Nigel Hess was commissioned by Prince Charles to write a piano concerto in memory of his grandmother that would be “something that the Queen Mother might have enjoyed herself”. His tuneful concerto is in three movements; the first, “The Smile”, recalls her innate gifts of gaiety and warmth in a bubbly first movement where one can easily imagine the accompanying clink of champagne glasses. The imaginative opening with quiet strings touched by chords from the vibraphone proceeds into a fast-moving allegro, scored with the lightest of touches with attractive melodies spilling over into one another. Of the three movements this is definitely first past the post! The second, “The Love”, is a tender reflection on the love for her family. It begins on solo piano with a tune that in hedging its bets just misses that clinching turn of phrase that, in the hands of a Coates or an Addinsell, would have made it truly memorable. On its reprise, fully scored, the tune sounds over-inflated, a charge that also affects some of the writing in the last movement, “The Duty”. It begins by recalling the grim nights of the Blitz with an ominous three-note brass motif that leads to the pianist playing dischords in imitation of the peeling of broken church bells. An over-worked heraldic motif, perhaps intended to recall Walton’s Crown Imperial, composed for the Queen’s Coronation, ushers in the flamboyant finale with its suggestion of “London Pride” in the jubilant coda.

Any reservation concerning the concerto itself fades in the face of Lang Lang’s vividly projected performance. He relishes every moment of the piano writing and brings the sweetest of touches to the slow movement. Of the immaculately drilled ensemble of the London Chamber Orchestra, I must mention the intrepid trumpeter blazing forth in the concerto’s final pages. One can imagine Her Majesty applauding this performance.