Valentin SILVESTROV (b. 1937)
Piano Sonata No. 1 (1972) [15:04]
Classical Sonata (1963 rev 1974) [10:33]
Piano Sonata No. 2 (1975) [16:56]
Children's Music I (1973) [15:03]
Piano Sonata No. 3 (1979) [15:18]
Nostalghia (2001) [5:07]
Simon Smith (piano)
rec. 12 December 2013, 10 May 2014, 17 January 2015, Reid Concert Hall, University
of Edinburgh, Scotland
DELPHIAN DCD34151 [78:09]
The Ukrainian Valentin Silvestrov is one of a group of composers
who came to international notice after the fall of the Soviet Union. Others
in this group include the Georgian Giya Kancheli and the Estonian Arvo Pärt,
the best known of all. They have in common having grown up under the Soviet
system, with its demands for cheerful tuneful music which would make an immediate
popular appeal, then having experimented with Western avant-garde techniques
before arriving at a personal style.
Silvestrov has been quite prolific: there are eight symphonies, three string
quartets and a good deal of chamber and piano music. His breakthrough work
was his Fifth Symphony, which dates from 1982 and of which there are several
recordings (Kofman
~ Saraste
~ Borejko).
However, the availability of his other symphonies has been patchy; the
Sixth is on ECM. His works often suggest they have been composed in the
aftermath of something tremendous which has not been articulated; he is fond
of the title Postludium or something similar. At its best his music
has a haunting beauty and a wonderful power of evocation. Perhaps you also
have to be in the right mood to appreciate it fully.
Here we have a selection of his piano music, including all three of his piano
sonatas as well as the unnumbered Classical Sonata. All these are
early works, and you can hear him gradually finding his own idiom by exploring
various idioms from the past and present.
The Piano Sonata No. 1 opens with a fugue on a meandering
subject in a shimmering haze with both the sustaining and una corda
pedals deployed. It sounds like the memory of some earlier unknown work. Occasionally
you get a hint of a composer from Bach to Debussy shot through with the ambiguous
harmony of Busoni or Hindemith. The idiom, though not obviously challenging,
is elusive. The second and last movement is formally a rondo, though it does
not sound very different from the first.
The Classical Sonata is modelled on Mozart thought
it does not sound very like him. The first movement begins skittishly though
there is a contrasting second subject and the occasional percussive passage.
The slower middle movement is closer to Mozart, though perhaps seen from the
far side of the slow movement of Ravel’s G major piano concerto. The
finale is another rondo, where the main theme seems classical enough, but
the contrasting episodes are quite different in character and idiom.
The Piano Sonata No. 2 is the most obviously modernistic
work here. It begins in a splintered post-Webernian idiom which was briefly
popular, at least with composers, in the 1960s and 1970s. Gradually this moves
towards a more traditional declamatory style. We then have a passage featuring
the strange sounds of the palms of the hands directly on the lower strings.
Gradually the murk clears and percussive triplets take over. This is followed
by an evocation of Ukrainian folk music. In the final section two parts in
the high treble follow and imitate each other. This is an impressive though
perhaps imperfectly integrated work.
As a contrast we then have Children’s Music 1,
the first of two sets of short works which are more evocative of childhood
than teaching pieces in themselves, though some of them could be played by
children. The whole set show the obvious influence of Bartók’s Mikrokosmos
and folk arrangements and to a lesser extent that of earlier teaching pieces
such as those by Schumann. After a gentle Lullaby, Modern Dance
starts innocently enough but the dancers would soon be tripping over their
feet with the irregular rhythms. Gratitude is Schumannesque, while
Astonishment features wide leaps and repeated chords like the second
of Schoenberg’s Six Little Piano Pieces. Old Melody
is simple to the point of naivety with a melody over simple harmonies. The
Dragon and the Bird, subtitled Fantastic Sonatina, is the most
extended of the set and sounds like a child’s version of Messiaen’s
La parole toute-puissante from the Vingt Regards. The final
Morning Ditty is straightforward and tuneful.
With the Piano Sonata No. 3 we have Silvestrov’s mature
idiom. The Preludio has an arresting opening but soon subsides into
slower sustained harmonies with brief flurries of notes. This moves into the
Fuga, which, however, is almost impossible to follow as such as the
subject consists of long notes separated from one another. The surrounding
figuration gets more and more elaborate. The closing Postludio is
an early version of Silvestrov’s characteristic form; it seems to search
without finding.
Finally we have Nostalghia, a much later work. Fragments
and wisps of melody suggest a vanished world known only as it slips away.
It even seems to end in the middle of a phrase.
In works such as these, everything depends on subtlety in the touch and skilful
management of the pedals. There is little if any technical virtuosity required,
though the content requires emotional maturity. Amateur pianists might like
to try some of these works – there is so little contemporary or recent
piano music which does not demand an advanced technique. Simon Smith has specialised
in contemporary composers, mainly Scottish, and is in obvious sympathy with
the idiom. In any case I am not aware of any competition for this disc. The
recording is clear and the resonance of the piano is beautifully caught. There
is an informative sleeve-note, in English only, but curiously it does not
follow the sequence of the works on the disc, which is also the chronological
one. Silvestrov is worth getting to know and Delphian’s enterprise deserves
support.
Stephen Barber
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