One of Schnittke’s
masterpieces, the Piano Quintet
was written following the death of the
composer’s mother. It covers a wide
range of emotions, now despairing, now
somewhat mock-happy in the manner of
Shostakovich, and ultimately landing
on a plain of transcendence that is
almost childlike in its imagery. In
preparation for listening to this recording,
I revisited a number of others, since
this particular opus is well represented
in the catalogue. The estimable ensemble
Capricorn has a fine one (on Hyperion),
as do Mark Lubotsky and Irena Schnittke,
the composer’s wife (Sony). And another
recent one popped up in the shop just
this week, with the Moscow Quartet and
Gary Graffman (Fine Arts) from around
1998. It’s good to see this piece given
the adulation (i.e., performances) that
it deserves.
The Quintet begins
with a mournful piano solo, that later
escalates into a repeated, struck note
that sounds more dire with each repetition.
To my ears, this is grief incarnate,
a driven, almost senseless cry for the
pain to stop. The little waltz that
insinuates itself later is also more
painful than not. Only in the final
movement, when the pain subsides into
a broad, mellow chords in the strings,
with a gentle tinkling of the piano
– almost like a music box – is there
any perception of some kind of lessening
of the initial intensity.
This performance by
the Barbican Piano Trio is very fine,
with special guests Jan Peter Schmolk
on violin and James Boyd on viola. The
group plays with unwavering feeling
and finesse, showing a sensitive ear
for the work’s shifting moods and general
unease.
The Piano Trio
is also one of the composer’s finest
works, and again, although a number
of other versions are happily available,
this one will do just fine. It was originally
written for violin, viola and cello,
to commemorate the one-hundredth anniversary
of Alban Berg’s death in 1985, but rewritten
in 1992 to include piano. The work is
cast in two movements, and from the
very first chords, the ghosts of Beethoven
and Schubert hang in the air, albeit
swirling around with Schnittke’s more
piquant harmonies as if filtered through
Shostakovich. Some of the movement even
sounds like Haydn – well, sort of. This
is one of the composer’s most clear
experiments with what sound like Baroque
cadences, but of course with his characteristic
astringency.
For comparison, I checked
the world premiere recording of the
Piano Trio from 1993, featuring
Irina Schnittke, the composer’s wife.
The Sony project is faster, a bit more
flowing than the somber Barbican reading,
but I might prefer the latter’s sobriety
just a bit more, and the Black Box recording
is even finer-grained. In short, this
is an outstanding addition to the Schnittke
canon. As the years pass since the untimely
death of this extraordinary composer,
we are lucky to have so many of his
masterworks archived with such excellent
performances and recordings.
Bruce Hodges