In his review of Andre Previn's third concert with the L.A. Philharmonic, Martin Bernheimer writes that Previn "plays Tchaikovsky as if it were Mozart" ("Andre Previn Finally Roasts a Chestnut," Oct. 26).
I quite agree. Perhaps it would be better, however, if he played Tchaikovsky as if it were Tchaikovsky.
While it is still too early to make a definitive judgment, at this point it appears that our new maestro's "sane, civil, careful approach" reduces the music to a bland intellectual exercise. In his apparent effort to avoid the drama, theatricality or sentiment of his predecessors, Previn succeeds in making the music clear and precise, but lacking in passion.