Barber Reconsidered in Review

Barber Reconsidered in Review

Barber Reconsidered: Celebrating Samuel Barber’s 105th Anniversary
Maxim Anikushin, pianist, organist, harpsichordist, carilloneur; Eric Silberger, violin; Thelma Ithier-Sterling, soprano
Bruno Walter Auditorium, New York Library for the Performing Arts at Lincoln Center, New York, NY
September 26, 2015

 

Pianist Maxim Anikushin offered a lecture recital, exploring little known works by Samuel Barber, featuring both live and recorded performances on piano, organ, harpsichord, and carillon, as well as some videography. His multiple talents are undeniable, as is his enthusiasm for the material. The bulk of the program consisted of lots of small juvenilia from Barber’s childhood (as early as age seven) and adolescence. Perhaps, Barber knew best, however, never releasing these pieces for general publication, for they don’t really add much to our reverence for this iconic composer, and are mainly of academic interest.

Mr. Anikushin opened with the solo version of the Souvenirs, Op. 28. This was the only non-juvenile work, one that is pretty well-known to piano duos. Barber stated that he wished to evoke the charming music of the Palm Court at the Plaza Hotel. When done in the original four-hand, one piano version, more charm and intimacy are possible, and the genre emerges for what it is. Mr. Anikushin was most successful in the pathos-laden Pas de deux, and his tempo and lightness in the Two-step was a marvel to witness. Elsewhere, the music sounded a bit stiff (the solo pianist does have an awful lot to do) and needed a great deal more charm and flexibility.

There followed Three Themes (1923), a Menuetto, Andante religioso, and Allegretto on C, none of which revealed much originality, with a mélange of Classical styles as models. The Petite Berceuse (1923) had a poignant lyrical idea that repeated itself, each time landing on a novel harmony. The Essay II (1926) was more interesting in its adoption of certain “brutalist” gestures, possibly influenced by Stravinsky, as Mr. Anikushin pointed out in his remarks. Barber was fond of the concept of a musical “essay,” and named three mature orchestral works “Essay” as well. Two more childhood compositions: Sadness, and Lullaby (these were the age seven and nine works), were rather square. The Lullaby at least displayed ingenious cross-hand work, showing pianistic ingenuity, if not exceptional musical precocity.

Maxim Anikushin and Horace Gibson

Maxim Anikushin and Horace Gibson

Then came one of the most interesting byways of the concert: a three-movement Suite for Carillon (1930/33). Mr. Anikushin learned to play the carillon in several prominent locations in the U.S. (they all vary wildly in pitch and the weight of the wooden mallets one has to depress to activate the bells), following in Barber’s footsteps as an avid carilloneur. The sonority, accompanied by the clever video shot from the tower of New York’s Riverside Church, was lovely, inducing reverie in this post-Papal-visit New Yorker.

After intermission, Mr. Anikushin’s talent as an organist and harpsichordist was displayed. In a fragment of an intended Partita on a Bach chorale, all we heard was the Bach portion, which didn’t say much about Barber. Nor did the Fugue No. 5 from Five Fugues. The Canon No. 4 played on piano (then again on organ), a scant, busy, and difficult twenty-five seconds long, was accompanied by a whimsical video of a live bat that had entered Mr. Anikushin’s apartment.

The only completed movement from a Violin/Piano Sonata (1928) was given an excellent, passionate reading by the big-toned, bold romantic playing of Eric Silberberg and Mr. Anikushin. Their ensemble was excellent, and they managed to “paper over” some of the meanderings of the youthful Barber. They followed this with a “Gypsy Dance,” from an opera planned by Barber when he was twelve (The Rose Tree), which sounded mainly like warmed-over Fritz Kreisler in its inclusion of folkloric musical gestures.

The recital closed with a charming set of songs (again very early compositions), sung with expressive meaning and delicacy by Thelma Ithier-Sterling. The most shimmering, beautiful playing of the afternoon was Mr. Anikushin’s work as collaborative pianist in these songs, which didn’t venture much above “parlor” material, with the exception of the early version of “Daisies” (varying substantially from that found in Barber’s complete published songs) and the lovely “Slumber Song of the Madonna.” One of the songs was in French, a sophisticated choice for a boy, but the music emulated some portions of Fauré, without the French penchant for proportion and taste.

Mr. Anikushin clearly has a big technique and a lot to say, with his many instruments as well as his comments. He has been reviewed favorably in these pages before, by the estimable Harris Goldsmith. I would recommend that he do two things: 1) lavish his talents on better-quality music, and 2) remove the chip from his shoulder about funding, recording projects, procuring rights to music, etc. Come on Maxim, I know you’ve heard of Kickstarter, right?

