Scriabin/Rachmaninoff: First Piano Sonatas
Zixiang Wang, piano.
Blue Griffing Recording BGR 579
Total Time:  64:15
Recording:   ****/****
Performance: ****/****

Pianist Zixiang Wang’s debut release provides an opportunity to explore two different approaches to the piano sonata by two of Russian composers at different stages of their careers.  The music of Alexander Scriabin (1872-1915) is perhaps less known here in the US.  His sensual orchestral music is a bit of that Symbolist-Impresssionist style from a distinct Russian perspective building on Wagnerian ultrachromaticism.  His first sonata (1892) was written earlier in his career and delineates his own personal struggle with damage to his right hand from excessive practicing!  Rachmaninoff’s music has tended to maintain itself well in the public concert hall though his solo piano music tends to demand great facility and virtuosic demands on the performer.  Written in 1907, his first piano sonata was written during the composer’s more mature period—a time that also saw completion of the second symphony.  Both pieces are still fairly rare, or at the very least, bear fewer overall current available recordings than other works in their oeuvre.

Scriabin’s sonata kicks things off with its grand romantic pianistic gestures in the opening “Allegro con focoso”.  In this four-movement work, we can hear more Chopinesque writing in a piece that can feel like we are sitting in a grand salon.  The music fits more into that traditional style of the period without some of the more outlandish chromatic writing Scriabin would later explore.  In that sense, the sonata is a bit of a departure point to hear his early style as it would then evolve.  The first movement structure is intriguing structurally, a hint at the composer’s experimental nature.  The second movement is a bt more spiritual in focus with a choral-like quality.  After a virtuosic display in the third-movement scherzo, we head into the funereal final movement, marked “Funebro”.  The march, with its echoes to Chopin, is perhaps the composer’s acknowledgment of the death of his own concert career.

The music of Liszt finds its natural connection to Rachmaninoff’s first piano sonata both in its inception and inspiration—supposedly the underlying connection is a musical essay on Faust.  A three-movement work with towering outer allegros to frame a romantic rumination on Gretchen, the sonata is an equally demanding virtuoso accomplishment.  The outer movements feature references to the “Dies Irae” plainchant that haunted so much of Rachmaninoff’s work.  It becomes a subsidiary idea within expanded textures and often shocking dissonances in the surrounding material.  The dramatic qualities are also important here and Wang manages to bring these out well.

As a bit of an encore, Wang has chosen a rarer prelude, the Prelude in F, which was reimagined for cello and piano and published as Op. 2, no. 1.  The choice here fits with Wang’s interest in bringing to light less familiar repertoire in his concerts.

Wang’s performance are quite excellently handled here and his virtuosity is not to be questioned.  He is able to shift gears well to help add more to the communicative quality of the music.  The delicate passages in the Scriabin are quite moving.  The Rachmaninoff allows for an even more admiration for his rapid passage work coupled with the gentle reposes.

Blue Griffin has captured the piano well in this studio recording.  There is just enough ambience to allow the sustains to die off well.  The piano sound itself is a bit bright and crisp which allows Wang’s passage work to shine.  Just enough pedal to help add what is needed in the big moments can provide the proper blurring that aids the darker, or more dissonant moments.  These are committed performances that bring a proper emotional balance to the music.  Certainly this is a good place to start to explore these rarer works even with some fine complete surveys of the Scriabin currently available.  For those who find the later Scriabin not to their liking, this will make a gentle introduction to his more traditionally romantic qualities.  The Rachmaninoff is equally stunning and more programmatic than one might at first perceive.  Both pieces sit well together on this release which is worth tracking down for those interested in Russian piano literature.

 Mendelssohn: Violin Concerto in d; Concerto for Violin and Piano
Solomiya Ivakhiv, violin.  Antonio Pompa-Baldi, piano.
Slovak Philharmonic Orchestra/Theodore Kuchar
Brilliant Classics 95733
Total Time:  66:13
Recording:   ****/****
Performance: ****/****

Haydn: Concerto for Violin and Piano in F, Hob. XVIII: 6;
Hummel: Concerto for Violin and Piano in G Op. 17
Solomiya Ivakhiv, violin.  Antonio Pompa-Baldi, piano.
Slovak Philharmonic Orchestra/Theodore Kuchar
Centaur 3742
Total Time:  56:22
Recording:   (*)***/****
Performance: ****/****

Over the course of four days in November, 2017, violinist Solomiya Ivakhiv recorded four rarer concerti with Theodore Kuchar and the Slovak Philharmonic Orchestra.  The results have turned up on two different labels with the Mendelssohn having been released in 2019 and the other more recently.  Ivakhiv teaches at the University of Connecticut and Longy School of Music at Bard College.  In her own personal studies she worked with Joseph Silverstein among others.  She has traveled widely as a soloist and chamber musician.  Over the past decade she has also served as the Artistic Director of the “Music at the Institute” at the Ukrainian Institute of America in New York City.

