Ivan KARABITS (1945-2002) 
          Concerto for Orchestra No.1 Musikalnoe prinosheniye Kievu (Musical 
          Gift to Kiev) (1980-81)* [12:36] 
          Concerto for Orchestra No.2 (1986)*[17:05] 
          Concerto for Orchestra No.3 Holosinnya (Lamentations) 
          (1989)* [16:19] 
          Valentin SILVESTROV (b.1937) 
          Elegie (2002) [6:20] 
          Abschiedsserenade (2003) [7:06] 
          Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra/Kirill Karabits 
          rec. The Lighthouse, Poole, Dorset, UK, 14-15 June 2010. 
          *World Première Recordings 
          NAXOS 8.572633 [59:26]
        
	     This CD is something of a double whammy for me since 
          I’d never heard of Ivan Karabits before - though I knew of his 
          son Kirill, who is the conductor here - and all three of his compositions 
          here are world première recordings. What I heard really impressed 
          me and has sparked a burning desire to explore his musical world further. 
          
            
          When I was a child I remember telling my mother that I wasn’t 
          sure I liked chamber music very much. She replied that it was an acquired 
          taste that she was confident I would one day acquire. She was right 
          - aren’t all mothers. Later I went through a period of enjoying 
          chamber music to such an extent that I began to find orchestral music 
          over-fussy. I likened it to having a four course meal all on the same 
          plate and not being able to sort the hors d’oeuvres and 
          dessert from the main course. If I still felt that way I would certainly 
          make an exception for Kirill Karabits’ music. After all, it appeals 
          to my interest in being open to try different things, whether food-related 
          - I’d never refuse a sheep’s eyeball if I hadn’t tried 
          it first - or music-related. 
            
          Karabits, born in Yalta, Ukraine in 1945 studied first with Boris Lyatoshynsky 
          then Myroslav Skoryk before becoming Professor of Composition at the 
          Kiev Tchaikovsky Music Academy. He founded the Kiev Music Fest, Ukraine’s 
          leading contemporary music festival and was regarded as Ukraine’s 
          leading composer. This was particularly following the country’s 
          independence in 1991 after the collapse of the Soviet Union. The reason 
          I’d have made an exception for Karabits’ music during my 
          “anti-orchestral music phase”, if I’d have come across 
          it, is because it is so interesting, rich with invention. While it has 
          its serious moments it is also often funny and full of quirky elements. 
          Drawing inspiration from his friend and mentor the composer Rodion Shchedrin 
          who penned five concertos for orchestra Karabits’ concertos exemplify 
          his obvious flair for this style of composition. 
            
          His Concerto for Orchestra No.2 is a perfect case in point with 
          big, bold statements throughout. There’s no sense of the music 
          getting lost or not knowing where it’s headed. The overriding 
          reason this doesn’t happen with Karabits is his fantastic sense 
          of colouration. His music is a large canvas that is full of continual 
          action and interest. The concerto begins with a bold and serious statement 
          from the entire orchestra before it subsides to allow the string section 
          to continue with a somewhat fractured interlude. Eventually this gives 
          way to a more restful pastoral section. Another burst of orchestral 
          declaration is followed by a more restrained end to the movement. The 
          concerto is cast in three almost seamless movements. The second opens 
          with a tolling bell accompanied by a drum roll and cymbals. This leads 
          to what the booklet notes accurately describe as “a bleak, still 
          landscape with an eerie piccolo solo” and solemn contributions 
          from a solo cello and harp. Karabits obviously enjoyed including instruments 
          otherwise rarely employed, in this case harpsichord and celesta, which 
          are accompanied by clarinet. The movement ends on a restatement of the 
          work’s opening but now much more threatening in character. The 
          final movement marked moderato may be ‘moderate’ 
          in the accepted sense but it includes some amazing interjections from 
          the percussion section, xylophone and celesta. There’s even clapping 
          from those members of the orchestra free to do so. Things close with 
          a fascinatingly energetic, exciting and improvisatory outburst from 
          bongos and a final orchestral flourish. 
            
          The next concerto on the disc is Karabits’ two movement Third 
          Concerto which is subtitled Lamentations. This includes some 
          gloriously romantic and highly evocative music with an extremely serious 
          back-story. The concerto was commissioned by Ukrainian-American composer, 
          conductor and pianist Virko Baley. It takes as its inspiration two tragedies 
          that befell the Ukraine in the twentieth century: the famine of 1932-33 
          that ensued following the Stalinist policy of forced collectivisation 
          of agriculture and the Chernobyl nuclear disaster of 1986. Collectivisation 
          affected Ukraine, the principal wheat-growing area of the country especially 
          severely. It resulted in over 7 million deaths from starvation while 
          the repercussions from Chernobyl are still being felt. 
            
