Tcherepnin
Russian Dances, Op. 50
V. Allegro marziale

Czecho-Slovak State Philharmonic Orch.
Wang Sie Yip

Khachaturian

Cello Sonata (1966)
IV. Toccata

Mstislav Rostopovich
Karen Khachaturian

Shostakovich
Symphony Nº 5 in D minor, Op. 47
II. Allegretto

USSR Ministry of Culture Symphony
Gennady Rozhdestvensky

(Per Ekström | Öländsk landskap i soldis, 1901) 

Stravinsky
Four Russian Peasant Songs
for female chorus and four horns (1954)
I. “On Saints’ Days in Chigisakh”

Gregg Smith Singers et al.
Igor Stravinsky

(from the Imperial Photographic Survey for His Majesty Nicholas II, Sergei Prokudin-Gorskii, ca. 1910) 

Prokofiev
Alexander Nevsky, cantata from the film score
Op. 78
Nº 7 - Alexander’s Entry into Pskov 

London Symphony Orchestra and Chorus
Claudio Abbado

The cantata from Prokofiev’s score to Eisenstein’s epic propaganda film Alexander Nevsky is without a doubt one of my personal favorites in 20th century concert music; surely I’ve posted just about the whole thing by now. Its musical materials at times border on the banal, and that’s on purpose—what are you gonna do, what with Stalin peering over your shoulder and all—but those materials are treated ingeniously, if not entirely sincerely, in a way that only Prokofiev could have conceived and managed.

Eisenstein’s wartime film (1939) chronicles the victory of medieval prince Alexander Nevsky over Teutonic invaders: the obvious suggestion consists in comparisons between Nevsky and Stalin, and the Viking hordes and the Nazis. Here, in the closing victory march, the “Song about Alexander Nevsky” which opened the cantata is grandiosely reprised along with several other melodies from throughout the work. In the movement’s final moments, the noble diatonic melody is given a twisted, chilling harmonization which to me has always represented Prokofiev’s conflicted feelings about the ridiculousness of the whole enterprise, the large-scale squander of resources on such epic eye candy during harrowing times. That may be closer to Proko-fanfic than studious analysis, but on the other hand, I can’t think of any more compelling reason the composer might have colored the final triumph with such brutal strain. 

Tcherepnin
Symphony Nº. 3 in F-sharp, “Chinese,” Op. 83
II. Allegro pesante

Staatsphilharmonie Rheinland-Pfalz
Peter Gülke

The Russian-turned-American composer Alexander Tcherepnin (1899-1977) spent several years traveling and teaching in China and Japan in the 1930s. He was particularly fascinated with Shanghai, and his experiences there helped to inspire his “Chinese” Symphony of 1953. Writing in The Musical Quarterly in 1935, the composer said:

As soon as you leave the Nanking Road, you find yourself in one of the animated business streets, decorated with all sorts of flags. Here is a popular eating place. In the interior, you see a nimble cook preparing chops from a peculiar grayish stuff. Even from afar, you hear the penetrating rhythm of his handiwork, as he beats the chops with his wooden utensils. The rhythm is a definite one. It constitutes his individual “trade mark.”

Then you will notice that, wherever work is going on, it is done in a distinct rhythm…

(excerpted from Rhapsody in Red: How Classical Music Became Chinese, S. Melvin & J. Cai)

(photo by sakura.love)

Khachaturian
Suite from Othello
”Nocturnal Murder“ 

Slovak Radio Symphony

(photo by Malia León)

Prokofiev
Quintet for oboe, clarinet, violin, viola, and bass, Op. 39
V. Allegro precipitato

Ensemble Walter Boeykens 

(photo by bestarns)