Russian Music for Cello and Piano = MYASKOVSKY: Sonata No. 2 in A Minor, Op. 81, for Cello and Piano; SCRIABIN: Etude, Op. 8, No. 11 (transcribed by Gregor Piatigorsky); SCHNITTKE: Musica nostalgica for cello and piano; PROKOFIEV: Adagio from “Ten Pieces from Cinderella,” Op. 97; RACHMANINOFF: Sonata in G Minor, Op. 19 – Wendy Warner, cello / Irina Nuzova, piano – Cedille CDR 900000 120 (release date 8/31/10) [Distr. by Naxos], 68:53 ****:
Strangest piece of all, as you might expect, is Scnittke’s Musica nostalgica, which sounds like the work of a Russian Fritz Kreisler, one of those pseudo-Baroque recital pieces with which the violinist fooled his public back in more musically innocent days of the last century. (And despite the wailing and gnashing of teeth over the general decline in music education and appreciation, consider that Kreisler wouldn’t be able to foist his patently phony imitations on today’s audiences: they’re just too sophisticated, thanks to the wide availability of recorded music.) Schnittke’s piece starts off convincingly enough with a series of double-stops right out of Bach’s Cello Suites but then veers into strange territory as the cello tosses ever more harmonically challenged chords and high harmonics into the mix. Call this Schittnike’s Musical Joke. You can’t just chalk it up to his typical polystylism; he’s obviously laughing up his sleeve.
No joking around in Myaskovsky’s Sonata No. 2, written (as was Schnittke’s piece) for Mstislav Rostropovich. The Sonata sounds like it might have come from the beginning of the composer’s career—with its ripe melancholy themes and simple harmonies—but instead it comes from the very end, following the Soviet authorities’ denunciation of Myaskovsky and other leading Russian composers in 1948. It may have been a way to deflect the criticism. In any event, it’s a lovely work even if it almost seems to predate Rachmaninoff’s confidently late-Romantic Sonata in G Minor of 1901.
Of the other pieces on this program, Scriabin’s Etude Opus 8, No. 11, comes from that composer’s early, Chopin-inspired phase. It’s marked Andante cantabile and has the same air of melancholy that hangs over the slow music in the Myaskovsky and Rachmaninoff works. Piatigorsky’s singing transcription of the piece emphasizes this feature.
The Prokofiev is taken from Ten Pieces from Cinderella, most of which are lighter, brighter bits from that ballet. The Adagio is probably the most serious and reflective of all and even in this transcription (by Piatigorsky again, I believe) is instantly identifiable as Prokofiev, with its open chords in the piano, its odd, plaintive turns of phrase. As with most of Prokofiev’s work from the Soviet period, the Adagio uses a simpler, less overtly modernist musical language to get its point across. Still, Romantic is not a word that comes immediately to mind when I think of it. I’m glad for its inclusion nonetheless.
Chicago cellist Wendy Warner plays with a rich tone and spot-on intonation as well as a perfect understanding of the subtle and not-so-subtle stylistic differences that inform this music of different eras, different esthetics. Her partner, Moscow-born and American-educated Irina Nuzova, is in full accord with Warner, whether supplying the ripe chords of the Scriabin or the intricate passagework of the Rachmaninoff.
Cedille’s sound favors Warner, capturing her instrument with a flattering fulsomeness, but leaving the piano slightly in the shade. Actually, this might be a natural kind of balance; hi-res recordings, with the added clarity and depth that they bring, may have spoiled me. But don’t let any reservations on this score keep you from sampling what is certainly a very well-played, well-chosen program.
– Lee Passarella
