Мусоргский Модест

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Artist: Shaliapin F. Label: Monolit

Фирма «Мелодия» представляет юбилейную лимитированную коллекцию записей оркестровых сочинений русских композиторов XIX и XX веков – первую часть «Антологии русской симфонической музыки». Глинка, Даргомыжский, Балакирев, Мусоргский, Бородин, Римский-Корсаков, Чайковский, Танеев, Лядов, Калинников, Аренский, Ляпунов, Метнер… Первый из трех масштабных комплектов «Антологии» включает в себя произведения русских композиторов в хронологическом порядке (55 дисков). В качестве «бонус-диска» предлагается запись фортепианных сочинений Николая Метнера в исполнении Евгения Светланова. В течение одного столетия музыкальное искусство России прошло колоссальную эволюцию, и благодаря «Антологии» слушатель получает возможность охватить этот яркий и стремительный путь. Большая часть записей была осуществлена Госоркестром СССР под управлением Евгения Светланова. В концертном сезоне 2016/2017 знаменитый оркестр, носящий имя Светланова, отмечает свой 80-летний юбилей. Евгений Светланов – дирижер, композитор, пианист, музыкант-подвижник – работал над созданием «Антологии» более 25 лет. Еще с ранней юности Светланов был одержим идеей вернуть из небытия малоизвестные, забытые страницы русской музыки; постепенно это стремление выросло в идею «Антологии». Работа над ней длилась около 30 лет, замысел дирижера – представить полную картину русского музыкального искусства полутора столетий от Глинки до Рахманинова – был блестяще реализован. Фирма «Мелодия» расширяет временные границы, заданные в «Антологии» Светланова. Осенью 2017 года ожидается выход второго комплекта «Антологии» с полным собранием оркестровой музыки Глазунова, сочинениями Рахманинова и Скрябина, 14 симфониями Мясковского, записями классиков советской музыки – Шостаковича, Прокофьева, Хачатуряна, а также избранными сочинениями отечественных композиторов ХХ столетия (Щедрина, Эшпая, Хренникова, Вайнберга, Глиэра, Ан. Александрова, Галынина, Компанейца, Р. Бойко), большинство из которых публикуются впервые. Первый бокс «Антологии» представляет собой кашированную коробку из твердого картона с крышкой. Издание содержит буклет в твердом переплете на четырех языках (русском, английском, французском, немецком) с иллюстрациями обложек оригинальных пластинок. “Like an oak grows out of  an acorn, the  entire Russian symphonic music sprang from Glinka’s ‘Kamarinskaya’,” wrote Pyotr Tchaikovsky. Mikhail Glinka, the  founder of  the Russian national composing school, loved orchestra from an early age and preferred symphonic music to any other (the future composer’s uncle lived not far away from his family estate of  Novospasskoye and owned a  serf orchestra). Glinka’s first attempts in orchestral music date back to the first half of the 1820s. They show that the young composer was already far from orchestrating popular songs and dances in the mould of “banal music” of the time. Instead, he was guided by the best examples of high classicism seeking to master the form of overture and symphony with the use of folklore song material. Those experiments, many of  which remained unfinished, were just training sketches to Glinka, but played an important role in shaping of his composing style. 32 33 eng eng In the overtures and ballet fragments from his operas A Life for the Tsar (1836) and Ruslan and Ludmila (1842), Glinka demonstrates his excellent orchestral writing skills. The overture to Ruslan and Ludmila is particularly characteristic in this regard: truly Mozartian dynamism and a “sunny” joyous tone (according to the composer, it “comes with a wet sail”) are combined with a most intense motive and subject development. As it was the case with the Oriental Dances from the fourth act, it became a bright concert number. However, Glinka only turned to genuine symphonic work during the last decade of his life. After a  long journey to  France and Spain, where he had a  chance to  acquaint in  detail with Berlioz’s works and inquire into the  matter of  Spanish folklore, Glinka collected plenty of  material for his creative work and, at  the same time, found endorsement of  his intuitive search for freedom of orchestral thinking. The composer returned to Russia with sketches of  two “Spanish overtures,” but Kamarinskaya (1848) subtitled “Fantasy on Two Russian Themes, a Wedding One and a Dance One” was his first complete piece. The idea of bringing together two opposite popular themes through their alternating variational development spilt over into a sort of orchestral scherzo is fairly considered a foundation of the Russian classical school. It was followed by  the Capriccio Brilliante on the  Jota Aragonesa and Souvenir d’une nuit d’été à Madrid, symphonic pieces which combine a vivid nature of dance elements with classical perfection of the form. In his last years, Glinka created a final orchestral version of WaltzFantasia (1856) transforming an artless piano piece into a lyrical poem for orchestra. Alexander Dargomyzhsky was a  younger contemporary and follower of Glinka in the matters of formation and development of Russian professional music culture. He met the author of A Life for the Tsar at a rehearsal. Having noted the young man’s outstanding musical capabilities, Glinka gave him his notebooks with music exercises he had worked on with German theorist Siegfried