As well as being a celebration of the life of the cellist/conductor
Mstislav Rostropovich who died on 27 April 2007 this is a wide-ranging,
even chaotically varied cross-section of cello repertoire associated
with him. The predominance may rest with 20th century
repertoire but the first three discs centre on baroque and romantic
eras. Rostropovich the conductor appears as such in the Landowski
‘Le Prison’ alongside his wife, the soprano Galina Vishnevskaya.
If you need to hear more of Rostropovich the conductor then don’t
neglect his EMI Classics Tchaikovsky symphonies box (50999512949327)
or his Warner boxes of the complete symphonies of Shostakovich
(2564641772) and Prokofiev (2564696755). Perfectly complementary
to this set with Rostropovich the cellist are two other boxes:
Brilliant Classics’ ‘Rostropovich Edition (Historic Russian Archives)’
92771 and long-deleted but even more extensive EMI Classics’ ‘Rostropovich
– The Russian Years’ (1950-1974) CZS72435720129.
The first disc is
a rather commandingly balanced recital for Cello and Organ.
Until we get to Rheinberger and Saint-Saëns these
are works derived from the pre-romantic eras. They are however
given the intimate romantic treatment. There’s no trace of HIP
here and gloriously indulgent too with the cello warming the
cockles of the hardest heart. There’s a break from such radiance
in the slim-line cantabile delicacy of the suite by Louis
de Caix d’Hervelois where Tachezi exchanges the organ for
the harpsichord. The contented warmth returns in three gentle
movements from Rheinberger’s op. 150 – a work originally
for violin and organ. The collector’s item is the lovely breathy
Pastorale – again a natural for Classic FM. The Saint-Saëns
Pričre concludes this beautifully recorded and caramel-moody
selection.
The singing and
dignified Vivaldi Concerto RV406 swings along with some
superbly differentiated dynamics from soloist and orchestra.
The Tartini is more early-romantic in feel with a redolence
of Haydn and some remarkable horn writing. The passionate depths
of the C.P.E. Bach Adagio suit Rostropovich well
and he loses no time in capitalising on its romantic tendencies
before the gallant effusion of the Allegro assai sets
in. He is back in alma mater territory for what I take
to be his last recording of the Dvořák Concerto
(CD3). Here he is joined by the Boston Symphony with Seiji Ozawa.
There is some lovely sprightly playing from the Bostonians and
ever so slightly watery but deeply affecting horn playing by
the Boston principal. Things flow eloquently as expected but
there are a few moments when the soloist’s playing actually
seems a little laboured. Overall though this is a lovely performance
and the poignant alertness and bounce of the finale is notable.
The Tchaikovsky Rococo Variations are suitably
stately and neatly pointed in every department. Not for the
first time did I note Rostropovich’s witchery-quiet and rhythmically
mercurial playing. It vies with that of a younger Russian viola
player, Yuri Bashmet, on a remarkable Onyx disc, Reminiscences.
Ozawa is there again
– this time with the LSO - for the Prokofiev Symphony-Concerto.
Here Rostropovich is in sovereign form throughout a work not
lacking in cross-references with the Romeo and Juliet ballet.
The recording is wonderfully full of life to match the playing
in this Cinderella among Prokofiev’s works. The Halffter
dates from 1985 written for the fiftieth anniversary of the
assassination of Federico Garcia Lorca. The work’s title translates
as ‘Nothing is left but silence’. It’s a big work – as big as
the Dvořák but very different. In its nuanced wispy dissonance,
Penderecki-slaloming strings, raw woodwind chords, awareness
of the silence between notes and statuesque subtle percussion
it speaks a language of angst. There seems more tragedy in this
score and fear for the future than consolation. Powerfully atmospheric
stuff.
The connection with
French composers is patent. Jolivet’s Second Concerto
was commissioned by Rostropovich and premiered by him in Moscow
in 1967. Although the lyrical lines are clearer and the language
has more emphasis and a less diaphanous signature than the Halffter
this is still fairly tough as the long first movement proclaims.
It is however touched with a Bergian tenderness especially evident
in the middle movement Aria. The Concerto ends in a smoking
and vituperatively angular finale which lasts an exciting 2:03.
The Shostakovich 1 is splendid as a performance and as
a recording - try the smooth start of the Moderato -
although I still cherish memories of the coarsely virile recording
made in the 1960s by Mikhail Khomitser. I had never heard of
Moret – my loss. His three movement Cello Concerto of
1989 is richly detailed in a fairly modern idiom but not all
that difficult and sometimes viscerally exciting especially
in the first and last movements. There are some refracted Debussian
moments in the Chanson d’Amour central movement before
the strenuous and volatile Chanson du vent d’ouest finale
based on Shelley.
Back to the French
connection for the little First Cello Concerto by Milhaud
written in 1935. It’s a complete charmer – almost Elgarian and
certainly smilingly sauntering in its counter-melody in the
first movement – unsurprisingly titled Nonchalant. Each
movement is a contrast but charm is never that distant in the
final Joyeux which seems to switch locale to the metropolitan
pavements of Rio de Janeiro. Do try to hear his Suite Cisalpine
for the same forces on a well-filled VoxBox.
After this compact little cassation concerto we change locale
again to the mindscapes of Welsh composer Alun Hoddinott
for his diptych Noctis Equi – horses of the night: suggested
by words from Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus. It’s another
subtle work yet with a really powerful pull. Modern yet far
from thorny there is much of fibrous and poetic strength here.
