Reminiscence of the Future, Sonatas for accordion is one of the few albums presenting original literature for a concert accordion. Among numerous emerging musical projects, it is certainly a unique one, showing the sound qualities of this instrument and extremely valuable works, until now undiscovered in the world of classical music. In each of them, it is the above-average dose of content that plays the supreme role. The programme content of each sonata is closely related to the fate of a given composer. What connects the composers present on this album is the experience of the hardships of creating in the authoritarian regime. Adam Maksymienko is one of the most prominent accordionists of the young generation, a laureate of numerous competitions, and an artist with considerable stage performance achievements even at such a young age.

The structure of Shostakovich's First Violin Concerto is particularly original, with a sequence of four movements - slow, fast, slow, fast - entitled Nocturne, Scherzo, Passacaglia and Burlesque. The opening movement (Nocturne) is a beautiful song, blossoming from a single melodic fragment. The Scherzo is biting and dazzling virtuosic, like a carousel gone wild. The ensuing Passacaglia is, quite simply, the pinnacle of this concerto; a masterpiece - mature, elegiac and highly lyrical. The passacaglia theme is repeated nine times with contrapuntal elaborations. This is followed by a large-scale cadenza that forms a bridge to the finale. The concerto closes with a Burlesque, in which the theme from the Passacaglia has one final, piercing reappearance. Shortly after the premiere of Gubaidulina's Offertorium (1981), the Swiss patron of the arts Paul Sacher asked her to compose a further violin concerto for the German soloist Anne-Sophie Mutter, but nothing came of this due to lack of time. It was only in 2007, eight years after Sacher's death, that Gubaidulina completed In tempus praesens, which was given its premiere by Mutter at the Lucerne Festival. It is a work of extreme contrasts in which very deepl infernal passages are juxtaposed with extremely high, celestial episodes. Much more so than Offertorium, In tempus praesens is a spectacular work for the violinist, who plays virtually from start to finish and barely has a chance to pause for breath. The virtuosity demanded by the work is never an end in itself.

This is a hybrid Super Audio CD playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.

Within the output of Sofia Gubaidulina, solo and chamber music occupies a position of prominence; she has written more than eighty such works. One of the earliest is the brief – and not really typical – Serenade for solo guitar from 1960, composed as a commission from a Moscow publishing house for inclusion in a collection of guitar compositions. The composer was asked to write a piece not overly difficult or progressive, and has later described the result as ‘music for pleasure’. Demonstrating a particular closeness to the guitar, Gubaidulina’s later writing for it has exploited its sound spectrum in previously unimagined ways. Two further works involving the guitar are included here, with Repentance from 2008 being a reworking of an earlier work, just as its title is a translation of the original’s Italian one, Ravvedimento. Her latest work involving the guitar, and also the latest on this disc (and a world première recording) is Sotto voce for viola, double bass and two guitars. About this unusual combination, Gubaidulina has remarked: ‘It fascinated me on account of its dark colour and its potential for contrast between a muted, almost whispered sotto voce sound and that particular sort of expressivity that low-pitched instruments possess’. Each with a duration of more than 20 minutes, these two works frame the equally substantial but much earlier Piano Sonata. Looking back at her youth, the composer has described the piano in her family home as ‘the only light’ in ‘a fairly grey and uninteresting existence’. Striking features of the sonata include borrowings from jazz and the twelve-tone row which underpins all its three movements – a nod towards the dodecaphony through which Gubaidulina asserted her place in the Russian musical avant-garde at an early stage. This varied and fascinating journey into the world of Sofia Gubaidulina’s chamber music is given us by a Munich-based group of eminent musicians.

Gubaidulina emerged onto the international stage as Perestroika gradually liberated artists and ideas.

Born in the Tatar Republic she studied with Grigory Kogan in the Kazan Conservatory. Later she worked with composition professors Nikolai Peiko and the much older Vissarion Shebalin. For many years now she has been a cosmopolitan voice celebrated on disc, at music festivals, quickly published and multiply commissioned. Her keynote works, at least in terms of exposure, are the Violin Concerto Offertorium and the Symphony Stimmen.

The music is much taken with exotic mysteries, ideas and texts - somewhat in the manner of Tavener though her music differs. The two pieces recorded here are part of a not large but noteworthy stream of modern works written for the bayan - the folk derived accordion. Fachwerk is dedicated to the player featured here who also premiered it in Amsterdam in 2009. The single movement 37 minute span suggests a mercurial and lapidary fairy tale. The music is accessible enough with rumbling, cajoling, howling, ululating and balladeering from both bayan and orchestra. It's a virtuoso display in the manner of The Firebird - the latest manifestation of the Russian folktale. The music glitters and rings. Then comes the five movement Silenzio. This is more internalised and reflective, severe and less endearing.