Dehn. Dargomyzhsky is primarily known as an opera and vocal composer. In the meantime, his orchestral works depict his composing individuality in their own way. In the late 1830s, he wrote the  symphonic piece Bolero and was the  first Russian composer to  address the  Spanish theme. However, Dargomyzhsky showed a true interest in the symphonic genre during his last years, not without influence of  his younger associates from the  Balakirev Circle. His Finnish Fantasia (1863–67), Baba Yaga, or from the Volga nach Riga (1862) and Fantasia on the Theme of the Ukrainian Kazachok (1864) are character genre sketches based on folklore material. Kazachok with its broad humour and rich Ukrainian flair enjoyed the widest popularity. The second half of the 19th century brought some cardinal changes to  the life and culture of  Russia. The  emerging professional music educational establishments, the  shaping of  regular concert life in  St.  Petersburg and Moscow (and later in  the other big cities of  the Russian Empire), the  return of  Russian operas to  theatre stages  – all that was a reason for a broad public interest in music art in general as it no longer was the  preserve of  the blue-blooded dilettantes. The  mid 1860s can be referred to as the birth of the Russian symphonic genre – the premieres of the first operas by Rimsky-Korsakov, Tchaikovsky and Borodin took place between 1865 and 1867. The  new conditions for the existence of music in Russia emerged in no small measure thanks to  the activities of  the enthusiasts and devotees. Mily Balakirev was among them. 34 35 eng eng The outstanding composer, pianist, conductor and educator, he was one of the rare examples of a self-taught person who achieved everything by  way of  patient labour and extensive self-education. After he came to Moscow in the early 1850s, he was introduced to Glinka who passed him the unused Spanish folk themes (they were a material for one of Balakirev’s first orchestra pieces Overture on the Themes of  Spanish March,  1857). The  Overture on the Themes of  Three Russian Songs he finished in  1858 continued the tradition of his great predecessor and received great critical acclaim. In the years to come, Balakirev continued to work on the genre of one-movement overture, wrote music for the first Russian production of Shakespeare’s King  Lear (1861) and at the same time was an active educational worker – he founded the Free School of Music where symphonic concerts were held on a regular basis and brought together a group of likeminded young composers (thanks to critic Vladimir Stasov’s good graces, their circle was named “a mighty handful,” but they eventually became better known in English as The Five) that comprised a whole constellation of  the prominent representatives of  Russian music art. The  piano piece Islamey (1869, arranged for orchestra by Sergei Lyapunov, one of Balakirev’s friends and pupils) was a culmination of the composer’s work in the 1860s. However, the generosity with which he gave away his ideas and concepts to younger fellow composers unwittingly took a toll on his own work – he was only able to realize his largest orchestral ideas – Symphony No. 1 and the symphonic poem Tamara – two decades later. After a  ten-year crisis, Balakirev resumed his versatile creative activities in the early 1880s and continued to do so until the last years of his life. Without undergoing any stylistic evolutions, Balakirev’s late compositions preserved the freshness of melodic inventiveness, their picturesque orchestral style and reverentially vivid sensation of folklore. One of the best 19th century pianists, composer, conductor and teacher Anton Rubinstein was also one of  the greatest contributors to  Russian music culture. Rubinstein spent his early years in Western Europe. On his return to Russia his music educational activities grew up to the scale that crucially changed the  position of  music art in  this country. Rubinstein initiated the  establishment of  the Russian Musical Society (RMS) with branches in Moscow and St. Petersburg with the intent to arrange concerts on a  regular basis. In 1862, the  first Russian conservatory was founded in  St.  Petersburg (Anton Rubinstein’s younger brother Nikolai opened the  Moscow Conservatory four years later). Not every piece from Anton Rubinstein’s vast heritage that comprises over 600 works in various genres has stood the  test of  time. His composing individuality is probably most strongly pronounced in his piano, chamber and orchestra miniatures. Eduard Nápravník was a  Czech who lived in  Russia most of  his life. He was the  principal conductor of  the Mariinsky Theatre for about fifty years between 1869 and 1916. There he conducted the premieres of operas by  Dargomyzhsky, Rubinstein, Serov, Borodin, Mussorgsky, RimskyKorsakov and Tchaikovsky and was always admired for his high professionalism and utmost care as he worked on music. The opera Dubrovsky (1894) based on Pushkin’s novel and written in  the tradition of  lyrical music theatre was Nápravník’s most popular work. “What a man and a talent he was!” spoke Rimsky-Korsakov about Alexander Borodin. A composer and chemical scientist in  one, he took up a  professorial chair at  the Imperial Medical-Surgical Academy in  St.  