The WarnerNuzova duo — cellist Wendy Warner and pianist Irina Nuzova — makes its recording debut with five late-Romantic Russian works on an album dedicated to the memory of one of Warner’s mentors, the illustrious Russian cellist, composer, and conductor Mstislav Rostropovich (1927–2007).

Fittingly, two of the pieces were originally written for Rostropovich: Nikolai Miaskovsky’s rarely heard Sonata No. 2 in A Minor for Cello and Piano, Op. 81; and Alfred Schnittke’s Baroque-inspired Musica nostalgica, for violoncello and piano.

This is the first American recording of Miaskovsky’s mellifluous Sonata No. 2, a work that’s rarely performed outside of Russia. It will be a discovery for most listeners.

Alexander Scriabin’s Etude Op. 8, No. 11, is a beautiful encore piece brimming with chromatic harmonies; Sergei Prokofiev’s Adagio from Ten Pieces from Cinderella, Op. 97b, is based on a duet from his ballet; and Sergei Rachmaninov’s Sonata in G Minor for Cello and Piano, Op. 19, is a riveting four-movement work from the same period as his Second Piano Concerto.

Nikolai Miaskovsky (1881 – 1950), Sonata No. 2 in A minor for Cello and Piano, Op. 81 (23:11)

1 I. Allegro moderato (9:42)
2 II. Andante cantabile (7:26)
3 III. Allegro con spirito (5:56)

4 Alexander Scriabin (1872 – 1915), Etude Op. 8, No. 11 (04:03)Transcription by Gregor Piatigorsky

5 Alfred Schnittke (1934 – 1998), Musica Nostalgica, for Violoncello and Piano (03:22)

6 Sergei Prokofiev (1891 – 1953), Adagio from Ten Pieces from Cinderella, Op. 97b (03:51)

Sergei Rachmaninov(1873 – 1943), Sonata in G Minor for Cello and Piano, Op. 19 (34:05)

7 I. Lento – Allegro moderato (10:39)
8 II. Allegro scherzando (6:38)
9 III. Andante (5:59)
10 IV. Allegro mosso (10:34)
 

The spirits of three great Russian cellists permeate this CD of music from the late-Romantic and modern eras. Two of their names are familiar: Gregor Piatigorsky and Mstislav Rostropovich, among the greatest instrumentalists of the 20th century. The third is Anatoly Brandukov (1856–1930), a graduate of the Moscow Conservatory who later taught there. He had an international career as a soloist, chamber musician, and conductor, with particular success in Paris. His onetime theory teacher, Tchaikovsky, dedicated his [date] "Pezzo Capriccioso" to Brandukov. In 1901, the young Sergei Rachmaninoff dedicated to the cellist one of his few pieces of chamber music, the Sonata for Cello and Piano in G Minor. Brandukov and Rachmaninoff premiered the work in Moscow in December 1901, not long after the premiere of one of Rachmaninoff's most enduring works, the Piano Concerto No. 2 in C Minor.

Brandukov's listing in the current edition of Grove's Dictionary of Music and Musicians (an evaluation by cellist-musicologist Lev Ginzburg) cites his "stylish interpretations, refined temperament, and beautiful, expressive tone." The sonata gives the cellist ample opportunity for expressive playing through page after page of glorious melody. Yet this work also allows the pianist to shine and even frequently dominate the proceedings, reminding us that Rachmaninoff was himself a keyboard virtuoso.

The work’s short, pensive slow introduction presents a characteristic motive for the entire first movement: a rising semitone or half-step (e.g., B Natural to Middle C) heard right away in both instruments. These opening measures are in 3/4 time. For the main Allegro Moderato we shift to 4/4 meter and hear another characteristic cell in the piano part — a rhythmic one this time — two emphatic eighth notes followed by a quarter: ta-ta-TUM. The first theme, ruminative and expansive, in G Minor, is given to the cello with the indication "espressivo e tranquillo." The second theme, in D Major, is heard in the piano first and heralded by the rhythmic cell. The exposition repeat is not taken in this performance; it goes directly to the development section, which focuses a good deal on the rhythmic cell and the rising semitone, and on a rapid 16th-note passage for the piano. The cello has pizzicato (plucked) as well as arco (bowed) passages while triplets in the pianist's right hand set up two-against-three rhythmic patterns. To announce the approach of the recapitulation, the piano has what can only be called a cadenza, even though that kind of virtuoso solo passage is more associated with concertos than sonatas. The cello re-enters with broad leaps over piano chords to lead to the recapitulation, with the second theme returning in G Major in sonata-form tradition. The piano's 16th notes coming out of the development introduce the energetic coda.

