One of the more heartening
things of the last few years has been
the attention paid to Samuil Feinberg,
both as executant and composer. This
Melodiya release neatly conjoins those
two facets of his art in presenting
the Second Concerto and the Suite.
The Concerto was composed
in 1945 and recorded the following year
in Moscow with that first class accompanist
Nicolai Anosov conducting the USSR State
Symphony Orchestra. It’s an unusual
work, quixotic and not easily pinned
down, and perhaps all the more valuable
for it. Feinberg alternates puckish
whimsy with stern orchestral interjections
– added to which there’s a certain Delphic
Bachian reserve. Contrasts of deep bass
and light treble are also woven into
the fabric of a score in which the idiom
seems at least partially derived from
Medtner. The aloof lyricism of the slow
movement is enlivened by some coruscating
drama further deepened by some evocative
writing for bass clarinet. The scherzo
is a blistering ride, though the finale,
whilst reverting to the puckish spirit
of the opening is, in truth, not always
so distinguished thematically. The recording,
as one might expect of this vintage,
is rather congested and crude. It tends
to limit appreciation of the subtlety
of Feinberg’s orchestration but the
forward sound of the piano is to the
advantage of the heroic composer-executant
who delivers a powerhouse performance.
His Suite is cast in
five very brief movements, the slightest
less than a minute long. The centrepiece
is the beautifully nourishing lied that
lies at the Suite’s heart. The Allegretto
finale is full of fluid grace. The sound
is typical of Moscow recordings around
this time, 1939 – constricted. The sole
example of Feinberg’s playing of music
other than his own here comes in the
form of Beethoven’s Op.22. This receives
a highly emotive and driving reading;
left hand accents aren’t pointed with,
say, Kempff’s refinement or strategic
intent. Feinberg’s sound picture is
very much more dense, more congested
than that cultivated by the German player.
Those darker and teakier textures are
most obvious in the same sonata’s slow
movement. There’s more of everything;
more arm weight, more pedal, more obvious
depth, a blacker, bleaker place entirely.
This sonata has also been reissued on
Classical Records CR076 where it’s coupled
with Opp. 7 and 109. The CR transfer
has the piano significantly more forward
in the aural picture but Melodiya’s
transfer is otherwise decent for the
1960 vintage.
I certainly hope that
Melodiya’s Feinberg reissue programme
will explore further and wider.
Jonathan Woolf