The resurgence of interest in the byways of Sergei 
                Prokofiev’s output on the fiftieth anniversary of his death has 
                been most welcome, whether the fruits be in the concert hall or 
                in the record shop. In 2001, Delos issued a three-disc ‘complete’ 
                edition of Prokofiev’s songs (DE3275 review), 
                which remains an invaluable, if somewhat artistically lumpy, document. 
                Orfeo, as part of their innovative ‘Edition zeitgenössiches 
                Lied’ series, provide the perfect partner to the Delos. 
              
 
              
Claudia Barainsky has a wide repertoire that 
                includes works by Nono, Reimann, Zemlinsky and Berg (this year 
                she adds Bernd Alois Zimmermann to the list, taking on Marie in 
                Die Soldaten in Amsterdam). Hardly surprising that she 
                feels at home here in Prokofiev, therefore. She also has the advantage 
                of the ever-sensitive Axel Bauni to back her up. Bauni’s insights 
                into the accompaniments are a consistent delight of this disc. 
              
 
              
A good idea to begin with the Op. 36 Bal’mont 
                settings, so that the Ugly Duckling comes cocooned within 
                the Prokofievian sound-world rather than slightly set-off. The 
                piano accompaniment to the first song is archetypal Prokofiev, 
                the harmonies characteristically peppered (for the spiky, playful 
                side of this composer, try the third song). The fifth song emerges 
                as the finest of the set, with its bleak harmonies and dream-like 
                vocal line. Barainsky and Bauni seem as one in their interpretation, 
                making for mesmerizing listening. 
              
 
              
The Songs without Words of 1915 are simply 
                beautiful, and it is difficult to imagine a more convincing performance 
                than here. Barainsky possesses a voice that can convey the disembodied, 
                floating aura of the first two songs to perfection, and Bauni 
                spins the accompanimental web of the third magically. But it is 
                the Akhmatova settings of Op. 27 (1916) that seem to me to represent 
                Prokofiev the song-writer at his finest. Bauni is superb in the 
                active piano part of the first; both performers realize the desolation 
                of the third and the bare, stark gestures of the fourth with great 
                impact. Only in the second setting could Barainsky’s vocal line, 
                perhaps, been even cleaner. The texts, which deal with a disintegrating 
                relationship, must surely touch the most granite of hearts. 
              
 
              
The beauty of the Op. 23 songs comes across strongly 
                here (the purity of Barainsky’s higher register is particularly 
                worthy of note), as do some of Prokofiev’s ‘quirks’ (try the ‘slip 
                and slidy’ piano part of No. 2). Apt, though, that this recital 
                closes with the Op. 73 Romances, written at the time of 
                the composer’s return to the Soviet Union after his sojourn in 
                Paris. Op. 73 formed part of the Pushkin celebrations (on the 
                centenary of the poet’s death). Although the shortest set on the 
                disc (and the only one to come in at less than ten minutes), this 
                brevity suits the concentration of expression. 
              
 
              
Barainsky and Bauni, in final analysis, do get 
                closer to the heart of Prokofiev than their Delos rivals. All 
                the more unfortunate, then, that there are no Russian texts, transliterated 
                or otherwise (translations are taken from Delos, Chandos and Hyperion). 
              
 
              
Colin Clarke