The Allegro Scherzando second movement begins and ends in C Minor. Its opening passages require the cellist to alternate quickly between pizzicato and arco over broken-octave patterns in the piano, played pianissimo at first and building up to fortissimo chords. The cello introduces a lyrical second theme in E-Flat Major. The "trio" midsection, very lyrical in both parts, modulates to A-Flat Major before the hushed C Minor returns for an almost note-for-note recapitulation of the opening.

Like the Scherzando, the Andante movement is ternary (A-B-A) in form. The piano opens with a simple E-Flat Major tune that's picked up and expanded by the cello. The midsection returns to the work's home key of G Minor. Although the Andante's time signature is 4/4, the pace is varied by numerous triplet passages. G Major is the principal key of the fast-paced and emphatic finale. The triplet-laced first theme is dramatically propulsive in both parts; the second theme, marked "espressivo" for the cello, is a straightforward tune that firmly outlines the contours of a D Major scale. The development portion is dominated by triplet patterns and heavy chords for the piano. The recapitulation returns both themes in G Major. A sudden pause is heralded by a very low G in the bass of the piano, with broken chords above it and a soft cello melody that briefly brings back the two eighth notes and one quarter rhythmic cell and rising semitone of the first movement before the piece ends with a vigorous coda marked Vivace.

Few music-lovers will need to be introduced to the extraordinary life and career of Mstislav Rostropovich (1927-2007): cellist, pianist, conductor, composer, political dissident, and freedom-fighter. Shostakovich, Prokofiev, and Britten were among the 20th-century musical giants who composed cello music that Rostropovich introduced to audiences worldwide. Less well-known than these is Nikolai Miaskovsky (1881-1950), who combined the careers of composer, critic, and teacher. His early education combined military training with musical studies; he served as an officer in the Russian Imperial Army during World War I and later was part of the early Soviet military establishment. But his longest tenure of any kind was on the composition faculty of the Moscow Conservatory, from 1921 until his death.

Miaskovsky is best remembered for having composed 27 symphonies, few of which are currently performed (several appeared in the repertory of the Chicago Symphony under Frederick Stock in the 1930s and 40s, however). Miaskovsky's other works include concertos, band music, string quartets, piano scores, and a great quantity of songs. One of his last works, the Cello Sonata No. 2 in A Minor, full of song-like melodies, was written in 1948–49 and dedicated to Rostropovich.

The sonata's style is very much in the lyrical late-Romantic vein in which Miaskovsky was comfortable and prolific all his life; it takes no note of the dissonance and atonality that had come to dominate classical music in the mid-20th century. Like pretty much everything by Miaskovsky, it's seldom played nowadays. Although it can be found on a number of recordings, it's likely to be a discovery for most listeners: a discovery combining lyricism, expressiveness, and grace. The opening Allegro Moderato movement is based on the usual structures of sonata form, but there are no clear divisions between sections and themes; the music feels continuous. The rippling outlines of A Minor and C Major triads in the piano part support a cello theme that's reiterated in a higher register. A secondary theme in C Major moves in faster notes, mostly eighths instead of quarters, but the rippling effect continues. The development gives the first theme, transposed, to the piano, while the cello explores its full range from lowest to highest. A modulation to F-Sharp Minor punctuates the recapitulation, the second theme is briefly re-stated in A, and the coda is based mainly on the opening theme.

The 4/4 meter of the first movement is contrasted by the 6/8 triple-meter of the Andante Cantabile movement, whose first cello theme in F Major is a songful waltz melody. New material is introduced in F Minor and the movement proceeds through several key changes while its mood shifts from serene to rhapsodic as its harmonies become more chromatic. A concluding passage gives the cello a long descending scale over piano octaves. At the opening of the finale, Allegro con Spirito, the cello is asked to play spiccato: bouncing the bow across the strings instead of drawing it smoothly. This accentuates each note of the scurrying main theme, in A Minor, supported by chords and octaves in the piano accented off the beat. This movement is a Rondo, with the insistent main theme returning several times, contrasted with more relaxed sections, though the pace and forward propulsion never really slacken. There are stronger dynamic contrasts here than in the earlier movements, reinforcing the vigor of the themes and providing a sequence of unexpected surprises. At the very end, fortissimo decreases to piano, but the music does not just die away: the piece ends with a pair of triumphant fortissimo chords.

