KNIAZEV & LUGANSKY
Music of Chopin and Rachmaninoff

A cello-and-piano team from Russia has made an impressive new recording. They are Alexander Kniazev, the cellist, and Nikolai Lugansky, the pianist. And their recording features two works: Chopin’s Cello Sonata in G minor and Rachmaninoff’s Cello Sonata in that same key. (The label is Warner Classics.)

Chopin wrote few pieces for instruments other than the piano, and they tend to be subpar: This cello sonata is no masterpiece, and his songs are a disappointment. He did his best song writing in his piano pieces. And, in fact, the Largo of this cello sonata — a type of song — is probably the best thing in it.

Nonetheless, Messrs. Kniazev and Lugansky make an admirable case. They play coherently and often stringently; they allow no flaccidity. Mr. Kniazev’s sound has a bit of a growl in it, or a burr; Mr. Lugansky tends to be hard and gleaming. Every line in this performance is alive, and you have a sense that no moment is wasted. These performers don’t just roll along.

Rachmaninoff’s sonata is one of his best pieces, and one of the best pieces in all the cello literature. And Messrs. Kniazev and Lugansky treat it with the intelligent passion it deserves. The scherzo has the right excitement, sort of breathless. The slow movement — like that in the Chopin sonata — is a beautiful song. A really, really beautiful song. And these players sing it both freely and sensibly.

The finale includes another song: warm-hearted, gratifying, universally beloved. Here, Mr. Kniazev, in particular, is a little mannered, I believe. More straightforwardness would help. But the performance is far from spoiled.

I have said that this CD features two works, but there is a third: Rachmaninoff’s “Vocalise” (speaking of beloved songs). Mr. Kniazev takes too much license, too early, and the piece is out of shape. It is harmed by exaggeration. It is also somewhat slow and ponderous. Other than that …

A final note, and a curious one: You know how a musician can make a lot of noise when breathing — when sucking in air through the nose? Mr. Kniazev (I assume) does this, all through the recording. The habit is distracting enough in a concert hall; on a recording, it is truly unfortunate.

But maybe I shouldn’t sniff.

YEVGENY SUDBIN
Concertos of Tchaikovsky and Medtner

Yevgeny Sudbin, the young Russian pianist, has made another CD, on the Bis label. A couple of months ago, I commented on his recordings of Scarlatti and Rachmaninoff. The new disc has him in two concertos: Tchaikovsky’s No. 1 and Medtner’s No. 1.

The Tchaikovsky you know, as well as your own name. But how about the other concerto? Nikolai Karlovich Medtner (1880–1951) is intensely loved by a group of cognoscenti, and may never become a majority taste. But majority taste isn’t everything, heaven knows. He wrote three piano concertos, the first of them during World War I. Detractors would call it bombastic and messy; advocates would call it exploratory, even visionary. I call it interesting, surprising, and worth a listen.

Mr. Sudbin certainly loves the piece, as you can tell from his playing, and from the very good essay he wrote for the CD booklet. The young man is utterly commanding, with tremendous fingers and a strong musical mind.

Playing with him is the São Paulo Symphony Orchestra, led by John Neschling. Mr. Neschling is Brazilian-born, and he also happens to be a grand-nephew of both Arnold Schoenberg and the conductor Arthur Bodanzky. There’s a pedigree.

Mr. Sudbin adds an encore of sorts, and it is his own transcription of a Medtner song: “Liebliches Kind!” This is a beautiful and limpid piece, and it comes as a tonic — almost a kiss — after Medtner’s long, hard-driving concerto. In addition to which, it’s nice to see Mr. Sudbin joining the great tradition of pianist-transcribers.

RITA STREICH
‘Immortal Melodies’

Finally, a walk down Memory Lane, and a totally refreshing one: Deutsche Grammophon has released a disc of Rita Streich, the Russian-born German singer who lived from 1920 to 1987. She was a splendid coloratura soprano, as this CD proves. Her singing is clean and accurate, smart and tasteful. Of technique, she had no end; and she had an equal amount of charm. The music is lightish — “Voices of Spring” and such — but Streich never sings down to it. She is dignified, pure.

Among the selections is the Lullaby from Benjamin Godard’s “Jocelyn.” Do you know that Bing Crosby recorded this piece with Jascha Heifetz? Strange, but true.