I first came across Vladimir Genin with a disc titled
In
C Est. Anything with the phrase “In C” is always
of interest to me, as it means the sharps and flats will always helpfully
appear as you go along rather than having to memorise them in a key
signature. Such are the sad limits of my piano playing. Incredible feats
such as those demonstrated here by Olga Domnina will alas always remain
beyond me, but I appreciate them all the more as a result.
Andrei Navrozov’s somewhat inscrutable booklet notes are not hugely
helpful in introducing
Seven Melodies for the Dial, but the connection
with a sonnet by Shakespeare and the essentially Russian nature of the
music is outlined. I’m not always a guaranteed fan of large-scale
piano works, but this is powerful stuff. There are movements which have
something of the nervy grit of Prokofiev, such as in the tough waltz
of the opening movement
Vacant Leaves. There is perhaps some
of the aromatic, enigmatic atmosphere of Scriabin in the second movement,
Thy Beauties Wear, and after a sparse opening, the third movement
What Memory Cannot drives over us with a heavy mechanistic steam-roller
before entertaining more lyrical realms.
References to other composers are brought in here as a subjective reference
point. You will perhaps hear other associations in this music, but while
it builds on strong traditions this work is by no means derivative.
We can’t escape the occasional whiff of Messiaen, but neither
can we brush aside the uncompromising artistic voice of a master creator.
Wrinkles in the Glass is the central fourth movement. This is
a constructivist edifice, but with planes and angles through which you
always sense the shining of a bright light and a barely visible but
stunningly beautiful core of reflective movement. You might expect
Of
Mouthed Graves to explore the lower registers of the instrument,
but you might not have expected the violent drivingly rhythmic ostinato
mechanics of the music.
Time’s Thievish Progress is the
apotheosis of the work, a stunningly timeless and movingly elegiac droplet
in a pool of eternity. Genin refuses to linger too long in daydream
visions however, and the music builds to a mighty climax, resting back
onto a section which has a hint of Shostakovich in its harmonies. The
final
Blanks begins with a different sense of time - open, as
a kind of homecoming, but into a place of restlessness which you know
is going to grow into something dark and moody…
The piano recording for this release is very good indeed, though I found
myself wondering how much of the perspective was real or the results
of post-production. The instrument seems both distant and close at the
same time.
I swear I can hear a little mouse squeaking in the
loudest bits in
Of Mouthed Graves, an artifact of one extreme
of another.
At first I thought it must be some striking dramatic statement on time
and mortality, but it would appear that the replacement of the timings
of the individual movements in the booklet with sharp signs is accidental
- no pun intended, the cool kids now call these hash tags.
Olga Domnina is the dedicatee of
Seven Melodies for the Dial,
and it almost goes without saying that her performance is stunning.
She not only tackles the music’s technical demands with apparent
ease, but also infuses every moment with emphatic and unpretentious
expressiveness - no matter how sparse or dense the texture, how soft
or tumultuous the mood. Time will tell how far this ambitious cycle
will be allowed to climb the subjective greasy pole of classic status,
but in my opinion it can easily stand alongside something like George
Flynn’s
Trinity,
and is a good deal more approachable besides. There has been a certain
amount of discussion around another massive piano work of late, Frederic
Rzewski’s
The People United Will Never Be Defeated! (see
one recent
review).
While the origins and content of this compared with
Seven Melodies
for the Dial are entirely different I would argue that the weight
of their respective expressive messages are somewhere similar on the
page of powerful piano pieces. Put them together on your shelf and see
how well East can get along with West these days …
Dominy Clements