Petersburg for over twenty years and established the  first Russian medical courses for women. To his friends’ great regret, he only spent rare free hours on 36 37 eng eng music. Considering himself a “natural born lyricist and symphonist,” Borodin became a founder of the epic branch of Russian symphonic music. Borodin started to compose his Symphony No. 1 in the early 1860s when he was tutored by Mily Balakirev (by the time he had passed Ph.D. defense and was an author of a number of chamber instrumental works). The premiere of the symphony took place in 1869 with Balakirev behind the conductor’s stand was a  significant event not just for its author but also for The Five in general (Franz Liszt gave it a glowing account overseas). The Symphony No. 2, later nicknamed “Bogatyrskaya” (“Heroic”) was the highest achievement of Borodin as a symphonist. Working on it between 1869 and 1876 concurrently with the opera Prince Igor, Borodin realized epic characters of Russian folklore in the form of sonata-symphonic cycle (according to Vladimir Stasov, the first movement depicts an assembly of Russian epical heroes, the third one is a song of the Slavic minstrel Boyan, and the finale is a scene of great celebration with a feast and dances). The Polovtsian Dances with chorus, one of the climaxes of the opera frequently performed as a symphonic number, continue the line of the Oriental Dances from Glinka’s Ruslan and Ludmila. The  symphonic tableau In the Steppes of Central Asia (1880) composed for the cancelled festive performance to celebrate the silver anniversary of the reign of Alexander II of Russia was built on the idea of synthesis of a Russian melody and an oriental one. The Symphony No. 3 (1887) Borodin worked on during the last months of his life is peculiar for its lyrical colouring that was new to the composer. He did not put it down on paper, but Alexander Glazunov’s phenomenal memory preserved the music of the first two movements (Glazunov restored much of what Borodin did not finish; so, he actually composed the overture to Prince Igor on the basis of the material of the opera’s thematic invention). Glazunov also orchestrated the Petite Suite for piano (1885), one of Borodin’s last works. “Towards new shores of the still boundless art!” was Modest Mussorgsky’s artistic creed. Many years went by  before the  public acknowledged his truly pioneering aspirations. Convinced of the fact that “artistic truth does not tolerate preconceived forms,” Mussorgsky realized “life wherever it may be, the truth no matter how bitter it may be” which often frightened off even his friends musicians, including his tutor Mily Balakirev. Unlike his fellows from The  Five, Mussorgsky did not show interest in  the genres of  conventional instrumental music (symphony, overture and concerto). His orchestral Scherzo is a sort of a test of the young composer’s pen in  symphonic music written in  the period of  his intensive studies with Balakirev (1858); the humorous Intermezzo in modo classico dedicated to  Borodin who preferred classical forms was composed nine years later. Also in 1867, Mussorgsky finished his most peculiar orchestral piece – Night on Bald Mountain. Inspired by the final movement (Dream of  the Night of  the Sabbath) of  Berlioz’s Symphonie fantastique, it still amazes with its daring orchestral and harmonic solutions born in the composer’s inexhaustible imagination (Mussorgsky later on used it as a  finale of  the second act of  the opera The  Fair at  Sorochyntsi). The  triumphal march The Capture of Kars (1880) was composed for the same anniversary celebration as Borodin’s In the Steppes of Central Asia. Mussorgsky’s piano masterpiece Pictures at an Exhibition (1874) is still popular in its orchestral version created by Maurice Ravel. Mussorgsky’s unconventional timbre thinking was so  radical for his contemporaries that it caused an opinion of  his “unskillfulness” in orchestration for many decades to come. His operatic and orchestral works were performed, as  a rule, in  Rimsky-Korsakov’s more effective yet traditional versions up to the late 20th century. This is how they are featured in this set. 38 39 eng eng Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov went down in music history as Russia’s most prominent operatic composer (he wrote fifteen operas). There was hardly another composer among his contemporaries who was as masterful at the art of  orchestration, as  perceptive to  colours of  the instrumental groups and as knowledgeable about the nature and specifics of the sound of each instrument. Possessing the  so-called colour hearing by  nature, when the sound of every key is associated with a certain colour gamut, RimskyKorsakov did not separate “orchestration” from the process of composing; a musical image emerged in his mind as a complete set of timbres. When he started his in-depth study of  composition with Balakirev in the early 1860s, Rimsky-Korsakov immediately settled down to write his Symphony No. 1. The work was interrupted with a world cruise that RimskyKorsakov as a cadet of the Naval College had to complete to become an officer (the composer’s fantasy will be repeatedly inspired by  scenes of  seascape). The  symphony was performed by  Balakirev in  1865. Although not entirely unassisted stylistically, it was marked with bright national colours and demonstrated confident proficiency in symphonic form. His second symphony Antar (1868) after a tale by Osip