Composer: Janis Ivanovs
Works: Piano Concerto (1959), Symphony No. 10 (1960)
Performers: Igor Zhukov (piano), Latvian National Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Vassili Sinaisky
Recording: From the sound archive of Latvijas Radio, recorded in 1977 (Piano Concerto), 1982 (Andante), and 1963 (Symphony No. 10)
Label: Campion CAMEO 2013
Janis Ivanovs, a significant figure in the Latvian musical landscape, carved out a unique compositional voice that resonates with the late Romantic idiom while embracing modern influences. His orchestral works, particularly those from the late 1950s and early 1960s, reflect a mature synthesis of Nordic lyricism and Russian robustness. The present album, which features his Piano Concerto and Symphony No. 10, encapsulates Ivanovs’ ambition as a symphonist and his deft handling of orchestral textures.
The Piano Concerto, lasting just under twenty minutes, presents an intricate tapestry of contrasting moods and styles. The opening Allegro is marked by an assertive introduction, reminiscent of Prokofiev’s First Piano Concerto, wherein the piano asserts itself with formidable energy. Igor Zhukov’s performance brings a visceral intensity to the work; his playing is both powerfully assertive and subtly nuanced, navigating the phrase structures with a deftness that honors Ivanovs’ complex rhythms. The second movement, Andante, is particularly striking, evoking the introspective qualities of early Rachmaninov, yet with an undercurrent of Baltic melancholy. The string writing here is lush, and while the liner notes mistakenly suggest a ‘cello ensemble,’ the full string orchestra is evocative of a meditation akin to Barber’s Adagio, albeit with a distinctly Ivanovian twist. The interplay between the piano and orchestra is expertly handled, with Zhukov’s lyrical passages occasionally pierced by the more strident orchestral declarations, creating a dynamic dialogue that holds the listener’s attention.
Turning to Symphony No. 10, the work unfolds in four movements, opening with a Dialogo that exudes a sense of urgency and anxiety, akin to the bracing textures found in Allan Pettersson’s symphonic output. The Toccata Basso Ostinato follows, marked by motoric drive and a palpable sense of foreboding that recalls the visceral energy of Khachaturian. The Intermezzo provides a contrasting moment of introspection, blending the simplicity of long melodic lines with the complex, layered textures reminiscent of Roy Harris. While the Symphony does not achieve the seamless thematic development of more established symphonic forms, it creates a compelling atmosphere that showcases Ivanovs’ unique voice.
The recording quality, derived from radio tapes, does present some challenges, particularly towards the end of the pieces where tape degradation is evident. Yet, this does not overshadow the listening experience; rather, it adds an air of authenticity to these historical documents of Latvian orchestral music. The engineering choices have preserved the raw energy of the performances, allowing the listener to engage with the music’s emotional core, even if the fidelity is not state-of-the-art.
This latest installment in Campion’s ongoing exploration of Ivanovs’ oeuvre enriches our understanding of a composer who merits a prominent place alongside other 20th-century symphonists. The performances by Zhukov and the Latvian National Symphony Orchestra, under Vassili Sinaisky’s direction, highlight the essential qualities of Ivanovs’ music: its lyrical beauty, rhythmic complexity, and emotional depth. These works are not merely historical artifacts; they are vibrant contributions to the symphonic repertoire that deserve recognition and further exploration in today’s concert halls.
