Thanks to the tireless
efforts and dedication of the Boris Tchaikovsky Society
his music is now reasonably well represented in the catalogue.
Most of those recorded performances are drawn from the
Society’s archives; none the worse for that.
This release offers modern
recordings of three works spanning some twenty-five years
of Tchaikovsky’s composing career. It provides an interesting
outline of his musical progress.
The
Clarinet
Concerto is the earliest work here. Scored
for strings, three trumpets and timpani, and playing
for less than a quarter of an hour, it is more a concertino
than a concerto. This early piece already displays
the Tchaikovsky hallmarks. Its three concise movements
do not adhere to the traditional pattern. There is
a moderately fast movement followed by two fast ones,
and no real slow movement. As I remarked when reviewing
another recording of it (Northern Flowers NF/PMA 9918
- see
review), the music is generally light-hearted
and playful, often
bringing Malcolm Arnold to mind, particularly in the
carefree third movement. Mere coincidence, I suppose,
but this gives a good idea of what to expect from this
delightful work.
By
contrast, the
Piano Concerto is more substantial
and is in five movements. It is a major work from the composer’s
mature years. As in some other mature pieces by Tchaikovsky,
the music is elusive and sometimes enigmatic. However,
it is not intrinsically difficult. It is not avant-garde
music at all. The difficulty rather lies in the disparity
of its components which can seem difficult to reconcile
and put into perspective. In fact, Tchaikovsky’s large-scale
works are often laid-out in a rather kaleidoscopic manner
favouring abrupt contrasts. This factor makes a global
view of the whole work not readily perceptible. The first
movement plays with a stubborn rhythmical gesture that
is not developed as such, but varied by the ever-changing
orchestral environment. The second movement, in complete
contrast, is a beautiful song-like reverie with an important
part for double bass. The third movement is an obstinate
Scherzo, alternating ghost-like episodes and furious, sardonic
outbursts from the percussion. The fourth movement opens
with galloping hunting horns, soon imitated by piano and
orchestra. Formally, this movement is roughly laid-out
as a varied Rondo, with some brilliant piano writing. The
final movement looks back at the first movement; it too
is based on a simple rhythmic pattern resourcefully varied
throughout. A remarkable feature of this highly idiosyncratic
music is the composer’s predilection for the horn section,
something that may be heard regularly in many of his works
(e.g.
Chamber Symphony,
Second Symphony,
Sebastopol Symphony and
Symphony
with Harp, to name but a few). Moreover, if Shostakovich’s
imprint may be discerned from time to time, it is worth
noting that the music is strongly personal throughout this
imposing, if puzzling major work.
On
the other hand, the cantata
Signs of the Zodiac does
not pose so many questions. Formally, it resembles Gerald
Finzi’s cantata
Dies Natalis: an orchestral
prelude presenting the main theme of each of the vocal
settings that follow. The disparate element, here is the
selection of the poems, covering some one hundred years
of Russian poetry; Britten did that sort of things too.
The first setting is of Tyutchev’s
Silentium! with
words that might have come from a disillusioned Soviet
poet’s pen: “Be silent, keep away, and hide/Your feelings
and your dreams ...”. The setting of Blok’s
Far Out reflects
the irony of the poet’s words: the living world as heard
by those
far out (in their graves), under “the coffin-lid
... our safeguard”. The crux of the cantata is the marvellous,
gripping setting of Tsvetaeva’s
Cross O’Four Roads in
which the poet ponders on her own demise. Typically enough,
by Tchaikovsky’s standards, the final setting
Signs
of the Zodiac (words by Zabolotsky) is deceptively
simple, set as a nursery rhyme putting the often black
humour of the words into sharp relief. The string writing
is masterly throughout, often quite brilliant and remarkably
inventive; and thus strongly contrasts with the apparently
simple vocal writing. The ambit of the vocal part is often
limited, with wider steps used for the sake of emphasis.
In many respects the vocal writing compares with that of
Tchaikovsky’s other great vocal cycle
Lyrics of Pushkin:
simplicity resulting in powerful eloquence.
Signs
of the Zodiac is an unquestionable masterpiece,
a deeply moving work that definitely deserves wider exposure
and that is likely to gain it with this fine performance.
There is not much to choose between this reading and that
in the Northern Flowers disc. Both readings are equally
committed, eloquent and convincing; but the Naxos recording
is cleaner.
Tchaikovsky’s
utterly personal music is well served by all concerned;
and this very fine release, providing a good introduction
to this distinguished composer’s music is well worth having
and that would be so even on the strength of
Signs
of the Zodiac.
Hubert
Culot
Olga Solovieva
(piano)a; Anton Prischepa (clarinet)b;
Yana Ivanilova (soprano)c; Irina Goncharova
(harpsichord)c 