          The gentle sound of triangles opens the concerto. A solitary horn enters 
          playing a Ukrainian folk tune. A thin violin sound with harp and then 
          cello accompaniment later emerges. This is together with a special instrument 
          developed by the composer and his then thirteen-year-old son Kirill, 
          the conductor on this disc. This is made from the weaving of tiny bells 
          into tresses of hair giving the most incredible and unusual sound. It 
          just has to be heard. The bells represent ‘the voices that we 
          hear from the past’. In this way the ‘lamentations’ 
          of the title refer not just to the two tragedies but to the ritual chanting 
          that in the Ukraine accompanies events such as funerals, something common 
          to many cultures. The strings then take up this solemnity leading to 
          a solo clarinet that plays mournfully. Rising waves of orchestral sound 
          are accompanied by a fully exploited percussion section increasing in 
          volume until the movement concludes with the sounds of flexatones. These 
          brilliantly evoke a ghoulish atmosphere that presumably represents the 
          spectre of famine and death. The second movement opens with the rising 
          sound of the orchestra packed with colour until this gives way to allow 
          bongos to play briefly before the rising intensity of the orchestra 
          reaches a peak that gives way to the sound of tiny bells. Karabits clearly 
          enjoys theatrical gestures and this makes his music all the more interesting. 
          At this point in the score he calls for the conductor to leave the podium 
          and play a lament on piano. Then he is joined by members of the orchestra 
          gently singing a four note scale in the manner of a lament. The flute 
          reprises the folk tune from the opening of the concerto. The work then 
          ends with everything falling away to leave the final notes on piano 
          to express the most profound grief. 
            
          Karabits’ Musical Gift to Kiev was composed to mark the 
          1500th anniversary of the city’s founding in 482 AD. 
          The composer described the concerto as an exuberant way of opening a 
          concert. This it most certainly is in much the same way as is Shostakovich’s 
          Festive Overture. There is a mixture of pealing bells and fanfares. 
          These give way to lush orchestral sounds with the sound of woodwind 
          spiralling upwards and the celesta and tubular bells being employed 
          once again. The whole erupts in an explosion of sound that prefaces 
          the second movement. Taking over in a seamless manner this movement 
          is a vast canvas with a veritable cornucopia of orchestral colour. Included 
          are roles for celesta, harp, flutes, woodblocks, side and snare drums, 
          tubular bells all joining the strings in a Hollywood-style declaration 
          of grandeur. Another fanfare follows before the celesta and harp gently 
          conclude the concerto. This leaves us with a sense of the timeless nature 
          of this grand and enduring city. 
            
          There would be an argument for programming all three of Karabits’ 
          concertos for orchestra in a single concert. Each is relatively short 
          and instruments rarely employed are used in all three so can be financially 
          easily justified. Add to this that these are really exciting and barnstorming 
          works that would thrill any but the most jaded of audiences. 
            
          Though I knew Valentin Silvestrov’s name I had not heard these 
          two works before and once again I was mightily impressed. Silvestrov 
          and Karabits were friends and Elegie is a work Silvestrov fashioned 
          from Karabits’ pencil sketches for a projected work based on the 
          writings of the Ukrainian philosopher Grigory Skovorda (1722-94). It 
          was written as a memorial to his friend who was working on the score 
          in the hospital where he met his untimely death. It is like a dialogue 
          between the two composers and the score gives ‘Karabits/Silvestrov’ 
          as the authors. It is dedicated to Karabits’ widow Marianna Kopystia. 
          Elegie was given its first performance in the September of the 
          year he died by his son Kirill and the Kiev Camerata. Abschiedsserenade 
          is dedicated to Ivan Karabits’ memory and was given its premiere 
          in 2003. The piece bears many likenesses to Mahler with upwardly mobile 
          strings that characterise so much of Mahler’s writing. There’s 
          also a deeply felt elegiac nature at work here and a heart-wrenchingly 
          plaintive atmosphere. This is particularly true of the short second 
          movement. It is certainly a fitting tribute from one composer to a beloved 
          colleague. 
            
          Once again Naxos has brought us works that are either world premières 
          or are rarely heard. In this case the disc introduces the public to 
          the work of Ivan Karabits who, on this strength should be heard on disc 
          and in the concert hall with increasing frequency. His music is bound 
          to delight audiences the world over. Karabits’ son Kirill directs 
          the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra wonderfully and gets the very best 
          from it with some fabulous orchestral colouration. This is an absolutely 
          brilliant disc that bowled me over and I can’t wait to discover 
          more music by these two giants of Ukrainian classical music. 
            
          Steve Arloff