There’s one discographic
novelty here. This is apparently the
first recording of the Grechaninov sonata,
a product of his early sixties, and
a work that makes a suitable companion
for the Tcherepnin sonata, written a
year later, though the work of a very
much younger man. This isn’t so common
a sight on disc in its own right, though
the Ivashkin-Tozer duo’s Chandos traversal
did its profile no harm. As for the
Rubinstein sonata this, rather like
his Viola sonata, appears with commendable
regularity, though it’s often a case
of searching the smaller labels for
signs of life. Apart from the high profile
Isserlis-Hough on RCA you would need
to look to Praga, Etcetera and other
smaller labels - there are several more
- for your Rubinstein.
All of which makes
this a decent looking option for those
seeking out this repertoire. The Rubinstein
is almost a case study in moderato.
Each of the three movements is a moderato
of some kind, modified or otherwise,
and it can make for a rather undifferentiated
work if the performers aren’t alive
to difficulty of projection. Fortunately
we have a reasonably realistic balance
between instruments and the Semenov-Stegman
duo plays with amiable understanding.
When the piano takes over the melodic
statements from the cello after the
latter’s early first movement cadenza
the accompanying cellistic figures are
as they should be – discreet and withdrawn,
not overpowering the piano. The vocalised
Siciliana of the second movement is
notable for piano arpeggios and scurrying
cello passagework – and for Rubinstein’s
gift for lyricism that takes the instrumental
to the foothills of the vocal. The finale
is a canny extension of the Siciliana
– an extroverted and once again very
vocal movement with little salon-ised
gypsy themes.
The Tcherepnin is his
third cello sonata and is brief. It
starts in media res and takes
the listener by surprise. The writing
is broadly Rachmaninovian and the piano
writing is often more arresting than
the cello line. The slow movement holds
its heart – short and expressive with
a contrasting central section. The piano’s
chiming treble glitters with life. Once
into the finale there are some bravura
Lisztian moments but once more Tcherepnin
disconcerts the listener by ending "in
mid air".
Finally, the Grechaninov
Op.113 sonata. Again this is a three-movement
work, rather bigger than the Tcherepnin,
and rather more forward-looking. There
are distinct hints of Prokofiev here,
amidst the clear piano part and its
Rachmaninovian chordal drive. But it’s
the rather strangely titled Menuetto
tragico that holds the key to this
work. The melody that opens it falters
and constantly re-starts – even the
later broader melody in a lower register
and the greater urgency of subsequent
themes fails to arrest the now gruffly
re-stated melody. There’s balletic and
lissom Russian drive in the finale –
maybe also a hint or two that Grechaninov
knew his Brahms.
Recorded in 1997 this
is a good coupling, very decently played
and recorded and especially valuable
for the Grechaninov.
Jonathan Woolf
Yuri Semenov (cello) 
for
details 