Senkovsky became a big step in the artistic formation of the young composer. Renamed a “symphonic suite” later on, it captured Rimsky-Korsakov’s interest in literary and narrative programmes. In the same years, Rimsky-Korsakov was active in the genre of one-movement orchestral works (Tchaikovsky admired his Fantasia on Serbian Themes, but the  musical tableau Sadko became an even more outstanding example (both written in  1867), the  music of  which was included in  the opera of the same name). The Symphony No. 3 (1872–73) is in a league of its own. Rimsky-Korsakov wrote it during a transition period after he realized certain one-sidedness of his progress and started to independently grasp a new phase of composing craft. This explains the known “academic” dryness of the work. The culmination period of Rimsky-Korsakov’s symphonic oeuvre falls on the 1880s. Now having orchestral colours at his fingertips, he turned to  Russian, Oriental and European folklore, unveiling its most characteristic traits like Glinka did and creating genre, landscape and fantastic pictures using the  method of  “generalized” programme. Contrasting scenes and images come and go, but at  the discretion of  the composer they become consistent in  the listener’s perception. Rimsky-Korsakov highest symphonic accomplishments were Capriccio espagnol (1887) and the universally popular Scheherazade (1888), a symphonic suite based on One Thousand and One Nights, where the composer removed the original detailed programme not to limit the listener’s imagination – everyone is free to fancy which of the tales Scheherazade had to tell to soften the king’s hard heart. The role that the  orchestral component plays in  Rimsky-Korsakov’s operas can hardly be overestimated. The  composer used the  method of branched system of leitmotifs in his own way, but it is the orchestra that often makes his characters complete, creates a  landscape or emotional background for the action, and supplements the solo, ensemble and choral numbers with subtle characteristic details. A series of overtures, entr’actes and symphonic fragments are frequently performed at concerts (the overture to The Tsar’s Bride, The Blue Ocean Sea from Sadko, Procession of Tsar Berendei and Dance of  the Skomorokhs from The  Snow Maiden, Procession of the Nobles from Mlada, Flight of the Bumblebee and Three Wonders from The  Tale of  Tsar Saltan, The  Battle at  Kerzhents from The  Legend of  the Invisible City of Kitezh, and many others). As a rule, the composer compiled the  suites for concert performances from fragments of  his operas (with the exception of the suite from The Golden Cockerel which was completed by his pupil Maximilian Steinberg). 40 41 eng eng “With all my heart I would hope that my music may spread far so that there are more who love it and find consolation and encouragement in it,” wrote Pyotr Tchaikovsky at the end of his life. The principles of symphonic and theatrical dramatics are so  closely intertwined in  his music that some of  the pages from his symphonies and overtures conjure up bright and vital images – everyday life and genre scenes, as well as landscapes create complete emotional portraits of the characters. Tchaikovsky’s operas and ballets, on the contrary, often develop by the laws of symphonic dramaturgy. Tchaikovsky, one of the greatest symphonists of the 20th century, significantly contributed to  the development of  actually all orchestral genres of his time, paying an equal debt to both programme and “purely” instrumental music. He consciously followed the conventional, classically romantic line of symphonism, on which he built a personal model of lyrical and dramatic symphony. The Characteristic Dances, the first orchestral piece written by 25-year-old Tchaikovsky, then a student of the St. Petersburg Conservatory with Anton Rubinstein, was performed at one of Johann Strauss II’s summer concerts at Pavlovsk (unfortunately, the sheet music was lost). When a student, he also wrote The Storm (1864), and overture inspired by Alexander Ostrovsky’s play of the same name. Having a freelance diploma, the composer was invited to  teach at  the just founded Moscow Conservatory. The  beginning of  the Moscow period in his life and career was marked with the Symphony No. 1, Winter Daydreams (1866–68) that essentially revealed the  composer’s creative capabilities. The landscapes and genre tableaux typical of Russian perception of  the winter season (from the  troika tearing along a  winter road in the first movement to the Pancake Week revelry in the finale) are depicted in bright emotional colours here. In 1869 (finally edited in 1880), Tchaikovsky wrote the overture-fantasy Romeo and Juliet where he managed to  render the  major driving forces of  Shakespeare’s tragedy  – love and feud. In the  first half of  the 1870s, the  composer continued his creative pursuit both in the conventional symphonic form (Symphony No. 2 (1872) based on Russian and Ukrainian folklore, a sort of an artistic dialogue with the members of Balakirev’s circle; Symphony No. 3 of five movements (1875) inclined to  the principle of  suite, closer to  the West European model of  the “Leipzig” school), and in  one-movement programme genres, the symphonic fantasias The Tempest (1873) and Francesca da Rimini (1876). The Symphony  No. 4 (1877), along with the  opera Eugene