Myaskovsky: Symphonies Nos. 17 & 21

As Alto continues with its release of volume XIII of Myaskovsky's symphony cycle, Warner Classics/France released its 16 compact disc set of that same cycle (plus the miscellaneous works Olympia/Alto for the most part skipped over-for now at least). These labels essentially took over where Russian Disc left off when it released its cycle back in the summer of 2001. But problems with funding, which was provided by the late Yevgeny Svetlanov himself, and disc quality made its long-awaited release rather short-lived (and releasing it in the first place had a long history of quandaries). And when Olympia Compact Disc Ltd. took over in reissuing this cycle, the recording market was already hit hard and Olympia, by then a struggling recording company, went defunct. Alto is seeing it through to the end, and whether the Olympia/Alto series will go under because of Warner's incarnation of this series is simply too soon to tell. But, many thanks are indeed in order for the tireless effort on their part as well as for the overall appealing, revealing presentation (courtesy in large part to the late Per Skans, deservedly well tributed here).

And the symphonies presented here represent much of the best of what Myaskovsky has to offer. The Seventeenth, written in 1936-1937 & dedicated to Alexander Vassilevich Gauk (who premiered the piece by December of 1937), has much going for it. The first movement has much of the Tchaikovskyian psychological drama & the lyricism that permeates throughout, and the reprise of its principal theme at the end of the movement is compelling (well executed here by Svetlanov and his Russian Federation Symphony). That theme, which also recurs in the second and last movements, strongly evokes, perhaps accidentally, the main theme of Sir Arnold Bax's symphonic poem "Christmas Eve" written in 1912. And it was not the first time these composers crossed musical paths. While the first movement, however longwinded, is nevertheless appealing, the second movement, lento assai-Andantino ma non troppo, is among the best coming of the composer's pen. Its beauty and high level of poetry are inescapable here. But it is highly dignified and genuine too, not paying much lip service to the ideals of Socialist Realism (more or less like his melodic Salutatory Overture obligely written in celebration of Stalin's sixtieth birthday). It is, nevertheless, a soulful movement, the one that seeps deeply into one's subconscious: indeed the hallmark of this great Soviet. And while the third movement is folksy and ear-catchingly so, the last movement is more or less reflective, not quite as celebratory as in his next symphony, the Eighteenth (dedicated to the 20th Anniversary of the October Revolution). But as far as this symphony is concerned, the heart was certainly on this composer's sleeves.

As in the case of his Twenty-first (Symphony-Fantasy in F-sharp minor as it is often called), which was among the number of pieces commissioned by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra to celebrate its 50th anniversary in 1940. And Myaskovsky, always this quiet, dignified, protesting of a giant musical, soul searching, soul finding artist, dedicated this work to the Chicago Symphony in French, a rather bold move in the height of Stalinism. Its premiere was given in Moscow by Gauk and the USSR Symphony on November 16th, 1940. The Chicago premiere, under Myaskovsky's most ardent promoter in the West, Frederick Stock, followed on the 26th of December. This symphony for quite some time was his most popular (if the word popular is even apt given how little of a vogue this piece achieved, even now). It is nevertheless highly reverenced, given its lucidity and its tight, concentrated structure, which is in a highly behaved sonata form (ABCBA, with its rather complex, interconnected tempo markings as andante sostenuto->allegro non troppo-ma con impeto->pio vivo e poco agitato->allegro->poco mento mosso->tempo I (andante)->lento). Its mysterious language & tone painting in the outer sections lean towards Rimsky-Korsakov while the lyrical warmth and passion rest in the middle of the piece, a typical Myaskovskian reflection and inner contemplation not at all far from Tchaikovsky. But as in so many of his works (his Cello Concerto and his Theme et Variations for strings comes to mind), Myaskovsky was his own man, as this series admirably demonstrated. And while there's so much of a misfortune that surrounds this series and the history of it, credits are due to all involved for making it possible. In Svetlanov's essay "How I was chased out of Russia in the Era of Democracy", printed in Naïve's album that features Lyapunov's Second Symphony, this late great, obdurate, conductor, was especially proud of his Myaskovsky cycle, and rightly so. And given the performances throughout, despite some of the surprises & the imperfections here and there, who I am (or rather who are we) to not acknowledge and be grateful for that? The genuine, intrepid, music making in this one hell of an odyssey shall forever be appreciated and venerated.

And even symbolically speaking. Next volume please!

