In Memoriam is the orchestral version of the Quintet with piano. It was G. Rozhdestvenski who asked Schnittke for an orchestration, the density of the expression being rich enough to support such a transfer (in this, I cannot help but think of the orchestrations of certain Shostakovich quartets by Barshai, the two composers sometimes having common traits). The piano part will be shared between winds and percussion. The strings would suffer little arrangement. The overall transcription remains literal, the instrumentation rich and colorful. This work, whose origin is the death of the composer's mother, is marked by great sadness and continuous darkness. The 5 movements are linked fairly quickly, the first and last are both moderato.
I have seen the Tale's performance of these quartets described as "too on edge"; I cannot agree, and believe that this young quartet brings out the subtle beauty and nuances of Schnittke's music perfectly. There is real violence and grief in these quartets, certainly - especially the remarkable Second Quartet. But there are tender stretches of music, too; and the Tales have more than the musical wit needed to negotiate their way around and through Schnittke's strong contrasts in tone and mood.
Schnitke' s Third Symphony is possibly his most daring and ambitious musical project. The impressive orchestral mass' employment, the exploratory character of every one of its four movements and the overwhelming perspective that hovers it, make of this work hard to label it.
Schnittke’s first cello concerto was written during a near fatal time in his life, after having suffered a severe stroke in 1985, during which his heart stopped three times. Upon recovery he completed the concerto, the music becoming more dissonant and discordant, with the melodies more contorted.
Two large scale Schnittke works featuring choir. The Symphony No. 4 is brittle, frequently dissonant and abstract, but not wholly inaccessible; not a piece to immediately grab at a listener. While demanding, the work has sections of alien beauty, such as before and after the entrance of "Ave Maria". Unfortunately the entire piece is relegated to a single track on the CD. The Requiem is more immediately approachable. Eerie and gothic, I'm surprised that it hasn't shown up in a soundtrack. The rock drumming near the end seems a little shocking but is surprisingly effective without seeming a pandering fusion piece.
With a 20-page booklet (with notes in English, German and French) in a standard jewel case. Russian violinist Mark Lubotsky is a self-professed disciple of his teacher, David Oistrakh, aiming to perpetuate Oistrakh’s ethos—the perfect balance of technique, emotion and intellect—in his own playing and teaching. His success is acknowledged in critical praise: ‘Lubotsky plays on the highest level of technical perfection and with wonderful power’, wrote the London Times in 1988, whilst the Financial Times in 1980 noted his ‘musical poise… characterized by intellectual strength and emotional intensity’.
Symphony No. 6. Life and work come together in a particularly disturbing way in Alfred Schnittke's Sixth Symphony. Schnittke wrote the work in 1992, after sustained his second major stroke; he suffered his first in 1985, would suffer another in 1994, and, eventually, a fourth in 1998 would take the composer's life. While Schnittke's debilitation was constant and cruel, his fortitude was more astonishing, and his post-1985 "late period" bore a tremendous spring of new music: 3 operas, 4 symphonies, 6 concerti, and many smaller works.
Schnittke has since become one of my favorite composers, and probably deserves more recognition. The sadness, desolation, and strangeness of his music is a perfect soundtrack for today. The piano quintet is a good introduction to his works; my personal favorite works of his are his more radical violin concertos. Fans of dark and brooding classical, or the rock group Univers Zero, buy immediately.
The Third Concerto is scored for a wind-heavy chamber orchestra and ranges across a musical landscape that includes Mahler, Schubert, Russian Orthodox chant, Berg, and Hindemith, yet remains a fascinating personal statement. The magnificent Fourth is the prize of the set, one of the century's most profound and disturbing concertos. Written for Kremer in 1984, it has lyrical passages of ethereal beauty, but also jagged, violent orchestral eruptions that silence the lone violin, reducing it to silent gestures.
Alfred Schnittke’s work has won wide acceptance in recent years, particularly since political changes in the former Soviet Union. His early studies in Vienna were followed by formal training at the Moscow Conservatory, where he later taught. His musical language is eclectic, combining a number of styles, contemporary and traditional.