Grigory KREIN (1879-1955)
Deux poèmes, Op 5b [6:41]
Cinq préludes, Op 5a [13:29]
Prélude, Op 5 [2:01]
Deux poèmes, Op 10 (publ. 1915) [6:31]
Poème, Op 16 (1916) [6:22]
Deux mazurkas, Op 19 (publ. 1926) [6:02]
Cortège mystique, Op 22 (1916) [6:02]
Trois poèmes, Op 24 (1918-23) [12:59]
Sonata No 2, Op 27 (1924) [23:51]
Jonathan Powell (piano)
rec. September 2018, Jacqueline du Pré Music Building, St Hilda’s College, Oxford
TOCCATA CLASSICS TOCC0581 [84:01]
Of the Krein brothers it’s Alexander who has thus far garnered most recordings. Alexander’s name was known for many years, partly – though obviously not exclusively – because the fourth of his set of Dances, Op 50 was arranged in 1941 by Jascha Heifetz. His slightly older brother Grigory’s career was no less distinguished, though it should be noted there were altogether seven musical brothers, four of whom were violinists. Of these, David was the most eminent instrumentalist, being the leader of the Imperial Orchestra of the Bolshoi Theatre. Grigory’s career, superbly outlined in Jonathan Powell’s booklet notes – he did the honours in Toccata’s Alexander Krein release (see review) - began as a violinist but moved decisively in the direction of composition around 1900. He travelled to Germany, where he joined Reger’s composition class in Leipzig, and then took lessons from Glière who was then living in the city. Seemingly hot-headed – he had a bust-up with Reger and infuriated the mild-mannered Glière – his arrival came in 1909 with a concert, the final rehearsal of which was attended by Scriabin, Taneyev and Medtner.
Powell has organised his programme largely chronologically. There is in this recital not so much of the modernist Krein, the composer of spicy harmonies and eerie radiance that so impressed men such as Roslavets. Nevertheless, there is much to intrigue. It’s clear that he was experimenting with advanced harmonies before he went to Reger if the Deux poèmes, Op 5b are indicative of his progress. The sense of passionate Scriabinesque density certainly suffuses the second of this opus. That continues throughout the Cinq préludes which also contains other seed bed enthusiasms. There’s certainly Scriabin but also lyric freshness reflective of Grieg (Krein had attended his final recital in Germany) along with slightly sulphurous atmospherics.
Krein is a master of harmonic compression; he packs a lot in. The decidedly post-Regerian Deux poèmes, Op 10 were published in 1915. The first is harmonically adventurous and whilst the second of the two is more straightforwardly expressive in its quiet melancholy, the diptych is valuable in its sense of explicit contrast. It’s tempting to see Poème, Op 16 in the context of the world situation, given that it dates from 1916 and is suffused with bell tolls: a funereal landscape, a dead zone of the soul, so effectively and indeed chillingly rendered by Powell. Maybe the Cortège mystique of 1916 was written in memory of Scriabin, and which despite its dappled moments incarnates a sense of spectral procession.
The two Mazurkas of 1926 take us to a different zone entirely – a somewhat sardonic approach to the dance genre, or at least one that is almost wilfully allusive. The second is rather more affable than its companion, though still not really a conventional mazurka. It heats in virtuoso fashion. The Trois poèmes, Op 24 form a set though the earliest dates from 1918 and the latter two from 1923. The last of the three is much the longest and at over eight minutes it’s the single longest piece in the programme., other than the work with which the disc ends, which is the Piano Sonata No 2 of 1924, the only piece that has been recorded before. This single-movement sonata-form work is tense, dense with familiar bell tolls and a genuine fluidity of movement and commanding range of moods. Powell plays it with exemplary style and tone colours.
I almost always feel that when recording the piano in the Jacqueline du Pré Music Building at St Hilda’s College, Oxford, that the instrument is set just slightly too far back, but I think that is also a personal question as to the extent to which one wants the piano foregrounded.
Full of almost all previously unrecorded works, the success of the recital lies squarely with Powell.
Jonathan Woolf
