This is an attractive
collection of mostly less familiar works
from Prokofiev and Shchedrin. The Cinq
Mélodies Op.35 was originally
written by Prokofiev as a set of five
‘songs without words’ with piano, and
later arranged for violin and piano.
The composer orchestrated no.2 with
voice, but, in the words of Raphael
Wallfisch: "The orchestral version
had remained unheard until now because
the manuscript was languishing in various
archives. I had often played the violin
version on the cello and so, on discovering
Prokofiev’s manuscript, I invited Rodion
Shchedrin to complete the set using
the original as a model. Happily now,
thanks to the generous support of the
commission from Southbank Sinfonia,
there is now a NEW work by Prokofiev
for cello, violin or voice and orchestra!"
The result is a very
pleasant set of pieces, with a few of
those sinewy harmonic and melodic progressions
and lines for which we love this composer,
but very approachable, and at times
beautifully atmospheric and almost impressionistic.
The light scoring makes for transparent
textures, with no need for the solo
cello to fight with the orchestra. I
particularly like the mysterious sense
of exploration in No.3, and the pizzicato
humour in the poco scherzando of
No.4. These are highly effective pieces
of which I have no doubt we will be
hearing more in the future.
Rodion Shchedrin is
possibly best known in the west for
his Carmen
Suite of 1967, but the
much more recent Parabola Concertante
has a far more abstract musical content.
Dedicated to, and given the first performance
by Mstislav Rostropovich, the work is
quite grim and serious in mood, emphasised
by the often weighty tread of the solo
timpani. The pulse quickens in the middle
of the ‘parabola’ form, with rising
tension which builds from cello pizzicato
to an impassioned dialogue between strings
and soloist. There is a remarkable timp
solo later on, which goes entirely against
one of the orchestration rules I was
taught: never to use timpani as a melodic
instrument! If you like your Russian
music intense and darkly moody then
this won’t be a hard pill to swallow,
but don’t expect the clouds to lighten
and the sunshine to pour into the room
while it’s playing.
The second half of
the programme presents works which should
be more familiar to Prokofiev fans,
although the Concertino Op.132
is less widely performed or recorded
than the Symphony-Concerto (or
Sinfonia-Concertante) Op
125. The ‘premiere’ recording of this
work appears on a Chandos disc entitled
‘Unknown Prokofiev’, although there
is a version on Naxos from 1997 – neither
of which I have to hand for comparison.
The Concertino was in fact unfinished
at Prokofiev’s death in 1953, but there
was enough of the short score for an
initial completion by Dmitri Kabalevsky
in 1960. Vladimir Blok made his new
completion of the Concertino in
order to make a more compact version
for chamber orchestra, omitting heavy
brass, and generally bringing the work
more into proportion with its relatively
short duration. As its title suggests,
the musical content is comparatively
‘light’, with some jaunty melodic invention
appearing in the central Andante.
There is no escaping the Russian wryness
in the humour which does appear, and
there is no escaping some of the ponderous
material in the first movement. The
final Allegretto almost seems
to go too far in the opposite direction,
with some twee tambourine shakes and
triangle taps which serve to emphasise
something of a throwaway finale. This
is an interesting addition to the repertoire,
but by no means Prokofiev’s best work.
The disc ends with
the justly famous Classical Symphony
Op.25, which here serves the function
of a filler to the works for cello.
The most interesting aspect of this
work’s appearance here is hearing it
performed by chamber forces rather than
a pared-down symphony orchestra. This
works well, though with fewer strings
to make the more demanding passages
less exposed there are one or two moments
where the comfort zone becomes a little
edgy. The Southbank Sinfonia produce
a decent enough noise, though there
are some mild issues of intonation here
and there with the winds both in this
piece and elsewhere in the programme.
Simon Over’s tempi in the symphony are
fine, but err more on the side of being
measured rather than genuinely swift.
This is a serviceable enough recording
of Prokofiev’s wonderful little ‘pocket
symphony’, though unlikely to knock
you off your seat with excitement.
This is a very well
recorded and performed programme, with
the acoustic of the large hall at Wyastone
Leys providing a good setting for the
chamber orchestra and soloist(s). The
Cinq Mélodies are the
star discovery for me from this release.
With some of the less well-trodden paths
in Prokofiev, and a substantial work
from Shchedrin which will be unfamiliar
to just about everyone, this is a disc
worth exploring by cello aficionados
and repertoire explorers alike.
Dominy Clements
for details
