I first became aware of Julius Isserlis when I bought an old 1963 
            Delta LP of him playing Scriabin’s Op.11 Preludes. The notes 
            were by René Elvin but disappointingly they were all about 
            the music and there wasn’t a word about the studious looking 
            pianist shown in a photograph on the jacket cover. His name was in 
            font twice as large as that of the composer - and in modish lower-case 
            red too. So who was Julius Isserlis, I wondered, and what else had 
            he recorded? The answer to the second part of the question was that 
            he recorded nothing else. In recent times his grandson Steven has 
            contributed online to the question of this Scriabin disc and it has 
            generated some very fruitful background. Uneven though this Scriabin 
            recording may be - he was in his mid-70s after all - it’s an 
            invaluable souvenir of the man whom Scriabin himself had recommended 
            for an American tour before the First World War. 
              
            Isserlis was born in the town of Kishinev, then in Russia, in 1888. 
            He studied successively in Kiev and Moscow - the piano under Safonov, 
            no less, at the ripe old age of ten, and composition under Taneyev. 
            In 1907 he travelled to Paris to have lessons with Charles-Marie Widor, 
            and then returned to Russia to teach in Odessa. In the post-Revolutionary 
            Soviet Union Isserlis’ life was made difficult but he secured 
            a position as a kind of roving musical ambassador, moving to Vienna. 
            History caught up with him in 1938, and he decamped to London where 
            he performed and broadcast, eventually dying in 1968. 
              
            His oeuvre for his own instrument is performed by Sam Haywood who 
            has made his own editions of much Isserlis’ music. This I would 
            characterise as old fashioned in the best sense, full of charm and 
            idiomatically laid out. There is a slightly melancholic turn of phrase 
            now and again but this is leavened by some appealingly fanciful turns 
            of phrase. The Ballade in G minor is a kind of memorial to Taneyev 
            who died in 1915 and seems to have been a most important figure in 
            Isserlis’ musical development. The E flat minor Ballade is more 
            effusive and there are some very ardent paragraphs redolent of Chopin. 
            It’s a shame that three of the ten Op.2 Preludes seem to be 
            inaccessible in the Moscow State Library - one would have thought 
            a more generous attitude would have been forthcoming for so eminent 
            an alumnus. Despite this sorry state of affairs the remaining seven 
            offer brief but sharply etched characterisation in the late nineteenth-century 
            romantic style; lyric, warm, succinct, songful, melodious, delightful. 
            
              
            There’s chinoiserie in the Prelude exotique and virtuoso 
            froth in the Toccata in fourths, whilst the Medtner-like title 
            of Skazka actually offers instead some Ravelian dapple. His 
            wit is to be savoured in the first of the three Klavierstücke 
            whilst indigenous Russian gloom is evoked in the Souvenir russe. 
            In the six brief Memories of Childhood he brings some folkloric 
            material to bear, and there’s a startling Petrouchka moment 
            in the fifth, called Marionettes. One of the most beautiful 
            of all these pieces is the plaintively-tiled Warum? Small, 
            yes, but perfectly crafted. Seven Isserlis joins Haywood to perform 
            his grandfather’s Ballade in A minor which was dedicated to 
            Casals. It’s the longest single movement at nearly nine minutes 
            and is highly effective. 
              
            Haywood, fortunately, isn’t tempted to make more of these pieces 
            than is wise. He plays them with consummate sensitivity, and has been 
            well recorded. Isserlis seems to have been a charmer and, musically-speaking, 
            a miniaturist and his works reflect an interesting channel to composition 
            in Russia in the first two decades or so of the twentieth-century. 
            
              
            Jonathan Woolf 
            
          Track listing 
            Ballade in G minor, Op.3 No.1 [3:35]: Ballade in E 
            flat minor, Op.3 No.2 [5:07} 
            Moment triste [1:49] 
            from Ten Preludes, Op.2 ; No.1 in C major [2:31]: No.2 in C 
            minor [2:00]: No.4 in B minor [1:27]: No.6 in F minor [1:31]: No.7 
            in F minor [1:33]: No.8 in E flat major [1:30]: No.10 in G minor [1:18] 
            
            Prelude exotique, Op.10 No.2 [2:24] 
            Toccata in fourths, Op.10 No.1 [1:42] 
            Ballade in A minor, for cello and piano [8:40]¹ 
            Skazka, Op.6 [3:29] 
            Drei Klavierstücke, Op.8 [4:41] 
            Souvenir russe, Op.9 [2:18] 
            Capriccio in A minor, Op.12 [1:43] 
            Memories of Childhood, Op.11 [9:44] 
            Warum? [2:17] 
            Russian Dance, Op.7 [3:05]