Sergei Dukachev has made several recordings for Dunelm. 
          After postgraduate study at the Moscow Conservatoire, he was a semi-finalist 
          in the Beethoven Competition (Vienna) in 1989. He was appointed Artist-in-Residence 
          at Royal Holloway, University of London, in 2000. 
        
 
        
For the present offering, Dukachev has chosen a demanding 
          hour's worth, particularly when one considers that, according to the 
          recording information given, it was recorded in one day. The choice 
          of Beethoven's early C major Sonata was brave, therefore: it is notoriously 
          tricky and, indeed, some wrong notes do slip in to the more exacting 
          passages. Perhaps more disturbing, at least initially, is the fairly 
          reverberant setting - yet despite this ambience, the actual piano sound 
          seems a little lacking in body. 
        
 
        
Russian literalism informs much of the Adagio, and 
          despite some impressive moments (Dukachev's heavy bass invokes organ 
          pedals excellently at one point), he fails to penetrate much below the 
          music's surface. The cheeky third movement comes off quite well, despite 
          some rhythmic clipping in the Scherzo (the Trio could have been more 
          fantastical, also). This is, in general, a fairly enjoyable reading 
          (the fiddly finger-work of the finale, which can sound awkward, is here 
          well managed), but not one to return to on a regular basis. 
        
 
        
The slightly light use of the sustaining pedal that 
          Dukachev applies to Ravel gives the Pavane a literal feel. The 
          tempo is nice and flowing, but the antique/mystique element is missing, 
          and chords are occasionally snatched at. Jeux d'eau, one of Ravel's 
          most popular pieces, is fluid and fluent, but textures unfortunately 
          messy at one point. Perhaps even more delicacy is called for here (and 
          the inclusion of the careless clearing of the pedal on the very final 
          chord is a serious error). 
        
 
        
Schumann's Kreisleriana of 1838, a set of eight 
          fantasy pieces, is a marvellous but elusive example of Schumann's highly 
          individual language. Dukachev cannot be mentioned in the same breath 
          as the great interpreters of this piece: Horowitz (DG 445 599-2), Argerich 
          (DG 410 653-2), Lupu (Decca 440 496-2) etc. Dukachev is largely accurate 
          but rarely exciting. After easing into the music well, he is often unstable 
          (he does not seem to know what to do with Schumann's characteristically 
          obsessive repetitions in the 'Molto agitato', for example). Certainly 
          he needs to get closer to the soul of this quirky composition, which 
          only reveals its secrets after long and involved immersion in the music 
          of Robert Schumann. 
        
 
        
Despite some impressive and beautiful moments along 
          the way, this recital does not add up to more than the sum of its parts. 
        
 
        
Colin Clarke