feature music by three Nordic composers: the Norwegian composer Edvard Grieg, the Danish composer Per Nørgård and the Finnish composer Jean Sibelius, all conducted by the Finnish conductor John Storgårds. In the event, Grieg’s Piano Concerto in A Minor was replaced by Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 5 in E-flat major, Op. 73, also known as the ‘Emperor’.

The concert began with Symphony No. 8 by the Danish composer Per Nørgård. It was commissioned by the Helsinki Philharmonic Orchestra and is dedicated to the Orchestra and to conductor John Storgårds. Another post on this Blog, a review of the Bass Communion album, Ghosts on Magnetic Tape, addresses what constitutes music. The symphony presented a similar challenge, which could defeat listeners hearing it for the first time, offering music that appears tonal but often slips away from the listener’s grasp. In his very helpful programme note, Stephen Johnson addressed this issue,

‘The profusion of sounds, all vying for attention, may seem bewildering. So too might the music’s tendency to invoke traditional tonal harmonies, then immediately throw them out of focus.’

Johnson also drew an astute connection with the symphonic works of Sibelius, which the composer described as flowing ‘like a river.’  Nørgård’s symphony has a constant flow of glittering themes, repeatedly fractured but driven by an inner momentum. Armed with this knowledge, rather than searching for conventional development of symphonic themes, the listener can make sense of the piece and enjoy a fascinating journey.

It helped that the BBC Philharmonic’s performance, conducted by the symphony’s dedicatee, John Storgårds, with ferocious concentration, was crystalline and magical, an invigorating investigation into orchestral timbre. The first movement began mysteriously, like a wood at night. Rasping brass led to Bernard Herrmann-like strings that shimmered with an evil glint. An endless piano tune was passed around the orchestra, including percussion. Storgårds stepped back in a ‘senza misura’ section, a free section without a regular beat, which felt like the chiming of demented clocks. A solo violin reverberated like a siren, and the music unravelled itself, bringing the movement to an uneasy end.

Genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood.

T.S. Eliot

The second movement felt as if it had been written in a fever dream, like film music where the page had been smudged. Nervous strings and strident brass headed towards an apotheosis but collapsed and fell away. There was a mass of sound, a dense adagio with filigree decoration. A slow theme was picked out by the strings but undermined by restless percussion, before a brief and uncertain resolution. The final movement began with the arid sound of the rim of a side drum being struck, and sarcastic military brass. The playing throughout was virtuosic, as rising themes that never resolved appeared from a turbulent miasma of sound. Yet, there were occasional moments of glittering joy and clarity. The strangely rhapsodic ending brought a moment of stasis with an unsettling cello solo. The performance brought to mind T.S. Eliot’s phrase, ‘genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood’ – Nørgård’s symphony had the same effect.

John Storgårds, Paul Lewis and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. Image Copyright Chris Payne
Paul Lewis, John Storgårds and members of the BBC Philharmonic. Image copyright Chris Payne

Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 5 brought no such epistemological agonies; it’s well enough known that the interest for the listener lies in the performance rather than trying to unravel the mysteries of the music itself. In his programme note, Barry Cooper referred to the concerto’s nickname, the ‘Emperor’, which describes the ‘grand, majestic character’ of the piece. The piano soloist, Paul Lewis, opened the first movement, following the initial orchestral chords, playing with mesmerising poise and grace, at a faster pace than some interpretations. While Lewis waited patiently, the orchestra played resolutely, fiercely rhythmic, then dancing elegantly. He picked up the theme with a shimmering upward piano run, decorating the theme, then providing a romantic variation. A more robust passage gave way to a stunning syncopated section with gentle rubato. The precision of Lewis’ left hand was revealed in a descending theme, with a bell-like, ringing touch in the right hand. An exuberant symphonic section was decorated by sparkling piano – a moment of lucid joy. The movement concluded with a virtuosic cadenza from Lewis, his hands chasing each other across the keyboard, producing a twinkling sound reminiscent of a glass harmonica.

