Mieczysław Weinberg (1919-1996)
Piano Quintet in F minor Op 18
Rhapsody on Moldavian Themes Op 47 No 2
Violin Concerto in G minor Op 67
Leonid Kogan (violin - Concerto)
David Oistrakh (violin - Rhapsody)
Mieczysław Weinberg (piano)
Borodin Quartet
Moscow Philharmonic Orchestra/Kirill Kondrashin
rec. Moscow 1954-1963
ALTO ALC1452 [75]
The Weinberg ‘effect’ ploughs forward
as it has done for the last two decades courtesy of friends in Germany
and the USA. The present disc usefully twins two of his works. These
are heard in Moscow-based Soviet-era Melodiya recordings, separated
by only fifteen years. Sandwiched in-between is an ethnic rhapsody typical
of the type then favoured in Russia. The composer’s musicianly
voice figures strongly, as do those of other prominent Russian musicians
of the years after the Second World War.
The very substantial, war years quintet is in five-movements. Its Moderato con moto opens in beguiling simplicity of utterance. The style is Shostakovich in his sweetest and most populist style in the manner of the Second Piano Concerto (1960). It is as if happier times are being recalled. Later the movement becomes thornier, thrawner and more complex. The following Allegretto is that of a subtle noctambulist - more of a manic nightmare than contentment. The third movement Presto is a breathless dream waltz teetering on the edge of being out of control. It veers from time to time into something eerily like a Dvorak humoresque. Then comes an impressive yet torturous Largo lasting almost thirteen minutes. It strikes statuesque but grim attitudes. Even so, some of the tenderness of the first movement is recalled, if through a glass darkly. The finale is a scourgingly fast Allegro agitato - very exciting but also fearful. So it ends but submissively quiet. The work was premiered by Emil Gilels in Moscow in 1944. A modern recording was included in an RCA BMG disc entitled “On the threshold of hope” but the present one has appeared before on Melodiya.
The ten-minute Moldavian Rhapsody for violin and piano was written in 1949. The composer’s mother had been born in Kishinyov, the capital of the one-time Moldavian Soviet Republic. Any resemblance to the Romanian music of Enescu may not be completely coincidental. Enescu was himself a Moldavian - albeit from the years when that part of the country was within Romania. This full-toned Tzigane-style music breathlessly fumes, furies and smokes. One is almost tempted to splutter and cough amid the pungent gypsy fires. It’s a shameless display piece, every bit the equal of Sarasate (Zigeunerweisen) and Saint-Saëns (Caprice Andalou). It’s safely in the brilliant hands of David Oistrakh and the composer.
We turn to the other violin titan of the Soviet world for the four-movement violin concerto: Kogan (1924-82). It’s a work where the devil drove … and took the hindmost. The first movement is a natural carryover from the Moldavian Rhapsody. Here, however, the nature of the virtuosity is more ruthless and reminiscent of Shostakovich’s First Violin Concerto. Indeed, the elder composer called it “a fabulous work”. A slightly more conspiratorial, and even amorous, tone is picked up in the little Allegretto but this eventually yields to become obsessively self-reflective. The following Adagio is genuinely tender and touching - a Soviet echo of Samuel Barber, I would say, but without any hint of saccharine. The finale is a determined little Allegro risoluto to bring this concise and brilliant 26-minute work to a close.
Some in the West were introduced to Weinberg - then known as Moisei Vainberg - by an HMV Melodiya LP (ASD2755) of the Fourth Symphony and of this version of the Violin Concerto. This was long before the Weinberg resurgence of the 2000s. They appeared in the same yoke on Olympia OCD622 in 1997.
The performances are exemplary and the analogue sound quality vivid and communicative. The Alto liner-notes are by Per Skans (1936-2007); grievously missed. They were edited last year to bring them up to date.
Rob Barnett