The music of Nicolai Myaskovsky on this disc comes from the late 1930's, a critical period in the Soviet Union when the purges were in full swing and the Second World War loomed on the horizon. The 17th Symphony was written during 1936-37 and was dedicated to the conductor Alexander Gauk who conducted the premiere. Shostakovich's 5th symphony was also composed during this time. Myaskovsky's symphony was written to commemorate the 20th anniversary of the Russian Revolution but the drama of the music may also be a reflection of the troubling times.

The 17th is in the traditional four movements with a first movement is highly dramatic beginning with an ominous opening. The music has its foot in heroic Soviet Realism but as the movement progresses there are passages of quiet lyricism before plunging back into the conflict. The slow movement - Lento assai - is, like the greater majority of Myaskovsky's music, the true center. The music is very moving, more nostalgic than melancholy and the extensive use of the harp gives the music a lightness and grace. The climax of the music is triumphant and also restrained. The third movement is energetic and resumes the heroic tone but the tone lightens to become more like that of his teacher Liadov. The final movement opens quietly with the melody that opened the symphony and after an extended development introduces a dance-like theme which is interrupted by the heroic music of the first movement but returns as a fugue later. The symphony closes somewhat abruptly with a roll of the timpani.

The 21st Symphony was written for the 50th anniversary Chicago Symphony Orchestra in 1940. It is one of Myaskovsky's most famous works and is cast in a single movement. The symphony begins quietly with the lyrical melancholy tone of the composer's slow movements. The opening music, with a haunting clarinet solo, gives way to an Allegro based on folk songs that provides a lively dance that is interrupted by a melody that brings back the atmosphere of the opening. The symphony remains darkly lyrical and the more optimistic passages of Soviet Realism are tempered by the return of the dominant mood. The symphony returns to end as quietly as it began.

The Salutatory Overture of 1939 was composed for Stalin's 60th birthday, and like so much laudatory Soviet music it is all pomp and bombast. Myaskovsky shows us that he is a composer, however, and not a party hack by toning down the gaudy elements and writing a far more interesting overture with full dynamic range.

Nikolai Myaskovsky is a Russian composer who should not be missed, particularly if you have an interest in Russian music. The complete symphonies conducted by Evgeny Svetlanov are a magnificent achievement that was recognized with the orchestral Gramophone award (under a different record label) last year.

This disc is surely one of the highlights of Svetlanov's traversal of the Myaskovsky symphonies. The expansive 17th (48:27) and the relatively concentrated 21st (18:40) are highly contrasted works, but both are among Myaskovsky's greatest. For good measure we also get the 10 minute exuberant Salutatory Overture, written for Stalin's birthday in 1939 but a better work than one might be inclined to think. It is a work of tragic nobility and melancholia, and a very fine one, more profound for instance than similarly titled works tend to be - though it is surely no masterpiece and does, despite its qualities, pale in comparison with the main works on this disc.

The seventeenth symphony was written in 1936-37 and is a work of epic grandeur, full of Myaskovsky's idiomatic striving, darkly hued heroicism, though it encompasses a wide range of emotions and colors. The opening movement, Lento - allegro molto agitato, is immediately gripping; slightly reminiscent of Tchaikovskian lyricism, it contains some of Myaskovsky's most memorable themes, building up intense tension and energy. The Lento assai - Andantino (ma non troppo) is deeply romantic and perhaps even heart-on-sleeve, but what a wonderful movement it is! It is surely one of the most gripping symphonic slow movements of the twentieth century, wonderfully scored and superbly developed. The Allegro, poco vivace third movement is short and folksily buoyant, but with some surprisingly delicately woven textures. The finale presents a momentuous culmination of the work, but perhaps not quite in the way one would have imagined - instead of heroicism, it is a surprisingly warm and consoling movement; yet it still provides a powerful conclusion to this magnificent work.

The twenty-first symphony was written in 1940 and is (apparently) written in one movement - at least it is given a single track here. It is, obviously, much more concentrated than its companion on this disc, and strikingly variegated, driving from deep unease through lightning bolts of power, surging up to a magnificent triumph before settling for some decidedly darkly tinted pastoralism. And yes, it is another obvious masterpiece that really deserves much wider exposure.

Fortunately both works receive what must be deemed more or less ideal advocacy here. The Russian Federation Academic Symphony Orchestra is (or was) clearly a first-rate ensemble. They do not sacrifice energy for precision and refinement, but listen, for instance, to the brass contributions in some of the more lamentatious parts - at least I cannot imagine them better done than this. Svetlanov displays a deep understanding of the musical languge, and molds and shapes the music with utter conviction; and he is obviously a master of atmosphere. The recorded sound is fine - a little old and raw, perhaps, but well-balanced and clear, and the presentation is immaculate. A magnificent disc, recommended with all possible enthusiasm.