Felix Mendelssohn’s work is featured on the 2019 release.  Here, Ivakhiv has chosen not the overly familiar last concerto (which has more than 200 current versions to choose from in the catalogue), but two early works composed by the 13-year-old composer—the period of the more familiar string symphonies.  First discovered and performed by Yehudi Menuhin in the 1950s, the work has not really gained a foothold in the repertory.  At best it becomes a work that reveals the amazing precociousness of the composer, something not really in doubt.  The 1822 concerto is cast in the traditional three movements with a written out cadenza in the last two movements.  It certainly helps see the way the Mozartean influences now filtered through a budding romantic sensibility.  Mendelssohn melds some of the new French performance techniques of his own teacher, Eduard Reitz, into the solo part.  And so, it is an interesting musicological curiosity.  Ivakhiv’s approach helps highlight the emotional lyricism of the work played with the sort of commitment that is often absent from other readings.  There is also some fine cello writing that adds some emotional breadth in the slow movement.  The same might also be said for the other work on the album, the Concerto for Violin and Piano in d (1823).   Here we see further development of Mendelssohn’s compositional skills even within the six months that separated the works here.  On another level, it is also another run of exploring the same key center.  The opening is a bit more tumultuous and quiet lengthy (running almost 20 minutes on its own).  A bit more Beethoven casts its shadow here coupled with Mozart, and even perhaps a nod to Bach.  It is certainly striking to hear the intriguing modulations and harmonic writing coupled with a growing command and understanding of orchestral writing.  This will certainly make the music intriguing to fans of early Romanticism and the opening solo passages are certainly more impassioned.  It certainly was an ambitious work for the young Mendelssohn and may very well be one of his longer large-scale orchestral works running to 40 minutes—a bit overlong in the long run.  There are also some moments where the orchestra seems to push the tempo and are pulled back slightly.

The second release here on the Centaur label explores two works of Classical Era composers, though both are somewhat at the cusp of musical shifts.  First is a double concerto by Haydn.  Composed in 1766, the center of the composer’s Sturm and Drang period (though leaning toward a more Rococo sensibility), the work is likely for either harpsichord or organ as its keyboard source, though here a piano is chosen.  Certainly it allows for the two to balance well in the texture.  The work is cast in the traditional three-movement form.  The keyboard still has an almost continuo-like quality at times, integrated into the string texture before it surfaces as the solo instrument.  The central “Largo” is a rather serene moment of beauty which is then capped off by a thrilling “Presto” with a certain modicum of wit.  Echoes of the Baroque still abound in the work with sequences and immediate imitation between the soloists as well as between soloist and orchestra helping to move the music smoothly along.  The feel of the work is more like a church sonata/concerto hybrid.  Pompa-Baldi provides sublime, Mozartean qualities to his performance and certainly bodes well for him as a Mozartean.  Ivakhiv provides a committed performance here as well with some gorgeous playing in the slow movement.  It is here as well where articulation is so wonderfully matched between the soloists.

Hummel’s double concerto was composed around 1805.  Its first movement features some intriguing dark harmonic shifts in the development section with some exciting cadenza moments.  The central movement is a set of theme and variations that are an excellent example of the composer’s orchestral style and features some wonderful touches throughout the movement.  The finale is a brilliant “Rondo” filled with storms and excitement.  Hummel’s work builds more on Mozart here though the wind writing is a bit more interesting with nice colorful thematic statements.  The solo theme is a lyrical idea that is quite beautiful on violin.  It is also interesting to hear some additional wind work under some of these moments with strings also working to help add a harmonic undercurrent.  This is where Beethoven’s approach is perhaps the louder echo, but it is also a real hallmark of the increased exploration of the orchestra which Hummel is equally adept at, even if the melodic ideas can seem less weighty at times.  Otherwise, there is more an air of Mozart in the elegant music that Hummel crafts here.

The sound on the Brilliant Classics release is warm and inviting with well-imaged solo delineation.  The orchestra seems to respond a bit more to the Mendelssohn pieces, perhaps out of a sense of awe at the work of a teenager.  The performances are certainly fine enough and committed to presenting the music quite well.  The double concerto is interesting, but quite lengthy with material not quite sustaining itself through, this is offset by the brilliant solo writing though.  Both Ivakhiv and Pompa-Baldi find a great deal of joy to bring out, especially in the opening movement with its almost salon-like lightness.  But even here, it is hard to overcome all those sequences and repeated gestures that are peppered throughout the piece.  The Centaur recording is a tad dry (especially in the Haydn), though that tends to emphasize clarity.  The soloists are well-imaged in the sound picture though.  Rather oddly, there is no information about these pieces in the meager booklet insert which focuses on performer biographies.  The Haydn is a fine performance on modern instruments and will make a nice introduction to these pieces.  His concerti continue to be less prominent but are no less worthy of their time.  The Hummel is not anything that will stay in the ear long, but it is a well-crafted work of its time.

For those looking for unique repertoire, these albums are certainly worth seeking out.  Both Ivakhiv and Pompa-Baldi provide committed performances throughout both releases.  It is more a matter of personal taste as to which one might prefer over the other in this overall rare traversal of less popular repertoire.