Onegin, became a  climax of  the Moscow period. It was dedicated to  his “best friend” (the composer meant his patroness Nadezhda von Meck whose help enabled him to entirely give himself up to composing). In a letter to her, he described the hidden programme of the symphony in detail that was based on tragic doom of a human person in front of Fatum. In the first half of the 1880s, Tchaikovsky intensely worked on the genre of  orchestral suite. In the  same period he wrote the Serenade for String Orchestra (1880), a peculiar example of “neoclassicism” in Tchaikovsky’s oeuvre. The  tradition of  Glinka’s symphonic pieces was continued with the Capriccio italien (1880). The Year 1812 (1880) was written for the consecration of the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour. The idea of the symphony Manfred (1885) based on Lord Byron’s poem was prompted by Balakirev. It became a  culmination of  the programme branch of  the composer’s symphony music (in 1890–91, he wrote The Voyevoda, a symphonic ballad based on Alexander Pushkin’s translation of Adam Mickiewicz’s poem of  the same name; the  composer destroyed it, but it was reconstructed by Taneyev after Tchaikovsky’s death). The Symphony No. 5 (1888) was a new reading of the “Man and Fatum” subject  – the  image that appears as  a funeral march in  the beginning 42 43 eng eng of  the symphony invades the  subsequent movements and produces an impression of  fatal interference; however, its triumphal and solemn sounds in the final movement make a dual impression and imply different interpretations. The  concept of  the programme symphony Life, which, according to Tchaikovsky, was supposed to complete his career, remained unrealized. The  Symphony No. 6, Pathétique (1893) was one of  the composer’s last works. Tchaikovsky thought it was close to  the genre of requiem. The theme of the unannounced programme was “Man in the face of Death.” The unusual structure of the symphony with a slow finale filled with deep sorrow in the conclusion left the audience perplexed at the premiere that took place ten days before the composer’s death. Many years passed before the Pathétique Symphony was judged on its merits as  one of the summits of world symphony music. “I completely fail to  understand what you call ballet music and why you won’t accept it. I totally fail to understand how the expression “ballet music” can be something disapproving.” These lines from Tchaikovsky’s letter to  Sergei Taneyev, who reproached the  former for excessive ballet-ism of his Fourth Symphony, demonstrate Tchaikovsky’s attitude to this form of  art. He decisively rejected the  notion of  a secondary, “service” role of music in ballets that was a common place belief both among ballet lovers and serious musicians who thought it was only intended for convenience of dancing and “pleasant entertainment” of the audience. Tchaikovsky confirmed the  correctness of  his words with three brilliant ballets. They have been permanent features on the  world’s stages for more than a  hundred years now, inspiring different, at  times opposite choreographic interpretations. But there is one thing that remains unchanged – Tchaikovsky’s music, “ballet-ready” through and through, filled with dance element and at the same time truly symphonic. In terms of musical dramatics and depth of characters, it outclassed not just ordinary “authors of ballet music,” but also truly talented ballet composers of his time. The destiny of  the ballet Swan Lake was complicated. Tchaikovsky worked on his “ballet debut” with ardour and seriousness, but its premiere in 1877 did not enthuse the audience. It only won the recognition after the composer’s death. “This is not only about slapping up some ballet music; I have the impudence to  conceive a  ballet masterpiece,” Tchaikovsky wrote about his second ballet. The  music of  The Sleeping Beauty (1889) was composed in close collaboration with the great choreographer Marius Petipa. Such an approach ensured an ideal blend of the music and choreographic components. That was confirmed by its triumphal premiere at the Mariinsky Theatre. In the early 1890s, Tchaikovsky received a commission from the directorate of the Imperial Theatres to compose a one-act opera and a one-act ballet that would be presented on the same evening. While Tchaikovsky decided on the plot of the opera (it was Iolanta) quite quickly, the script of The Nutcracker raised a strong doubt at first. The music of the ballet was finished in 1892. The suite compiled from its numbers was a raving success, but the ballet itself shown at the Mariinsky Theatre in December that year (choreography by Petipa) was met with mixed reviews. The Nutcracker, as a multidimensional music and choreographic drama, was only discovered in the 20th century. “The period of  “Sturm und Drang” in  Russian music has changed into a  calm forward movement,” as  Rimsky-Korsakov described the  composers of  the next generation who emerged during the  last two decades 44 45 eng eng of the 19th century. Two independent composing schools had taken shape in St. Petersburg and Moscow (the former was led by Rimsky-Korsakov who was the  most authoritative composition teacher, while the  latter was best represented by  Tchaikovsky and Taneyev). However, no signs of  rivalry or competition between the  two schools of  any kind were