Music Review : Watts Shines in Rachmaninoff at Bowl

Musicians playfully refer to it as “Rocky II.” The musical equivalent of a summertime popcorn movie, Rachmaninoff’s Second Piano Concerto might have been written with the Hollywood Bowl in mind. It seemed that way Thursday.

No one would accuse the composer of being subtle in this work. His tunes gush more than they cajole, his climactic points, especially those in the finale, are perfectly set up and, when reached, underlined. The piece delivers on its promises, as well-worn as they may be, and requires very little effort from the listener. It practically sits in your lap and musses your hair for you.

Perhaps the best thing about Andre Watts’ performance of the work with the Los Angeles Philharmonic before an appreciative crowd of 12,578 was that there was no pretending that it was something that it isn’t. This was a no-holds-barred account, full of heart-on-your-sleeve rhapsody, gutsy fortissimos and big, sweeping lines. The only illogical response to it is enthusiasm.

Perhaps much of what the 48-year-old pianist did would have sounded vulgar indoors. Here, it sounded just right. Playing on a steely Yamaha grand, Watts brought an unflinching sense of drama and sentiment to the music, floated and whispered its poetry without losing sight of where he was going, produced crashing and muscular thrills without bogging down and even managed some kittenish elegance along the way.

Substituting on short notice for Carlo Rizzi, conductor George Cleve, making his Philharmonic and Bowl debuts at age 58, accompanied cannily, matching the grandeur and gusto of the pianist, note for note. In fact, he had accompanied the same pianist in the same concerto the night before in San Diego.

As bookends, Cleve led vital performances of Mozart’s “Die Zauberflote” Overture and Brahms’ Fourth Symphony. The former assistant to Monteux and Szell seems to have learned a thing or two about the value of plainspeak. With the full orchestra in Mozart, he fashioned a swift, tidy and vivacious run-through.

In his clear-eyed Brahms, he enforced rhythmic clarity and vigor, refused to dawdle over particulars, yet sculpted phrases and discovered nuances. The Philharmonic answered heartily, mostly neatly, some over-amplified horn playing notwithstanding, and showed that Brahms straightahead works.