Alfred Schnittke (1934–1998) studied music in both Vienna and Moscow. He lived most of his life in the Soviet Union, and clashed occasionally with the system's rigid artistic ideas. His last years he spent teaching, writing, and composing in the German city of Hamburg. His large work-list includes symphonies, concertos, chamber music, operas, choral works, and numerous film scores. Influences that have been discerned in his works, or that he himself cited, include Russian romanticism, the Austro-German symphonic tradition, Shostakovich, serialism, Baroque music, sacred music from the Middle Ages onward, jazz, and folk music. His symphonies can seem to channel Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, Bruckner, and Berg, both quoting and distorting these sources. The result is usually termed “polystylistic.” What stylistic analysis can leave out is Schnittke's sense of humor, which emerges in pieces that mock but also pay loving homage to music from the past. One such piece is "Musica Nostalgica," written for Mstislav Rostropovich in 1992. Both composer and soloist must have smiled over and greatly enjoyed this simple Minuet, a wry little encore whose harmonies are almost aggressively diatonic. Perhaps its only departure from the 18th-century Minuet tradition comes through being mostly in a minor key (A Minor). After the simple opening melody exchanged between the players, there's a short cello solo serving as midsection, then a varied repeat of the opening. Haydn would have loved it.

The all-too-brief, 43-year life of Alexander Scriabin (1872–1915) witnessed his transformation from a post-Chopin keyboard Romantic a post-Wagnerian musical philosopher espousing grand gestures and large orchestras. In his final years his focus shifted again, toward futuristic experimentation in the realms of polytonality and atonality. One wonders what innovations might have emerged from a longer lifespan.

Scriabin was a genius both on the small scale (e.g., his shorter piano works) and on the larger canvases represented by his full-length piano sonatas and works for orchestra. The Op. 8 Etudes of 1894, a set of 12 miniatures obviously modeled on Chopin's two sets of similar pieces, reveal further influences from the virtuoso tradition of Liszt, Scriabin's own taste for chromatic harmonies, and an air of moodiness often identified as a specifically Russian form of melancholy. The folk-like themes of the Op. 8, No. 11 Etude in B-Flat Minor, mellow and lyrical, must have felt especially apt for transcription to legendary cellist Gregor Piatigorsky, who created this lovely encore piece. Labeled Andante Cantabile and sticking mostly to the minor mode, it begins and ends very softly, with rich piano chords and passage-work supporting the cello’s song.

Serge Prokofiev's ballet Cinderella comes from the years of World War II, when he also worked on the opera War and Peace: two 20th-century masterworks inspired by literary genres of the Romantic age — the fairy tale and the Russian novel. The ballet was unveiled at the Bolshoi Theater in 1945. Prokofiev extracted a set of piano pieces, Op. 97, from the full score and transcribed one of them for cello and piano, Op. 97b. This is the Adagio from Act 2, a pas de deux (duet) for Cinderella and the Prince, who have just discovered each other at the ball. The pace is that of a waltz, beginning almost hesitantly and gradually becoming more passionate.

Andrea Lamoreaux is music director of 98.7 WFMT, Chicago’s classical experience.

Miaskovsky’s Sonata No. 2 in A minor is a rare gem. It was the impetus for this first recording project of the cello-piano duo Wendy and I formed in 2008. Why Miaskovsky? Because outside of Russia this special work remains largely unknown: only around a dozen recordings have been made in the last few decades, and almost every one of these involves Russian performers. We are proud to be the first to record this sonata on American soil, with an American cellist, and on an American label. But we still have strong Russian roots: Wendy Warner studied and performed extensively with Mstislav Rostropovich and Russia remains my native culture — musically and emotionally.

A Russian maxim reads, “All is not gold that glitters.” I would say that the reverse applies to Miaskovsky and this sonata in particular: Something that does not glitter can still be gold. The sonata’s pervasive, nostalgic quality speaks to the Russian soul and mind, but it is subtle and subdued in its expression. Its intrigue and inspiration may not be fully apparent upon first hearing; the music is rather introverted and does not sweep up the listener like Rachmaninov’s sonata. But Miaskovsky’s sonata is absolutely jewel-like in its clarity and simplicity.

Although Miaskovsky was celebrated in his time, his creative endeavor was still a personal struggle. Like much of the Russian intelligentsia, he was faced with the historical “break” caused by the Bolshevik Revolution of 1917. The question was: how to resolve the profound disconnect with the past while preserving personal integrity. The newly formed proletariat ideology was not a language everyone could adopt with ease. Prokofiev found expression in liveliness and mischievousness; Shostakovich in sarcasm and irony. Miaskovsky stood to the side of those giants in a quiet way. Perhaps he had to suppress his stronger sentiments, but his voice remained his own: unsentimental yet sensitive, unpretentious yet firm, restrained yet consistent.