observed. Quite the contrary, the cases of “creative exchange” were not that rare, when a young composer who graduated from the St. Petersburg Conservatory moved to Moscow and vice versa. The Belyayev Circle initiated by Mitrofan Belyayev, a patron of arts, ardent lover of music and music publisher, took the stand of The Five. However, the Belyayev Circle lacked any “ideology” and consisted of  musicians with very different artistic aspirations. Following the era of discoveries and intense exploration (at times in  opposite directions), there came a  time for Russian music to  accumulate and synthesize the  wealth and experience of  the past generations. Their successors had a  propensity for objective and holistic perception of  the world rather than direct confrontation. That was one of  the reasons for their heightened interest in  the symphonic and concerto genres. “A great Russian musician whose work commands deep respect,” described musicologist Boris Asafiev the  creative personality of  Sergei Taneyev. An outstanding pianist, composer, music theorist and teacher, a  pupil of Nikolai Rubinstein and Tchaikovsky, he became a successor of the latter as a professor of the Moscow Conservatory (he had Sergei Rachmaninoff, Alexander Scriabin, Sergei Lyapunov, Reinhold  Glière, Alexander Grechaninov, Boleslav Yavorsky and many others among the  students in his counterpoint and fugue class) and later was elected its director. He was named “musical conscience of Moscow.” According to Rachmaninoff, Taneyev’s friends and students thought of him as a “supreme judge who possessed wisdom, justice, accessibility and simplicity as such,” as a “living picture of the truth on Earth once denied by Pushkin’s Salieri.” Taneyev’s keen interest in  polyphony, including renaissance music of “strict style,” was not only reflected in his teaching activities and works on music theory (“Convertible Counterpoint in the Strict Style,” “Doctrine of Canon”), but also has a certain impact on his composing style. Taneyev was so hard on himself as he never was on anyone else – he allowed publishing of less than a half of his creative legacy during his lifetime. So, his Symphony in C minor (1898, actually it was his fourth) remains the only work in the genre that he saw fit for performance and publishing. As a student of Spinoza’s philosophy, Taneyev thought that the symphonic genre was a foundation of music arts that did not imply anything accidental. A symphony develops in accordance with Beethoven’s model “from dark to  light,” its inner dramatic conflict is pointedly objective (this is what makes it crucially different from Tchaikovsky’s symphonic dramaturgy); a triumphal apotheosis in the coda of the final movement is perceived as a natural and logical outcome. Taneyev’s firm belief in original harmony of the universe is apparent in his only opera Oresteia (1882– 94) based on Aeschylus’s tragedies. There, Apollo, as  a positive force, defeats forces of chaos and destruction (the entr’acte Interior of Apollo’s Temple at Delphi is built on Apollo’s theme). “My ideal is to find unearthly things in art. Art is a kingdom of something that doesn’t exist…” This aphorism gives a  key to  understanding of  the work of Anatoly Lyadov, one of the most original personalities of Russian music at  the turn of  the 20th century, unfortunately, underestimated by his contemporaries and posterity. 46 47 eng eng A son of  a Mariinsky Theatre conductor, Lyadov graduated from the St. Petersburg Conservatory where he studied with Rimsky-Korsakov and was invited to  teach theoretical disciplines. He only taught instrumentation and composition during the  last years of  his life (Sergei Prokofiev, Nikolai Myaskovsky, Yuri Shaporin, Mikhail Gnessin and Boris Asafiev were his students). Many of his colleagues and pupils took Lyadov for a modest miniaturist and author of fairy tales, a representative of the Korsakov School who was loyal to his teacher’s precepts. Only deep insight into his works allows us to see a composer who captured the aesthetic essence of a different time – art nouveau and the Silver Age – with extraordinary accuracy. Lyadov’s disposition to  miniature forms and filigree finish of  every detail (“…to do so  that every measure pleases”), as  well as  his inclination to folklore matched the common trend of Russian artistic life of the time  – initiation of  “pseudo-Russian” style in  architecture, flourishing of  the “ornamental” tendency in  painting and design, increased attention to exterior finish in very different aspects – from residential interiors to books and printed music (the sheet music of Russian composers published by Belyayev are good examples). The possibility of accurate recording of  musical folklore by  means of  phonograph was at  the same time a  precursor of  its extinction  – now the  artists seek to  portray through the  state of  nature something that their posterity might never be able to hear in living sound. The Eight Russian Folk Songs for orchestra (1906) can be compared to the work of a jeweller who wants to level down his cutting skills and present a precious gem in the most “natural” possible framing. The orchestral sound of the Songs presents the treasure of folk art as it is, as if it illustrates another of Lyadov’s statements – “Art is an objective not a means.” Another tendency of  art nouveau can be