The second and third movements merged to form a section that was as long as the entire first movement. Some audience members jumped as the piano suddenly transitioned from one movement to the next without warning. Again, the highlight was Lewis’ playing, ably supported by the orchestra, who began the second movement in contemplative mood, with deeply resonating basses and stunning ensemble. Lewis matched their tender playing with rapt contemplation, picking out each note with beautiful evenness. There was a heart-stopping extended section in which Lewis was accompanied by the woodwind. There were times when his playing exhibited a Mozartian lightness, as well as a Beethovenian robustness. Lewis made this colossus of a piece light and delicate, shot through with subtle joy. He was justly celebrated at the end with rapturous applause and ecstatic shouts.

The second half of the concert featured the second Nordic symphony of the evening, Sibelius’s third. An oft-quoted conversation between Sibelius and another great symphonist, Gustav Mahler, ended with the latter saying that the symphony should be like the world, ‘It must embrace everything.’ As Katy Hamilton pointed out in her programme note, it’s less often remembered that Mahler’s comment was in reply to Sibelius’ comment, made just after he completed his Third Symphony, that a symphony should be marked by its ‘severity of style and the profound logic that created an inner connection between all the motifs.’

Despite Sibelius’ avowed debt to the formal traditions of previous symphonists such as Mozart, Haydn and Mozart, the symphony demonstrates, according to Robert Philip, that,

Sibelius’s harmonic language is becoming more wayward, and his characteristic fragmentation of ideas makes large swathes of the symphony elusive until you get to know it – and even then, you have to accept that elusiveness is part of the point.

The symphony began with a robust bass tune, followed by a folky melody in the woodwinds, accompanied by swirling strings; we were immediately immersed in Sibelius’ distinctive sound world, rather than the sound of the earlier symphonists, although as Robert Philip points out the use of folk music is a feature of Mahler’s symphonies. Storgårds beautifully controlled the spiralling momentum of the opening. A moment of chromatic unease, marked by scurrying flutes, gave way to a surprising break in momentum. The orchestra played with a warm, generous sound as Storgårds urged them on to a climax. The folk tune returned, then the music dissolved into ambiguity. There was rich brass and perfect ensemble in the strings. The movement ended with its final noble statements and a pleasing plagal (‘amen’) cadence.

John Storgårds and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. Image Copyright Chris Payne
John Storgårds and members of the BBC Philharmonic Image copyright Chris Payne

The second movement began with an open fifth on the horns, then a stately, lilting dance on woodwind, beautifully played with lovely poise. One of the themes was an intriguing pre-echo of the vocal section in the second movement of Jon Lord’s Concerto for Group and Orchestra (1969). A majestically sorrowful melody from the cellos was followed by playful pizzicato, passing through different keys and gradually broadening out into the earlier theme. The third movement passed from a scherzo-like opening to a grand finale. Again, there were pre-echoes of later Sibelius, and a hymn-like tune emerged that was strongly reminiscent of the melody from Finlandia (1899), which later became the Finlandia Hymn, an important anthem in Storgårds’ native country. At the end of the piece, there was lengthy applause, and Storgårds went into the orchestra to thank individual sections, including the double basses, who were slightly out of reach. Returning to the front of the stage, he bowed to thank the audience, his hand on his heart, as if to acknowledge the emotional impact that the symphony had on him.

Repertoire
Per Nørgård Symphony No. 8
Ludwig van Beethoven Piano Concerto No.5, ‘Emperor’
Jean Sibelius Symphony No 3 in C major

Performers
BBC Philharmonic Orchestra
John Storgårds conductor
Paul Lewis piano

Sources
BBC Philharmonic Orchestra Programme Notes
T.S. Eliot, Dante (Faber, 1929)
Robert Philip, The Classical Music Lover’s Companion to Orchestral Music (Yale University Press,  Kindle Edition)

The concert will be broadcast on BBC Radio 3 on Tuesday 1 April at 19.30 and will be available on BBC Sounds for 30 days after that.