Alexander TCHEREPNIN (1899-1977)
Chamber Music
CD 1
Piano Quintet in G, Op.44 (1927) [15:35] ¹
String Quartet No.2 in A minor, Op.40 (1926) [10:44] ¹
Piano Trio Op.34 (1925) [8:35] ²
Duo Op.49 for Violin and Cello (1932) [11:47] ²
Suite for Solo Cello Op.76 (1946) [6:09]
CD 2
Piano Sonata in A Major Op.22 (1918) [16:32]
4 Preludes Nostalgiques Op.23 (1922) [7:08]
10 Bagatelles Op.5 (1914 rev 1958) [11:36]
Prelude Op.83 No.9 [1:32]
Expression Op.81 No.9 (1951) [1:32]
8 Pieces Op.88: No.4 "Impromptu" / No.8 "Burlesque" [1:19
+ 2:43]
Etude Op.56 No.7 [3:20]
Nikolai TCHEREPNIN (1873-1945)
Melodies; ³
Le Lac du Tsar Op.16 No.3 [3:54]
Deux Légendes mystiques Op.50 [11:03]
Le Bouleau Op.33 No.4 [4:03]
Chant d’automne Op.7 No.1 [3:24]
La bougle s’est éteinte Op.21 No.3 [2:19]
Alexander Tcherepnin (piano)
Groupe Instrumental de Paris (Lionel Gali, Michel Noël, Bruno Pasquier, Robert
Bex)¹
Yan Pascal Tortelier (violin)
Paul Tortelier (cello)²
Nicolai Gedda (tenor)³
rec. Salle Wagram, Paris, May 1969 (chamber), April 1967 (piano solo), December
1973 (songs). stereo. ADD
EMI CLASSICS - 20TH CENTURY CLASSICS 9 07256 2 3 [53:11 + 70:49]
Composer-executant recordings always attract interest and when the figure
concerned is Alexander Tcherepnin, no mean pianist, and no mean composer either,
that enthusiasm is not misplaced. These recordings were made in a period between
1967 and 1973 in the Salle Wagram in Paris and attest to some highly congenial
chamber sessions with elite collaborators and colleagues.
A number of these sessions are very well known to those who follow either
composer or some of the musicians who associated with him on disc. Very recently,
for instance, the Piano Trio, Duo and Solo Suite were all reissued in an EMI
box of 20 CDs devoted to Paul Tortelier [EMI 6 88627 2].
Tcherepnin’s chamber works from the mid-1920s are fascinatingly terse. The
Piano Quintet alternates between the outer movements’ cagey attacks and the
weary pizzicato drip of the central Allegretto. The bustle and drama of the
finale, in particular, is brilliantly conveyed by the composer and the Groupe
Instrumental de Paris. The Second Quartet of 1926 is similarly given over
to moments of jagged attack, unsettled, compressed in scale. Again Tcherepnin
utilises pizzicato in the central movement as a good contrastive and colouristic
device before returning to the biting motifs with which the work began. All
over in fewer than eleven minutes too.
Tcherepnin’s Trio (Yan Pascal and Paul Tortelier, the composer himself) is
a refined opus with insinuating warmth and a folkloric finale in big boots.
It’s notable how the composer pumps out the pervasive treble writing in the
opening movement – very percussive. The folkloric hints in the slow movement
only develop after an uneasy start, but are more obvious in the finale. The
Duo for violin and cello sports some real introspection in its central Moderato,
whilst the solo suite is a multi-faceted soliloquy with folk drive, drones
and elemental pizzicato in its exciting lexicon. And the solo Suite for cello,
so richly portrayed by Paul Tortelier is a six minute work that opens with
a quasi-cadenza and includes a rather austerely lovely Largo.
The second disc gives us Tcherepnin’s solo piano works, starting with the
1919 First Sonata. There’s more than just a touch of Stravinsky about this,
though the ‘homage’ element here is more frankly baroque than neo-classical
in orientation. The powerfully assertive chordal writing of the second movement
is notable, but so too is the cinematic brio of the scherzo and the gentle,
almost childlike gravity of the finale. The four Préludes Nostalgiques (1922)
evoke reverie - stalking left hand, twinkling right in the First – as well
as more terse writing in the second. The Bagatelles are early works dating
from just before the First World War, though the composer revised them in
the late 1950s. These ten very brief pieces are certainly full of character,
even if some of it is more pianistic than strictly musical. The best are the
second, which seems to show awareness of Prokofiev, and the light-fingered
and also light-hearted sixth. The final five piano works come from considerably
later. The Prélude is a rolling toccata-boogie, an ostinato study of fulsome
vehemence. And amidst the storm of his Opp.81, 85 and 88 works, we have the
calm and balm of the earlier Op.56 No.7 Étude.