traced in  Lyadov’s orchestral pieces  – a  broadly understood cult of  perfect beauty, art as  such. In Lyadov’s strive to depict “a fairy tale, a dragon, a mermaid, a wood goblin,” escaping “ from realism … as  all things human,” Rimsky-Korsakov’s “heir” directly contradicts his teacher’s aesthetic creed (“The tale’s a lie, but it’s got a hint…”). Lyadov had good reason to appreciate his “fairy tale tableau” The Enchanted Lake (1908) – “How picturesque and pure it is, with stars, and mysterious deep inside. And the  main thing  – with no people… just dead nature, cold, evil but fabulous…” Some might not hear anything but “static figuration,” but this music demands ultimate internal scrutinization coming close to  the unattainable, that is devoid of  “everything human” beauty of the Absolute. “Arensky is amazingly smart in  music… This is a  very interesting personality,” wrote Tchaikovsky about Anton Arensky. The life and work of this highly talented musician directly confirms the  fact that common trends of  Russian music at  the turn of  the century meant much more than the differences between the St. Petersburg and Moscow schools. A graduate of the St. Petersburg Conservatory and one of Rimsky-Korsakov’s students, Arensky was invited to teach free composition at the Moscow Conservatory (Sergei Rachmaninoff, Nikolai Medtner, Reinhold  Glière and many others were his students). His acquaintance with Tchaikovsky had a huge impact on Arensky’s life – he preserved his deep admiration for the personality and work of his senior colleague. Tchaikovsky himself highly appreciated the young composer’s talent and fostered the  spread of  his music. Tchaikovsky’s opinion about Arensky was shared by Taneyev. Leo Tolstoy was a devotee of his music too. In the end of his life, Arensky returned to St. Petersburg to succeed to Balakirev as the director of the Imperial Choir. 48 49 eng eng Performing as  a pianist, ensemble player, choral and symphonic conductor, Arensky showed his worth in  various genres, but piano and symphonic music constituted the most valuable part of his creative legacy. Tchaikovsky’s unconditional influence which was apparent in lyrical expressiveness and a songful nature of melodism in his works were unwittingly combined with deep acquisition of the Rimsky-Korsakov school (specifics of  his orchestration, inclination to  folk song intonations). On this account his Variations on Themes of Ryabinin for piano and orchestra (1899) are particularly interesting (Trofim Ryabinin was a famous Russian narrator whose folk tales were a source of inspiration for many Russian composers). Here, the composer depicts epic characters and images through a  concerto-variation form. Arensky’s two symphonies composed in the 1880s (B minor, 1883, and A major, 1889; a year earlier he wrote the opera Dream on the  Volga that delighted Tchaikovsky) are engaging thanks to  their sincere emotional warmth and lyrical heartiness. The composer’s later orchestral suites and music for the ballet Egyptian Nights (1890) are interesting for their genre distinctness and perfect external finish. “Music… is in fact a language of moods, that is the states of our mind that cannot be expressed in words and do not lend themselves to definite description,” Vasily Kalinnikov believed. The life of this outstanding composer was short and dramatic. He had to fight progressive tuberculosis for nearly ten years fated for his composing career. A native of Oryol and educated at the seminary, young Kalinnikov came to Moscow to enter the preparatory division of the conservatory, but was unable to continue his education because of the lack of money – he spent the  subsequent years of  his life perpetually in  want on the brink of poverty. Kalinnikov finished the music and drama college of  the Moscow Philharmonic Society where he studied bassoon and composition, turned a  penny playing in  orchestras, conducting and rewriting sheet music. His first orchestral works were performed when he was a student – the symphonic picture Nymphs, Scherzo and Serenade for string orchestra. After he finished the college, the young musician was a conductor at the Moscow Italian Theatre, but his acute condition made him move to  the Crimea. The  last years of  his life were the most productive. He wrote two symphonies (No. 1 in G minor was first performed in  1895, in  Kiev and enjoyed wide popularity in  Russian in  his lifetime), the  symphonic picture The  Cedar and the  Palm (1898), two orchestral intermezzos and incidental music to  Aleksey Tolstoy’s drama Tsar Boris (1899) commissioned by  the Maly Theatre. The patron of arts Savva Morozov also commissioned Kalinnikov to write the opera In 1812, but the dying composer only had time for the prologue. “Sit up and take notice of  Kalinnikov’s music. As you listen to  these sounds filled with poetry, where do you see a  sign of  their birth in  … the  mind of  a dying man? … It’s healthy music from beginning to  end, sincere music, living one…” wrote Semyon Kruglikov, a  friend of  the composer’s and critic. Borodin’s epic might combined in a remarkable manner with Tchaikovsky’s anxious emotionality transforms into a deeply individual style which was compared by Asafiev to Koltsov’s poetry. The associations with Turgenev’s lyrical landscapes, Bunin’s prose, Yesenin’s verses or Levitan’s landscapes are