MIASKOVSKY: Cello Sonata No. 1 in D Major, Op. 12; Cello Sonata No. 2 in A minor, Op. 81; PROKOFIEV: Ballade for Cello and Piano in C minor, Op. 15; TANEYEV: Canzona for Cello and Piano – Gavel Gomziakov, cello/ Andrei Korobenikov, piano – Onyx Classics ONYX 4176, 61:02 (4/20/19) [Distr. Harmonia mundi/PIAS] *****:
Nikolai Miaskovsky (1881-1950) benefitted from instruction from various Russian instructors—Rimsky-Korsakov, Liadov, Gliere, and Scriabin—influences that did not overwhelm his natural lyricism and basic conservatism. In 1948, Soviet authorities accused him, Shostakovich, Khachaturian, and Prokofiev of “formalism,” of favoring musical styles antithetical to the spirit of the people. The two cello sonatas by Miaskovsky derive from opposites ends of his creative life, the First Sonata in D (1911; rev. 1935) echoes with the Romantic ethos we know from the Rachmaninov Sonata in terms of lyricism and athletic virtuosity. The music opens, Andante, with the cello’s deep tones (espressivo) in harmony with bell-like octaves in the keyboard. The 1725 Stradivari Chevillard – Rei de Portugal instrument does much to resonate the beauty of this section, whose second theme quite enthralls us. The writing becomes militant (forte, molto marcato) as the development section once more embraces the romantic main theme. The somber melancholy segues directly into the second movement, Allegro passionato, sporting another potent melody, here in 6/8 against the keyboard arpeggios. The secondary subject falls into F Major stated staccato, espressivo, ma semplice, 6/8 and 9/8. The tumultuous development becomes thick in texture, leading to the recapitulation that places the second subject as a casual cantabile in B-flat Major. With a potent climaThe x, triple forte, the music restates the sentiment of the opening Adagio, ending pianissimo. As a vehicle for Gomziakov’s instrument, the sonata serves brilliantly, even luxuriously, so its omission from standard cello recitals seems inexplicable.
The Cello Sonata No. 2 (1948) is one of Miaskovsky’s last works, written after the notorious denunciation of him, when he suffered ill health as well. A three movement work, its first two movements are predominantly lyrical while the third is much more athletic and virtuosic, fit for the work’s dedicatee Rostropovich. One scholar sees the first movement, Allegro moderato, as embodying a “romance archetype,” whole others see the movement as understated and essentially personal and withdrawn. The opening melody, notwithstanding, has a “million dollar sonority,” whatever its intent. In sonata-form, the arioso attraction of the harmonious collaboration of cello and piano spins out without turmoil, until, perhaps, the F-sharp minor appearance of the second subject in the muted cello during the recapitulation. Pianist Korobeinikov adds some beguiling passagework to the mix, well convincing us of his – and Miaskovsky’s – capacities for ardent expression.
The second movement, marked Andante cantabile – perhaps in homage to Tchaikovsky – sits in F Major in rocking accompaniment, but it quickly adds a sterner, declamatory element into the mix. The lyric song becomes elastic and elongated, with no loss of inspiration. The intensity continues only to retreat slowly into reverie, the cello and the piano arpeggios only more to utter a last, passionate gasp before fading away. The last movement, Allegro con spirito, proffers a rondo-finale set in brisk 16ths, with a highly contrasting secondary tune. The arched melody that ensues has a bit of oriental languor. Designed for Rostropovich, the writing assumes a clearly virtuosic demeanor, allowing the instrument’s middle and high registers full voice. The last pages become bolder, more manic, with no loss of lyrical fluency. The keyboard runs and cascades prove just nimble and effortlessly fleet. The last cadence combines a diminuendo and a sudden fortissimo.
The turbulent Ballade in C minor, Op. 15 (1912) of Serge Prokofiev had been a tribute to cellist Nikolai Ruzsky, a wealthy businessman and amateur chamber music enthusiast. On first audition of the work, Miaskovsky commented that the piece would be ideal for Pablo Casals. Huge, broad gestures have a counter impulse in the middle section, incisive, biting, and realized pizzicato that evolves into a gripping, declamatory statement. The music suddenly breaks off into an Andante, senza espressione, dreamy, and featuring the muted cello. The angular keyboard part introduces harmonies reminiscent of the D Major Piano Concerto, Op. 10. The muddy, thick texture of the closing pages grands down to a halt, gloomy, unearthly, and disturbing. Prokofiev and cellist Evsei Belousov gave the debit of this weirdly compelling piece in Moscow, January 1914.
Sergei Taneyev (1865-1915) composed his Canzona in F minor in 1883, originally for clarinet and strings. A pure lyric, its six-minute ternary song passes us in graceful gestures, without bombast, without guile. As an encore vehicle for our two principals, it provides an elegant finale to “sleeper” disc that must not pass us by unnoticed. Jean-Martial Golaz receives credit for the mesmerizing sonics.
—Gary Lemco