Miaskovsky’s music expresses its emotional reserve with dignity. His theme is nostalgia for Russia as it existed in the 19th century, preceding the turbulence of the 20th century in which he lived but to which he perhaps felt a stranger. His music does not exhibit any of the innovations from the early 20th century: atonality, polytonality, 12-tone system, or neo-classicism. Rather, Miaskovsky fits in with the romantic tradition of the late-19th century. From this perspective, his music may be thought of as neo-romantic.

Miaskovsky’s Song Cycle Op. 1 sets a poem by Baratynsky, a Pushkin contemporary. If one were to substitute ‘music’ for ‘verse’, and ‘listener’ for ‘reader’, the poem might well read as an epigraph to his creative oeuvre, as well as to the composer’s modesty.

Evgeny Baratynsky

Untitled, translated by Peter France

(…)

My talent is pitiful, my voice not loud,

but I am living; somewhere in the world

someone looks kindly on my life; far off

one of my descendants will read my words

and discover me; and, it may be, my soul

will connect with his soul, and as I

have found a friend in this generation,

I shall find a reader in posterity.

Мой дар убог, и голос мой негромок,

Но я живу и на земле мое

Кому-нибудь любезно бытие:

Его найдёт далёкий мой потомок

В моих стихах; как знать? душа моя

Окажется с душой его в сношеньи,

И как нашёл я друга в поколеньи,

Читателя найду в потомстве я.

In performing the A minor sonata, I am drawn towards images of Russian nature. The Russian soul is tied up in so many ways with the Russian landscape, which is, after all, one of the few enduring touchstones of our collective memory. Also, for me, having left the Soviet Union in the early nineties, it is associated with the pangs of nostalgia for my native country. Surely Miaskovsky also gained inspiration from images of the vast Russian landscape, and in particular the rich literary tradition associated with it. The first movement, in quite an organic and natural way, brings to my mind a poem by the Russian symbolist Konstantin Balmont (1867–1942). The poem, “Bezglagol'nost" (translated as “Wordlessness”), conveys the melancholy beauty and boundlessness of Russia’s fields and rivers, and their vast quietness, with its intimation of timeless sadness. No English translation existed for this poem, and I have found myself hard-put to explain its meaning to non-Russian speakers. Happily, Angela Livingstone (Professor Emeritus, Essex University, England) generously offered to make the first translation into English specifically for this recording project.

Konstantin Bal’mont

Wordlessness, translated by Angela Livingstone 

In all Russian nature there’s tenderness, tiredness,

An unrevealed sorrow, a pain that is speechless,

Unsoothable mourning, immensity, silence,

Cold height, and an endlessly vanishing distance.

At daybreak come out to the slope of a hillside—

The shivering river is misty with coolness,

And black is the motionless mass of the pinewoods.

Your heart feels a pang, and your heart is not gladdened.

The reeds are unstirring, the sedge doesn’t quiver.

Deep quiet. And wordlessness, utterly peaceful.

The meadows spread out faraway and forever.

In everything - weariness, muteness and bleakness.

At sunset, go into— as into cool water —

The wildness and chill of a villager’s garden—

There, trees are so strangely unspeaking and sombre,

Your heart feels a sadness, your heart is not gladdened.

As if your soul asked for the thing it was seeking     

And got in response an unmerited anguish.

Your heart did forgive, but your heart became lifeless,

And cannot cease weeping and weeping and weeping

Безглагольность

Есть в русской природе усталая нежность,

Безмолвная боль затаенной печали,

Безвыходность горя, безгласность, 

безбрежность,

Холодная высь, уходящие дали.

Приди на рассвете на склон косогора,—

Над зябкой рекою дымится прохлада,

Чернеет громада застывшего бора,

И сердцу так больно, и сердце не радо.

Недвижный камыш. Не трепещет осока.

Глубокая тишь. Безглагольность покоя.

Луга убегают далеко-далеко.

Во всем утомленье — глухое, немое.

Войди на закате, как в свежие волны,

В прохладную глушь деревенского сада,—

Деревья так сумрачно-странно-безмолвны,

И сердцу так грустно, и сердце не радо.

Как будто душа о желанном просила,

И сделали ей незаслуженно больно.

