Russian
music owes much to the efforts of Mily Balakirev, who helped
bring about the nationalist ‘school’ of composers known as ‘The
Five’. This and his career as pianist, conductor and teacher
meant his creative output was rather limited, some works
left unfinished or completed by other hands. This is a noticeable
trend among ‘The Five’, Borodin and Mussorgsky in particular,
but in Balakirev’s case he also seemed to lose interest in
his compositions. Indeed, the second concerto, begun in 1862,
took no less than forty years to complete; even then fellow
composer Sergei Lyapunov had to orchestrate the last movement.
A
quick Google confirms that the oriental fantasy
Islamey is
far and away the most popular of Balakirev’s piano works – there
are around 50 recordings in the catalogue – while the concertos
hardly figure at all. That said, the Sinaisky/BBC Phil set
of Balakirev from Chandos – also available as an MP3 or lossless
download – is well worth acquiring, not least for the pianistic
skills of Howard Shelley in the first concerto (
CHAN
241-29).
The
Ukrainian-born pianist Anastasia Seifetdinova may not be
in the same league but she certainly makes the most of the
18-year-old Balakirev’s Op. 1, which opens with an atmospheric
drum-roll. As David Truslove points out in his liner-notes
this concerto – in traditional sonata form – is a work of
assimilation. That certainly sounds to be the case, although
there are expressive passages that prefigure the melodic
richness of Tchaikovsky’s B flat minor concerto, completed
in 1875.
The
Russian Philharmonic Orchestra, inclined to roughness in
tuttis, are nevertheless decently recorded. As for Seifetdinova’s
piano sound – and technique – it’s much beefier than Shelley’s.
The downside is that her performance lacks a degree of subtlety.
Yablonsky, the mainstay of Naxos’s Russian catalogue, isn’t
blameless either. He paces the music well enough, but he
doesn’t come close to the easy, free-flowing Romanticism
that makes Sinaisky’s reading so much more rewarding to listen
to. The BBC Philharmonic string and woodwind players also
bring a mixture of character and finesse to the score, qualities
their Russian counterparts can’t quite muster. Simply put,
the Chandos recording belies the slightness of this concerto,
while the Naxos merely confirms it.
Arguably
the second concerto is the more individual of the two; it’s
clearly on a more ambitious scale, but its extended gestation
may have something to do with the work’s general lack of
cohesion and focus. The opening of the first movement promises
much, as does the soloist’s rhapsodic first entry, and despite
a rather rude orchestral riposte at 1:35 this performance
does at least sound spontaneous. That said, the dancing rhythms
at 4:16 are a touch unwieldy and the brass have that typical
Russian edge that certainly adds a dash of local colour to
the musical mix. Then at 7:44 there’s that curious mock serious
passage for the soloist – a touch of wry humour, surely – followed
by a brief section at 8:10 that sounds remarkably like Shostakovich.
After
the Allegro’s scintillating close the Adagio gets off to
a poor start with some of the worst intonation I’ve heard
in a long time; forgivable in a live performance – just – but
surely a retake would have been possible here? Actually this
is a good metaphor for the performance as a whole; it’s undoubtedly
invigorating at times but really the playing leaves much
to be desired. At least Seifetdinova throws herself into
the music to thrilling effect, especially in those grand
scalar passages. If only the orchestra were less bloated
and the playing less wayward this would be a much better
performance than it is.
Apparently
Balakirev did most of the work for the final movement, so
at least it’s an ‘almost is’ rather than a ‘never was’. There
is a leanness to the orchestration and a touch more focus
to the piano part, so this Allegro risoluto sounds very different
from the first two movements, not least in its greater rhythmic
vitality and its striking harmonies. Yablonsky and his band
are every bit as gruff as before, though, and I found myself
longing for a little more refinement, even in those big,
brazen tunes. Admittedly, some listeners may prefer this
approach, claiming it’s more authentically Russian, but I
strongly suspect there’s more to this concerto than we are
allowed to hear.
The
Grande
Fantaisie (also recorded on Toccata Classics
- see
review) was written when the self-taught composer
was just 15, so
one might
be
tempted
to write
it off
as a piece of juvenilia. Don’t. The powerful orchestral
opening and the piano’s first, rambling entry are certainly
arresting, and even if the orchestration is a touch foursquare
this is still a lively, purposeful piece that actually
benefits from this team’s larger-than-life approach to
the score. In the mellifluous and extended piano passages
Seifetdinova impresses too; at last, this disc lives
up to some of its initial promise. How assured this work
is for someone so young, and how it demands to be played
again and again. A rough diamond, but a diamond nonetheless.
I
so wanted to be more positive about the concertos but there
are just too many caveats to merit a recommendation. That
said, I’d buy this disc just for the
Grande Fantaisie, even
if, like so much of Balakirev’s output, it was never completed.
So, one cheer – a rousing one – rather than three.
Dan
Morgan
Anastasia
Seifetdinova (piano) 