Try his Horn Concerto on Lyrita
and the idiom and virtuoso demands at the service of expression
rather than display will be familiar. Penderecki’s major
Second Cello Concerto was written in 1983 for the centenary
of the Berlin Philharmonic. It buzzes with tension, malcontent
and anxiety – a mood paralleling that of the Halffter. This
is a single movement work accordingly allocated a single track
on CD 6. Written for and premiered by Rostropovich – as with
so many of the works here – this reading has the additional
grit and authority that goes with the composer conducting the
Philharmonia.
Like the Milhaud,
the Honegger dates from the 1930s. It too was premiered
by Maurice Maréchal. It has a contented mien and is most smoothly
serenaded to us by Rostropovich – lovely. Honegger however stirs
the waters from time to time and the effect is aided by another
stunning widespread sound-stage. Its second movement has hints
of Bloch’s familiar Jewish sway but cobwebs are blown away by
the ebullience of the Allegro marcato. The delicate Ravelian
tapestry of Gagneux’s Triptyque is like a spell
in three parts. It’s a fascinating, inventive and engaging piece
– not without its contemporary gestures but constantly engaging
mind and heart. Rostropovich’s countryman Shchedrin takes
the mood of his 38 minute Sotto Voce concerto (1994)
from Beethoven’s Pastoral but he does so in the freest
possible way. The music of this tender and confidingly fragile
work is another highlight of the set rising to impressive affirmation
seeded with tragedy in the outbursts in the long finale (4.30
tr. 10, CD7). The Shchedrin exists in at least one other recording
on Ondine
where the soloist is Marko Ylönen. The Ondine set reminds us
that this Shchedrin concerto is part of a group linked with
the composer’s childhood memories of the town of Aleksin – atown
bulldozede by the Soviets. The other two works are concertos
for Violin (Vengerov
– an EMI recording conducted by Rostropovich) and for Viola
(Bashmet – unrecorded).
The French composer
Marcel Landowski is represented in this set by two works.
Warner and Erato have done proud by him. They have very recently
released an eight-CD box of his works which I hope to review
(“Marcel Landowski - The Complete Erato Recordings”: Piano Concerto
No. 2; Concerto for Ondes Martenot, string orchestra and percussion;
Concerto for trumpet and electro-acoustic instruments; Symphony
No. 1 “Jean de la Peur”; Symphony No. 3 “Des Espaces”;
Symphony No. 4; Symphony No. 2; Le Fantôme de l’Opéra (excerpts);
Un Enfant appelle; La Prison; La Vieille Maison;
Messe de l’Aurore; 4 Pieces for trumpet and organ; Le
Fou; Warner Classics: 2564 69591-7). You should not forget
his Violin Concerto played by Menuhin on an all-Landowski CD
from EMI Classics in 1997 (724355634924).
Landowski’s Un
enfant appelle (1979) is a triptychal song-cycle for soprano
- in this case Vishnevskaya - and orchestra, here conducted
by Rostropovich. It is in the finest perfumed Gallic tradition
but here lifted very gently by the feathery breeze of Landowski’s
essentially lyrical style; there’s also a strong presence from
the trumpet in the second song. It’s a lovely performance too
with the singer still in very fine voice. La Prison –
an unconventional work that stands tall in this company - is
for soprano, solo cello and orchestra. The composer referred
to it as a ‘concerto-opera’. Like the song-cycle it is in three
movements. The music can be fierily dramatic; theatrical in
fact but also splendidly detailed and bristling with imaginative
touches often from the brass and percussion. The slow dripping
of time is evoked in the final poetic section. This provides
a gripping ostinato for the solo cello and the soprano’s magnificently
acted, spoken, laughed and sung role. The words - which in the
case of the second work are by the composer - are not reproduced
in the booklet.
There’s not much
music by Russian composers in this set but the final disc comprises
a major work by Alexander Knaifel – an ex-student of
Rostropovich from the early 1960s. It is performed by three
choirs with the tenderest ministrations of Rostropovich’s solo
cello often playing very quietly indeed and in registers far
up in the stratosphere. The work is heard here in its world
premiere live recording in Washington. Across six separately
tracked sections, and in burnished golden warmth, the recording
conspires in rendering this beautifully contemplative, quiet
and emotionally fragile hour-long work to best advantage. The
music has about it nothing of the avant-garde (perhaps a little
in section 5) and nothing of the theatre. It instead draws,
deep and sincere, on the lyrical wellsprings of the Russian
choral tradition. Russian orthodox chant, Rachmaninov’s Vespers,
the choral writing of Kastalsky and the tradition gloriously
upheld by Alexander Sveshnikov – all these provide the lode
for this wonderfully sincere and velvet-luminous music. The
composer was born in Tashkent in Uzbekistan. He wrote the operas
The Canterville Ghost and Alice in Wonderland
having studied composition with Boris Arapov in Leningrad (1964-1967).
The booklet notes
are compact but address each of the major works. They are in
English, French and German. Full discographical details are
given for these predominantly digital recordings.
This is a zanily variegated
and enterprising selection. In many cases we hear works commissioned,
dedicated and premiered by Rostropovich. Glorious playing throughout.
An opportunity to catch up with recordings issued piecemeal by
Warners and their predecessor companies over a period of 25 years.
Rob Barnett