И сердце простило, но сердце застыло,

И плачет, и плачет, и плачет невольно.

“The performing duet of Wendy Warner on cello and Irina Nuzova on piano play as all good partnerships should, as one. In their case, it's almost as if one performer were playing both instruments, they are so attuned to one another's feeling and responses. The two women ...play with style, with grace, with refinement, and with deep emotional attachment, yet always placing the music above any showmanship on their part. Most important, however, they appear to reach into the heart of this heart-wrenching music and convey its inner spirit with not only clarity and precision but with ultimate passion. They are consummate artists.”

John J. Puccio, Classical Candor

“Sorrow was never sweeter than in the long, slow opening theme of the Cello Sonata, which Warner rendered as a generous outpouring of dark, singing tone in deep-breathing phrases. Through most of the sonata, Brahms moves the piano and cello together in rhythm. It's as if he merged the two instruments into a single, harmonizing line, as opposed to assigning roles of melody and accompaniment. Nuzova and Warner sounded entirely attuned to this notion and to one another in this beautiful and compelling reading.” 

The Milwaukee Sentinel

“This duo of Russian pianist Irina Nuzova and American cellist Wendy Warner beautifully parade a stimulating cross-section of works by beloved 20th century Russian composers Prokofiev, Rachmaninoff, and Scriabin and modern cats Miaskovsky and Schnittke... Warner’s fluid, amber-hued cello is one of the most plaintively poetic sounds this writer has heard all year and Nuzova’s style is stark, lyrical, and rhythm-bound. 5 out of 5 stars.”

Mark Keresman, Icon Magazine 

“Warner and Nuzova put forth technically spotless playing, extremely tight ensemble playing, ideal balance between the two instruments, and a real sense of a singular musical vision.”

All Music Guide

“Chicago cellist Wendy Warner plays with a rich tone and spot-on intonation as well as a perfect understanding of the subtle and not-so-subtle stylistic differences that inform this music of different eras, different esthetics. Her partner, Moscow-born and American-educated Irina Nuzova, is in full accord with Warner, whether supplying the ripe chords of the Scriabin or the intricate passagework of the Rachmaninoff.”

Lee Passarella, Audiophile Audition

“They [Wendy Warner and Irina Nuzova] revel in the score’s riches, Warner drawing a tone of great depth and vibrancy from her cello, while Nuzova matches her partner with luxuriantly resonant sound across her piano’s full range.”

Jerry Dubins, Fanfare

“Wendy Warner is a magnificent cellist, and in Irina Nuzova she has found a keyboard partner who matches her in passion, elegance, and imagination. The result is as beautiful a chamber music recital as we have any right to expect. ... Rachmaninov (is) the real prize. Just to hear the wonderful use of rubato at the opening is a treat. Warner has a real gift among cellists: a low register that never sounds like the proverbial dying cow, and a remarkable evenness of timbre throughout her range. Nuzova, for her part, glitters in the scherzo and finale, but never overpowers her colleague. A stunning release. 10 out of 10.”

David Hurwitz, Classics Today

“Wendy Warner and Irina Nuzova confirm themselves as high-ranking artists with this excellently recorded and produced CD of Russian Music"…“Such full-blooded and committed playing can’t fail to entrance.”

STRAD

“...with a particularly pleasing warmth and texture, the performance is direct from the heart, elegant in line and sumptuous in tonal expression...” “The shorter pieces are done with absolute devotion and care and make for the perfect aural palette cleansing between the two big sonatas: decadent Scriabin by way of Piatigorsky, delightful neo-Bachian Schnittke light on wry and the love duet from Prokofiev’sCinderella as tender and passionate as can be.”

Gramophone

“The debut of a distinguished new duo partnership.” “Warner’s playing is totally secure technically, glowing in tone-colour, and  beautifully moulded; Nuzova is an accomplished and sensitive pianist….clearly a fine-tuned partnership.”

BBC Magazine

“Rachmaninoff’s sonata...reminds me of one of my most prized recordings of the work, by Knushevitsky and Oborin back in ’62. (it’s now included in the Brilliant box devoted to the cellist – 8924). Technical challenges are met with splendid aplomb, and the players strike a fine balance between sinew and elegantly shaped rubato. Their use of colour and texture are highly effective, and the warmth which they brought to Miaskovsky is equally palpable here, not least in the glorious slow movement. This is a sensitively traversed and very well argued performance.”

 Jonathan Wood, MusicWeb International

Click here to download the CD booklet.