as natural. It seems like the  soul of  Russia itself sings in  these “almost unspeakable” sounds. It is difficult to believe that music as lighthearted and spiritual as this was penned by a tormented man. 50 51 eng eng Sergei Lyapunov was born in  Yaroslavl and spent his childhood years in Nizhny Novgorod, a home city of Balakirev. On the recommendation of Nikolai Rubinstein he entered the Moscow Conservatory, studied there with Taneyev and graduated from it with honours. However, it was his incidental acquaintance with Balakirev that determined his further life – the young musician moved to St. Petersburg where he became a close friend and associate of his mentor. Together with Balakirev he edited the  complete collection of  Glinka’s works. As a member of the Russian Geographic Society, Lyapunov took part in the expeditions to Russian North to collect folk songs. Their reliance on Glinka’s traditions, lively interest in folklore and outstanding pianistic and conducting talents drew the composers of two different generations together. Balakirev’s style had tangible influence on Lyapunov’s symphonic and piano works. Lyapunov finished Balakirev’s Second Piano Concerto and Suite in  B minor for orchestra that remained incomplete after Balakirev’s death and also made a  brilliant orchestral transcription of  Islamey. Lyapunov’s concept of the symphonic poem Żelazowa Wola (1909), named after the place of  Frédéric Chopin’s birth and where the  Polish genius was memorialized through Balakirev’s efforts, was also linked with his senior friend. Two symphonies are distinctive landmarks in Lyapunov’s legacy. The First Symphony in  B minor (1885–87) continued the  traditions of  the Balakirev Circle and signified the  beginning of  creative maturity, while the  Second Symphony in B flat minor (1910–17, performed for the first time in 1950) concluded the composer’s career. The Solemn Overture on Russian Themes (1896) was an artistic response to the last Russian emperor’s accession to the throne and received a high appraisal from Balakirev. In the period of the composer’s work on his monumental Second Symphony, he also wrote the  symphonic poem Hashish (1913) based on Arseny Golenishchev-Kutuzov’s poem which continued the traditions of “Russian musical Orient.” The music of Nikolai Medtner may not seem to belong in the Anthology of Russian Symphonic Music. As a matter of fact, the composer only used orchestra in his piano concertos and was mostly focused on solo piano music and chamber genres. However, Medtner’s music played a  very special role in  Evgeny Svetlanov’s life and career accompanying him from literally the first steps of his professional activities. Maria Gurvich, an associate professor at the Gnessins Music Teachers Institute (now the Russian Music Academy) and Svetlanov’s piano teacher, was one Medtner’s best piano students. In defiance of time, she always gave his students compositions by the émigré composer and arranged recitals of Medtner’s music. As Nina Moznaim-Svetlanova remembers, “Svetlanov’s performance at the Medtner evenings was extraordinary. Even then, in the early years, it had his personal special traits. Those concerts were known for their integrity, duration of music phrases, clarity of sound and his unique manner of performing the high points.” Later on, Svetlanov, already a celebrated conductor, performed and recorded all Medtner’s chamber ensembles and a  number of  his solo pieces that are featured in  this set. He also initiated a  gala concert in  Moscow on the  occasion of  the 100th anniversary of  the great Russian composer, pianist and educator. Svetlanov, a conductor, pianist and composer, who realized himself as  a successor to  the traditions of Russian classical music, also felt the continuity of Medtner’s music, its synthesis of  lyrical and intellectual components. Working on this Anthology, we thought it only fitting to have this name among the other composers featured in the largest project in the world history of sound recording. Boris Mukosey

Главная особенность этого диска - полностью учтенная оперная дискография выдающегося певца, без каких бы то ни было лакун (за исключением некоторых вариантов одних и тех же произведений на грампластинках, которым мы предпочли фондовые оригиналы). Самое интересное - это те записи, которые еще ни разу не издавались или не переиздавались с довоенных лет. К ним относится, в первую очередь, ария Руслана (с кабалеттой). Думаю, что наряду с записью М.О. Рейзена того же 1938 года, исполнение Батурина по праву может считаться лучшим. Кроме того, впервые мы имеем возможность услышать стансы Нилаканты, причем в двух вариантах (довоенном и послевоенном). Батурин был, вероятно, единственным советским певцом, записавшим арию Мефистофеля Бойто со свистом еще до войны. Есть в альбоме и несколько живых записей. Впервые издана сцена в келье Чудова монастыря - вероятно, самая поздняя (и даже последняя) запись Батурина. В конце диска мы поместили две концертные записи Батурина - серенаду и куплеты Мефистофеля (Гуно). Это единственная возможность услышать Батурина на концерте (посвященном юбилею пианиста С.К. Стучевского). Серенада Мефистофеля записана только на этом концерте. Таким образом, теперь в нашем распоряжении имеются абсолютно все фондовые оперные записи Батурина, а также все лучшие грамзаписи. М. В. Никифоров, составитель альбома