Liapunov studied composition
with Tchaikovsky, Tanayev and most significantly
with Balakirev whose Oriental piano
fantasy Islamey he orchestrated
most effectively. After the Revolution,
which occurred in the year of the writing
of this his last Symphony, he left Russia
for good. He died in Paris of a heart-attack
suffered while travelling to a concert
at which he was to have performed.
There are two Liapunov
symphonies both on a large scale. The
first, also in B minor, is his Op. 12.
It is from 1887, three decades before
the Second. The composer was then 28
having graduated four years previously
and made a place for himself in the
artistic life of St Petersburg. The
work is eclectic, at times recalling
Rimsky-Korsakov with infusions from
Borodin and Tchaikovsky. Liapunov bridges
a style gulf in a way that no other
Russian does. Tchaikovskians had little
to do with the Kouchka and vice versa.
Liapunov moves with natural ease from
one camp to the other.
The Second Symphony’s
epic scale and mood places it with few
other works of that nodal and turbulent
year, 1917. Perhaps the closest contemporary
might be Josef Suk’s Ripening although
the Liapunov has more drama and tragedy
than in Suk’s reflective meditation.
For a closer mood parallel we can reach
for Miaskovsky’s Symphonies 4 and 5
- especially the Fifth from 1918. Beyond
that we can look to much earlier symphonies:
the Renaissance Symphony by Karlowicz
(recently released on Chandos), Paderewski’s
Symphony (on both Dux and Hyperion),
Rachmaninov’s Second and Tchaikovsky’s
Fifth.
The Second Symphony
was not premiered until 1950 when it
was played by the Leningrad Philharmonic
Orchestra directed by Svetlanov. He
is therefore the closest thing we get
to a performing tradition for the work.
He certainly stamps his identity on
the French radio orchestra in this live
radio concert. Even the timbre of the
orchestra is toned and sculpted to bring
back the glory days of the USSR Symphony
Orchestra. While the strings lack that
intense Soviet glare the brass bray
with satisfyingly raw passion and the
woodwind have a piercing and poignant
quality.
Liapunov’s Second is
in four substantial movements of often
super-heated emotionality. The first
starts in shade with writing recalling
Liszt's Faust Symphony. It reminisces
around Rimsky, Tchaikovsky (especially
Manfred), Scriabin (Symphony
No. 1) and, most strikingly, Miaskovsky.
An aspiring galloping figure, that is
to reappear in all the succeeding movements,
is the very archetype of the Miaskovsky
theme and manner. At 7.30 the music
certainly recalls Miaskovsky’s Symphony
No. 5 (outstandingly recorded by the
USSR Symphony Orchestra conducted by
Konstantin Ivanov on a deleted Olympia
OCD133). The movement is brought to
a close with some smashing chordal impacts.
After a Tchaikovskian scherzo the adagio
(III) is all Rimskian luxury and folksy
durability. There are more Tchaikovskian
references (Romeo and Juliet)
and it ends with the sweet troubadour
tones of Hélène Collerette's
violin solo - desolate yet sensitive.
The finale reeks of Imperial grandeur
(perhaps strange for the fateful year
1917 but then Liapunov never got on
with the Communist insurgency). The
mood is similar to that of the finales
of Glazunov 5, 6 and especially 8. It
is only in this movement that I had
my doubts about Svetlanov’s choices.
The music sometimes seems to limp along
with rather laboured emphases but this
does not take away from what is a most
satisfyingly discursive epic symphony.
This is a concert performance
as the odd cough here and there proves
but the Paris audience is by no means
as bronchial as some.
To fill out Liapunov’s
orchestral picture you might like to
try to track down two Olympia CDs. OCD
519 has Fedor Glushchenko conducting
the Moscow State SO in the Ballade
Op. 2 and the First Symphony (the
Symphony given an impassioned performance
- as stirring as that by Svetlanov in
the present Naïve recording). OCD
129 has a good selection of Liapunov's
shorter pieces. There is the Solemn
Overture on Russian themes - monumentally
grandiloquent in its final pages; Zelazowa
Wola - poetic as befits its Chopin-based
inspiration and Balakirev-inflected;
Hashish - a major oriental tone
poem; an exercise in freewheeling fantasy.
It is more Borodin than Griffes; a tangy
Polonaise and Liapunov's buzzingly
Rimskian orchestration of his teacher,
Balakirev's Islamey. The USSR
SO are conducted by Yevgeny Svetlanov.
With these three discs
you have all the Liapunov orchestral
works apart from the two piano concertos.
If you have pretensions towards comprehensive
representation you should also track
down the Etudes d'Exécution
Transcendante (à la mémoire
de François Liszt). Either
the Malcolm Binns (Pearl) or Shcherbakov
(Marco Polo) versions will serve.
Do not let this epic
late-late romantic symphony pass you
by. In Svetlanov's hands it goes with
a confident swing and broods with the
intensity of vintage Tchaikovsky and
Miaskovsky.
Rob Barnett