Both the Cello
Concerto No. 1 and Cello
Concerto No.2 have been reviewed before on MusicWeb International,
and this double disc set brings Schnittke’s major orchestral works
with cello together with the two sonatas, also previously released
on a ‘complete works for cello and piano’ single disc. There are
of course a number of other significant cello works not included
here, so this in no way stakes any claim to completeness, but
in the safe and specially priced hands of the Chandos ‘twofer’
label and with the inspired playing of Alexander Ivashkin this
has to be a worthwhile collection.
The Cello Concerto
No.1 was the first work Schnittke completed after the first
of a number of strokes which would eventually prove fatal. Indeed,
this first stroke was itself almost the end for Schnittke, and
he was clinically dead – his heart stopping three times through
the ordeal of the illness. He had started work on the piece
in the spring of 1985, and worked on the piece through his convalescence,
saying it felt as if he ‘had laid down the pen only yesterday.’
This is in opposition to Ivashkin’s own booklet notes, which
have it that Schnittke ‘had forgotten everything and had to
start again from scratch.’ Which is the more accurate story
I know not, but either way it is a remarkable achievement given
the circumstances. The dedicatee, Natalia Gutman, recorded the
work in 1991 with the London Philharmonic under Kurt Masur –
EMI CDC 7 54443 2, but while the performance is very good, Gutman’s
solo cello is rather improbably balanced against the large orchestra
in the Abbey Road studio. Ivashkin and the RSSO have the mixed
benefit of the Great Hall in the Moscow Conservatory, making
for a more atmospheric general impression and a more realistic
balance, but with less detail and more acoustic dirt to contend
with when all of the percussion’s pots and pans are flying around.
The work’s dramatic content comes over very well however, and
the impact of the brass is chilling in the extreme.
The Sonata No.1
for cello and piano is one of Schnittke’s most frequently
performed works, but this is not to say that it is especially
‘easy’ for player or audience. There are however plenty of resonances
which refer symbolically to earlier styles, and with the impassioned
and authoritative playing of both Ivashkin and Schnittke’s widow
Irina this is very much a recording of importance. Both of the
sonatas were recorded in the same Great Hall as the concerto,
and once again the acoustic plays a significant role. The piano
seems more distant than one might normally expect, and the solo
cello, while again realistically balanced, is sometimes almost
washed away in waves of notes from the piano. As a recording
this has more the feel of a concert registration than an ‘in
your face’ studio recording, and it will depend on your taste
whether you prefer it to something like the Maria Kliegel recordings
on Naxos, or Bis’s more recent release
with Torlief Thedéen and Roland Pöntinen. The sparing, atmospheric
gloom of the Sonata No.2 is favoured more by the Moscow
setting, with the minimal piano writing often providing a mere
frame for the pictures painted by the solo cello. The first
movement is indeed largely a monologue for the cello soloist,
and the while second allows a more sculptural contribution the
cello still has the bulk of the expressive content. This was
one of the last works Schnittke wrote, and is certainly filled
with dark imagery and gloom – the final, timeless movement extending
beyond its two minute duration into a kind of infinity.
The second disc
covers the vast Cello Concerto No.2 and the Concerto
grosso No.2, like the first concerto dedicated to Natalia
Gutman with violinist Oleg Kagan, and recorded by them with
the USSR Ministry of Culture Symphony Orchestra under Gennadi
Rozhdestvensky and extravagantly released on two sides of a
Melodia LP in 1986. The Cello Concerto No.2 is as much
a symphony as a concerto, and this it has in common with a number
of Schnittke’s concertos. The battle of the soloist with the
huge orchestra is held on a big scale in the second movement,
with percussion and massed forces almost literally driving the
soloist from the stage. The third is haunting and mystical,
Ivashkin pointing out the ‘symbolical idea of a hero and his
shadow’ as a typical idea of Schnittke’s later work. Ivashkin
also usefully indicates some references to some of the musical
forms and earlier works that Schnittke employs throughout, and
the performance as a whole is a challenging assault on the senses.
The Concerto
grosso No.2 famously has references both à la Bach,
and to Gruber’s carol ‘Stille Nacht’ and, while ostensibly appropriating
the baroque model of solo concertino and accompanying
ripieno, the definitions and borders of both are constantly
in a state of flux, the flexibility of the large symphony orchestra
allowing for any number of chamber music combinations. This
massive and frightening score is given the full works by everyone
concerned, and while the perspective on the bass and the harpsichord
are a little strange the whole thing has all of the overwhelming
power you could wish for.
This is a very welcome
‘2 for 1’ re-release of these recordings. The main current competitors
in this market come from a diversity of sources, but Bis’s excellent
recordings with Lev Markiz and Leif Segerstam have been something
of a benchmark for quite a while now. I don’t have them to hand
for direct reference, but my recollection says that, while they
might just have the edge for recorded refinement, these Chandos
versions have the advantage of that nervous brinkmanship of anarchic
Russianness which has to have been what Schnittke had in mind.
Take the development towards that lugubrious funeral march in
the Pesante second movement the Concerto grosso No.2.
At about 1:30 in there is a little knot of string players on the
right who nag the soloists at the beginning of each bar like a
chorus of naughty kittens, and each moment where the march becomes
full-blown – for instance at around 2:07 and especially 2:43,
could give any film thriller as much musical gravitas as that
of ‘The French Connection’. Those who didn’t buy these recordings
the first time around are now fortunate; this set is surely today’s
hot ticket into Schnittke’s big works for ‘accompanied’ cello.
Dominy Clements
Alexander Ivashkin (cello) 
