One of Schnittke’s 
                masterpieces, the Piano Quintet 
                was written following the death of the 
                composer’s mother. It covers a wide 
                range of emotions, now despairing, now 
                somewhat mock-happy in the manner of 
                Shostakovich, and ultimately landing 
                on a plain of transcendence that is 
                almost childlike in its imagery. In 
                preparation for listening to this recording, 
                I revisited a number of others, since 
                this particular opus is well represented 
                in the catalogue. The estimable ensemble 
                Capricorn has a fine one (on Hyperion), 
                as do Mark Lubotsky and Irena Schnittke, 
                the composer’s wife (Sony). And another 
                recent one popped up in the shop just 
                this week, with the Moscow Quartet and 
                Gary Graffman (Fine Arts) from around 
                1998. It’s good to see this piece given 
                the adulation (i.e., performances) that 
                it deserves. 
              
 
              
The Quintet begins 
                with a mournful piano solo, that later 
                escalates into a repeated, struck note 
                that sounds more dire with each repetition. 
                To my ears, this is grief incarnate, 
                a driven, almost senseless cry for the 
                pain to stop. The little waltz that 
                insinuates itself later is also more 
                painful than not. Only in the final 
                movement, when the pain subsides into 
                a broad, mellow chords in the strings, 
                with a gentle tinkling of the piano 
                – almost like a music box – is there 
                any perception of some kind of lessening 
                of the initial intensity. 
              
 
              
This performance by 
                the Barbican Piano Trio is very fine, 
                with special guests Jan Peter Schmolk 
                on violin and James Boyd on viola. The 
                group plays with unwavering feeling 
                and finesse, showing a sensitive ear 
                for the work’s shifting moods and general 
                unease. 
              
 
              
The Piano Trio 
                is also one of the composer’s finest 
                works, and again, although a number 
                of other versions are happily available, 
                this one will do just fine. It was originally 
                written for violin, viola and cello, 
                to commemorate the one-hundredth anniversary 
                of Alban Berg’s death in 1985, but rewritten 
                in 1992 to include piano. The work is 
                cast in two movements, and from the 
                very first chords, the ghosts of Beethoven 
                and Schubert hang in the air, albeit 
                swirling around with Schnittke’s more 
                piquant harmonies as if filtered through 
                Shostakovich. Some of the movement even 
                sounds like Haydn – well, sort of. This 
                is one of the composer’s most clear 
                experiments with what sound like Baroque 
                cadences, but of course with his characteristic 
                astringency. 
              
 
              
For comparison, I checked 
                the world premiere recording of the 
                Piano Trio from 1993, featuring 
                Irina Schnittke, the composer’s wife. 
                The Sony project is faster, a bit more 
                flowing than the somber Barbican reading, 
                but I might prefer the latter’s sobriety 
                just a bit more, and the Black Box recording 
                is even finer-grained. In short, this 
                is an outstanding addition to the Schnittke 
                canon. As the years pass since the untimely 
                death of this extraordinary composer, 
                we are lucky to have so many of his 
                masterworks archived with such excellent 
                performances and recordings. 
              
 
                Bruce Hodges