The shade of Sergei Bortkiewicz is in the debt of Bhagwan 
          Thadani, Raymond Oke and Malcolm Henbury-Ballan just as much as that 
          of Gustav Jenner is to Professor Horst Heussner (see the recent CPO 
          boxed set of the Jenner chamber music on CPO 999 699-2). I owe it to 
          Mr Thadani that the sound of these two works was not completely unfamiliar 
          to me. I enthusiastically reviewed 
          Mr Thadani's and Mr Oke's CD of the sequenced simulation of these 
          two symphonies back in 1999. That was a case of faute-de-mieux but even 
          so the dynamic and vivid qualities of this music shone through the ersatz 
          sound quality. 
        
 
        
Mr Thadani has recorded privately the complete surviving 
          piano music of Kharkov-born Bortkiewicz and many of the orchestral scores. 
          His and Raymond Oke's simulations using computer programmes and sampled 
          orchestral sounds have been the key to opening up these scores to today's 
          audiences. 
        
 
        
The First Symphony (From my homeland) 
          declares, through its title, a remembrance of his Russian homeland recalled 
          from the leafy chaussées of Vienna. The work is fluently Tchaikovskian 
          with much aching nostalgia, upheaval and flighty comedy. There are Glazunov-like 
          tumbling high spirits in the scherzo and in the Allegro Vivace finale. 
          The scherzo resonates with the pizzicato movement of Tchaikovsky's Fourth, 
          with his Rococo Variations and with the finale of the Third Suite. 
          Russian Orthodox chant broods gloweringly through the Adagio 
          which also takes time to include reminiscences of the nostalgic yearning 
          of the first movement. The finale synthesises a wonderfully aspiring 
          Slavonic theme, typically Borodin in its topography, and marries it 
          with the Miaskovskian minatory voices of the abruptly imperious opening 
          of the work. This movement triumphantly rings the changes in a metamorphic 
          tumult of Glazunov-like victory (symphonies 5 and 8), imperial splendour 
          (1812) and Tchaikovskian melodrama (symphony 4). 
        
 
        
The blindfold test might well place this symphony circa 
          1900 (if not earlier). On the evidence of the title you may expect music 
          which is relaxed and nostalgic but prepare yourself for drama too; especially 
          in the outer two of the four movements. This is most assuredly nostalgic 
          stuff but the edges are unsoftened, the drama is vivid and excitement 
          is built by a musician whose reverence for Tchaikovsky is clear. The 
          title may prepare you for the pictorialism of Raff or Rubinstein; the 
          music is quite other. 
        
 
        
Bortkiewicz proves himself the Tchaikovsky disciple 
          again in the Second Symphony. This is even more urgently impassioned, 
          sullen and angry than its predecessor. It is often exciting, drawing 
          on the wellsprings of Tchaikovsky (Symphonies 4-5 and Francesca) 
          without being a pallid facsimile. The andante sostenuto is akin 
          to the final movement of Tchaikovsky 6 and builds a lapel-gripping atmosphere. 
          The finale sustains the excitement but its angst reacts with the same 
          impulsive Borodin-like music as appears in the finale of No. 1. 
        
 
        
The silky sheen of the strings is pretty well put across 
          by the Scots; not that I cannot imagine it sounding even more sumptuously 
          radiant in the hands of say Ormandy and the Philadelphians or Mravinsky 
          and the Leningrad Phil had there been world enough and time in the 1960s. 
          The Scottish brass are gloriously hoarse and insistent. 
        
 
        
Brabbins handles this music very well indeed and surely 
          we can look for him to be at the helm when Hyperion record Bortkiewicz's 
          Piano Concertos 2 and 3, the meaty Tchaikovskian Cello Concerto and 
          the much lighter Violin Concerto (the latter a forgotten travelling 
          companion to the Glazunov). 
        
 
        
This disc has sprung onto the retailers' shelves with 
          astounding speed. The recordings were only made in February this year! 
        
 
        
For those who use mind-maps you can place this disc 
          as a further dactyl off the limbs that carry recordings of Borodin's 
          Second Symphony, Tchaikovsky's 4 and 5, Glazunov's 4, 5, 6 and 8, Kopylov 
          and Arensky (better than Arensky and quite as good as the neglected 
          Kopylov on ASV) and Rachmaninov 2 and 3. 
        
 
        
Documentation is what you would expect from this source: 
          encyclopaedic, well informed and laced with the adventurous spirit of 
          an investigative archivist. The author is Malcolm Henbury-Ballan, an 
          Indiana Jones of the world's music libraries. He it was who, by a chance 
          discovery, traced the scores to the Fleisher Collection in Philadelphia 
          where, more than half a century ago, Bortkiewicz had deposited the scores 
          and parts for safe-keeping. 
        
 
        
'I can't wait to hear this with a real orchestra.' 
          So I wrote in 1999. Now we have my wish and handsomely delivered too. 
          Roll on the later Bortkiewcz instalments ... for surely they 
          will come! 
          Rob Barnett  
        
          BACKGROUND 
          Mr Thadani at Cantext Publications, 19 Laval Drive, Winnipeg, Canada 
          R3T 2X3. e-mail: bthadani@hotmail.com. 
          should be able to provide you with copies of CDs of his realisations 
          of the three piano concertos, the cello concerto and the violin concerto. 
          You could also ask for his 1996 translation (from the German) of Bortkiewicz's 
          autobiography. 
          The Bortkiewicz Society can be contacted at: bortkiewiczsociety@hotmail.com