Liapunov studied composition 
                with Tchaikovsky, Tanayev and most significantly 
                with Balakirev whose Oriental piano 
                fantasy Islamey he orchestrated 
                most effectively. After the Revolution, 
                which occurred in the year of the writing 
                of this his last Symphony, he left Russia 
                for good. He died in Paris of a heart-attack 
                suffered while travelling to a concert 
                at which he was to have performed. 
              
 
              
There are two Liapunov 
                symphonies both on a large scale. The 
                first, also in B minor, is his Op. 12. 
                It is from 1887, three decades before 
                the Second. The composer was then 28 
                having graduated four years previously 
                and made a place for himself in the 
                artistic life of St Petersburg. The 
                work is eclectic, at times recalling 
                Rimsky-Korsakov with infusions from 
                Borodin and Tchaikovsky. Liapunov bridges 
                a style gulf in a way that no other 
                Russian does. Tchaikovskians had little 
                to do with the Kouchka and vice versa. 
                Liapunov moves with natural ease from 
                one camp to the other. 
              
 
              
The Second Symphony’s 
                epic scale and mood places it with few 
                other works of that nodal and turbulent 
                year, 1917. Perhaps the closest contemporary 
                might be Josef Suk’s Ripening although 
                the Liapunov has more drama and tragedy 
                than in Suk’s reflective meditation. 
                For a closer mood parallel we can reach 
                for Miaskovsky’s Symphonies 4 and 5 
                - especially the Fifth from 1918. Beyond 
                that we can look to much earlier symphonies: 
                the Renaissance Symphony by Karlowicz 
                (recently released on Chandos), Paderewski’s 
                Symphony (on both Dux and Hyperion), 
                Rachmaninov’s Second and Tchaikovsky’s 
                Fifth. 
              
 
              
The Second Symphony 
                was not premiered until 1950 when it 
                was played by the Leningrad Philharmonic 
                Orchestra directed by Svetlanov. He 
                is therefore the closest thing we get 
                to a performing tradition for the work. 
                He certainly stamps his identity on 
                the French radio orchestra in this live 
                radio concert. Even the timbre of the 
                orchestra is toned and sculpted to bring 
                back the glory days of the USSR Symphony 
                Orchestra. While the strings lack that 
                intense Soviet glare the brass bray 
                with satisfyingly raw passion and the 
                woodwind have a piercing and poignant 
                quality. 
              
 
              
Liapunov’s Second is 
                in four substantial movements of often 
                super-heated emotionality. The first 
                starts in shade with writing recalling 
                Liszt's Faust Symphony. It reminisces 
                around Rimsky, Tchaikovsky (especially 
                Manfred), Scriabin (Symphony 
                No. 1) and, most strikingly, Miaskovsky. 
                An aspiring galloping figure, that is 
                to reappear in all the succeeding movements, 
                is the very archetype of the Miaskovsky 
                theme and manner. At 7.30 the music 
                certainly recalls Miaskovsky’s Symphony 
                No. 5 (outstandingly recorded by the 
                USSR Symphony Orchestra conducted by 
                Konstantin Ivanov on a deleted Olympia 
                OCD133). The movement is brought to 
                a close with some smashing chordal impacts. 
                After a Tchaikovskian scherzo the adagio 
                (III) is all Rimskian luxury and folksy 
                durability. There are more Tchaikovskian 
                references (Romeo and Juliet) 
                and it ends with the sweet troubadour 
                tones of Hélène Collerette's 
                violin solo - desolate yet sensitive. 
                The finale reeks of Imperial grandeur 
                (perhaps strange for the fateful year 
                1917 but then Liapunov never got on 
                with the Communist insurgency). The 
                mood is similar to that of the finales 
                of Glazunov 5, 6 and especially 8. It 
                is only in this movement that I had 
                my doubts about Svetlanov’s choices. 
                The music sometimes seems to limp along 
                with rather laboured emphases but this 
                does not take away from what is a most 
                satisfyingly discursive epic symphony. 
              
 
              
This is a concert performance 
                as the odd cough here and there proves 
                but the Paris audience is by no means 
                as bronchial as some. 
              
 
              
To fill out Liapunov’s 
                orchestral picture you might like to 
                try to track down two Olympia CDs. OCD 
                519 has Fedor Glushchenko conducting 
                the Moscow State SO in the Ballade 
                Op. 2 and the First Symphony (the 
                Symphony given an impassioned performance 
                - as stirring as that by Svetlanov in 
                the present Naïve recording). OCD 
                129 has a good selection of Liapunov's 
                shorter pieces. There is the Solemn 
                Overture on Russian themes - monumentally 
                grandiloquent in its final pages; Zelazowa 
                Wola - poetic as befits its Chopin-based 
                inspiration and Balakirev-inflected; 
                Hashish - a major oriental tone 
                poem; an exercise in freewheeling fantasy. 
                It is more Borodin than Griffes; a tangy 
                Polonaise and Liapunov's buzzingly 
                Rimskian orchestration of his teacher, 
                Balakirev's Islamey. The USSR 
                SO are conducted by Yevgeny Svetlanov. 
              
 
              
With these three discs 
                you have all the Liapunov orchestral 
                works apart from the two piano concertos. 
                If you have pretensions towards comprehensive 
                representation you should also track 
                down the Etudes d'Exécution 
                Transcendante (à la mémoire 
                de François Liszt). Either 
                the Malcolm Binns (Pearl) or Shcherbakov 
                (Marco Polo) versions will serve. 
              
 
              
Do not let this epic 
                late-late romantic symphony pass you 
                by. In Svetlanov's hands it goes with 
                a confident swing and broods with the 
                intensity of vintage Tchaikovsky and 
                Miaskovsky. 
              
Rob Barnett