Share
by Frank Daykin  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY

Maxim Anikushin, Pianist in Review

Maxim Anikushin, Pianist in Review
Carnegie Hall (Stern Auditorium); New York, NY
April 5, 2012

In October 2011, The Russian-American Cultural Heritage Center designated April as Russian-American History Month, and to launch the first RAHM in New York State, the RACH-C presented the superb pianist Maxim Anikushin in his first Carnegie Hall recital in the big Stern Auditorium (he had made his noteworthy debut in the smaller Weill Recital Hall on March 9, 1999–only three days after his 23rd birthday). In this writer’s glowing review [in Volume 6, No. 2 of this journal], I prophesized the burgeoning artist as “undoubtedly destined to enter the annals of his generation’s important young pianists.” Thirteen years and numerous concerts later, Anikushin has triumphantly confirmed my expectations. His April 5th recital was a heartwarming affair, and I am proud to remain an unstinting admirer.

Mr. Anikushin’s generous, well balanced program fittingly reiterated several aspects I remember from his past interpretative work: at his aforementioned debut in 1999, a superior performance of the Op. 109 Sonata served notice that he was an idiomatic Beethovenian (by no means a “given” with the best Russian pianist—even Gilels and Richter, et al). As confirmation, the entire first half of the Carnegie Hall program was dedicated to superlative versions of the composer’s Polonaise, Op. 89, “Andante favori”, Wo0 57 and “Waldstein” Sonata, Op. 53. The Polonaise had a dancing and uncluttered rhythmic spin, and the Andante (said to have been originally intended as the “Waldstein”’s second movement) had simplicity and honest flow. As for the “Waldstein”, which I have heard Anikushin play very well in the past year, his interpretation has matured and intensified: this time, he has brought certain details to the fore (e.g. the trimmings and inner voices in the slow movement; and whereas in his earlier account, he chose the pianistically expedient “solution” of playing the octave glissando as two-handed scales, he now opted for the specified Urtext, and also the loud/soft dynamic in the original manuscript). One more observation: the transition into the Rondo was magically poetic and exquisitely timed.

In 2010, Mr. Anikushin paid homage to the American composer Samuel Barber on the centenary of his birth with a handsome retrospective of his solo piano and chamber music. That recital at the New York Public Library served notice that he has real love and inspired affinity for Barber’s music (he is now recording a disc of his music for Albany Records, a mouthwatering prospect). Mr. Anikushin repeated his mercurial, sensitivity-nuanced and dramatically persuasive version of the Piano Sonata, Op. 26, along with delectably played encores of his Lullaby and the Waltz from his “Souvenirs”. (Among the encores was the “Dance Russe” from Stravinsky’s “Petrouchka”).

Anikushin’s musical persona is, to his greatest credit, brilliantly virtuosic, but also elegant, tasteful and essentially classically reserved: I can give no higher compliment than to write that he is very much in the tradition of such fine paragons as the fondly remembered Benno Moiseiwitsch. His wonderfully warm and intimately crafted interpretations of Tchaikovsky’s “Dumka”, Op. 59 and two vignettes, “January” and “May” from “The Months”, Op. 37 verged on perfection.

There was also a belated premiere of a 1991 composition, “Mirage” by Yekaterina Merkulyeva (b. 1956), which the musician–born in Leningrad (now again St. Petersburg)– penned in 1991, immediately after her immigration to America. “Mirage” is, in the composer’s note, “a Romantic Fantasy…[describing] different emotions, both trepidations and excitement, depression and alienations battling at once with both hope and nostalgia , the unreality, at least to someone who grew up in the Soviet Union, of this incredibly energetic , frenetic, unpredictable, dreamy, yet perhaps sometimes dangerous city we live in.” Ms. Merkulyeva’s description further acknowledges influences of Mussorgsky and Prokofieff (I heard ‘sound bites’ of the “Suggestion Diaboliques” and “Old Grandmother’s Tales”). The approximately 6-minute long piece fitted well into the masterfully put together program.

The concert, in summation, was absolutely worthy of what major artists can deliver. What did sadden me was that the house was so scantly filled (all the boxes, dress circle and balcony were empty). Alas, Mr. Anikushin’s public acclaim has not been kept abreast of his richly deserved talent!

Share
by Harris Goldsmith  for New York Concert Review; New York, NY