The disc is rounded off with some vocal works by Alexander’s composer father
Nikolai in which Nicolai Gedda is the august singer. The piano sound here
is rather different from what we have heard before, though the session was
also in 1973; the piano spectrum is, not unattractively, set slightly distantly,
whereas before it was certainly up-front. The songs’ ethos is traditional
late nineteenth century Russian, the climaxes are splendidly graded, the pianissimi
haunting, the piano part, whether spare or darkening – as in Le Bouleau
– worthy of note, and there is a vein of melancholy too, best exemplified
by Chant d’automne.
This is a most handy restoration. Tcherepnin’s chamber and solo piano works
have plenty of character and receiving the composer’s imprimatur - in a non–doctrinal
sense - only adds to its desirability.
Jonathan Woolf
and some further thoughts from Rob Barnett:-
The concertos and symphonies of Russian emigré Alexander Tcherepnin have been
gloriously celebrated in a Bis boxed set (BIS-CD-1717/18 – 4 CDs for the price
of 2).
This is the sixth release in the 20th-Century Classics series from EMI Classics
and intelligently and unexpectedly complements the Bis box.
EMI Classics continue to mine the most obscure corners of their vast international
treasury of recordings. This twofer must have been compiled from amongst the
contents of the most cobwebbed shelving.
The Stravinskian Piano Quintet tracks through a series of episodes, lugubrious,
morose, dense and angst-ridden flight and finally relentlessly urgent even
when it sings. The second movement is more delicate and chiming with some
gentle dissonance amid the Prokofiev style propulsion. The Second Quartet
seems to keep piling on the emotional pressure. It is haunted, knowing, fatalistic
and fearful. The middle movement is pensive and feature the high-whistling
harmonics of the violin. The Piano Trio is gently melancholic and thoughtful
but in the finale again finds Tcherepnin’s accustomed breath-defyingly relentless
sense of flight. The Duo is in five movements of pressurised and gloomy pleasure
with the occasional trimming of Hungarian-accented filigree from the violin.
The variegated movements of the Suite for solo cello wend their way through
introspection, delicacy (a folksy Risoluto), pacy athleticism and again that
burst of chasseur allegro. The solo piano pieces – played by the composer
- are full of salty interest and as with the other works Tcherepnin again
proves himself a paragon of concision. It is god to see Yan Pascal Tortelier’s
name amongst those of the other players. He is now recognised as a conductor
having won his spurs through many discs recorded for Chandos.
The songs of Alexander's father, Nikolai (1873-1945) were not familiar to
me. Nikolai was a renowned conductor in Tsarist Russia. His best known composition
is the 66 minute ballet Le pavillon d'Armide (1907) recorded by Moscow
Symphony Orchestra/Henry Shek (Marco Polo 8.223779). You should also track
down a deleted DG CD (447084-2).which includes his 14 minute symphonic poem
The Enchanted Kingdom (1910) with the Russian National Orchestra conducted
by Mikhail Pletnev. Oon Chandos there’s his 54 minute ballet Narcisse et
Echo (CHAN 9670) from Gennady Rozhdestvensky and the Residentie Orchestra
The Hague. The songs on this EMI set show a composer with sympathies firmly
fastened to those of Slav late-romanticism. The difference between father
and son’s music is like the difference between early brilliant Rimsky-doting
Stravinsky and the more severe and emotion-strapped Stravinsky of the 1920s.
The history of the Tcherepnins can be read in Gregor
Tassie’s fine article but also have a look at the Tcherepnin
website.
The notes for this set are by Martin Cotton
Tcherepnin is never effusive. Alexander may have fled Russia but his pathway
lay away from the romantic haze and possessed nostalgia of homeland-bereft
Rachmaninov and Medtner. He is instead concise and tonal producing music that
if it was a wine would be fruity sec and definitely not a voluptuously sticky
Beaume de Venise.
Rob Barnett
Fruity sec; definitely not voluptuously sticky.