Draugsvoll - a pupil of Mogens Ellegaard - proves himself a most subtly facetted artist whose collaborations with composers of the stature of Gubaidulina have yielded rewards for both himself and the composers.

Draugsvoll and Gubaidulina are by no means alone in the field of concert music for bayan. Another bayan player, Friedrich Lips has been active with symphonic works by Solotarjov, Podgaits, Bronner and Berinsky.

Gubaidulina's two works for bayan prove much more than curiosities.

-- Rob Barnett, MusicWeb International

Ilona Timchenko's upcoming album Echoes of a Hidden Legacy is a deeply personal and artistically courageous tribute to the music of Albert Semyonovich Leman, a composer of profound humanism whose voice, shaped by brilliance and adversity, has remained largely unheard beyond Russia Bringing together two major piano cycles written for and dedicated to her (Verhaeren Suite and Schallwellen (Waves of Sound)) both presented here in world premiere recordings. Timchenko restores a living connection to her teacher's artistic vision. Having inherited Leman's final piano, the very instrument on which these works were composed, she creates a rare continuity of sound and spirit, bridging past and present in a performance that is at once intimate, poetic, and architecturally luminous. Inspired by the symbolist poetry of emile Verhaeren, the Verhaeren Suite transforms atmosphere into music of striking psychological depth, while Schallwellen explores resonance and vibration with a contemplative modernity grounded in expressive sincerity. The album is completed by Sofia Gubaidulina's powerful Chaconne, written during her studies with Leman, forming a symbolic arc from teacher to student, from legacy to continuation. In this carefully curated program, Timchenko does more than interpret: she listens, remembers, and reawakens. The result is not merely a recording, but an act of artistic restoration, a testament to resilience, mentorship, and the enduring force of sound itself. With her commanding presence and lifelong commitment to contemporary music, Ilona Timchenko invites us to rediscover a voice that speaks not as an echo of the past, but as a vibrant and necessary presence in today's musical landscape.

A real winner of a CD.

Sofia Gubaidulina, the 80-year old Russian/Tatar composer, is one of the most respected of living composers. She has composed in a variety of genres, but her concertos have gained a wide following and for good reason. As witnessed by the concertos on this CD, they are indeed remarkable and glorious works. In tempus praesens is her second violin concerto. The first such concerto, Offertorium, was written more than twenty-five years before this one. Both have received multiple performances and are considered two of the finest in recent times. Gubaidulina composed In tempus praesens for Anne-Sophie Mutter, who recorded it with the London Symphony and Valery Gergiev for Deutsche Grammophon. The concerto receives its second recording here.

Gubaidulina’s Russian Orthodox faith is never very far away in her compositions and they have religious significance. In the case of this violin concerto the title refers to the present time. More important, the work embodies the divine wisdom personified in the orthodox religion by the saint Sophia. Since Gubaidulina’s Christian name is Sophia and she composed the concerto for and dedicated it to Anne-Sophie Mutter, the figure of Sophia has a special significance in the work not only in her divine wisdom, but also in the very creative power of God. This is reflected throughout the work in the contrast between the dark as demonstrated by the use of the low brass and strings and the light by the violin solos. The concerto is in a single, long movement that is sub-divided into five parts. It is a shame that neither Mutter’s première recording nor this new one has more than a single track. It would have made it much easier to assimilate the work had there been separate tracks for the individual sections. As it is, though, the concerto grips the listener from the beginning and does not let go until it reaches ever upward in a spectacular climax by the whole orchestra like a burst of light, only to have the low brass (trombones and tubas) growl at the very bottom of the orchestra. The solo violin, however, gets the final say and ends the work on a high, sustained note. In tempus praesens is one of those works that exhilarate the listener so that you want to immediately go back and hear it all over again. There is a DVD out titled “Sophia: Biography of a Violin Concerto” with Gubaidulina and Mutter on this very composition. I haven’t seen it, but it has received critical acclaim. One would imagine, then, that Anne-Sophie Mutter “owns” the work, but here is a challenger in Vadim Gluzman who has his own equally valid interpretation. He is superbly accompanied by Jonathan Nott and the Lucerne Symphony and the recorded sound is indeed stunning. One associates Nott more with Schubert or Mahler, but it should be remembered that he did yeoman service to the large orchestral works of Ligeti in the Volume II of Warner’s Ligeti Project. To briefly sum up my impression of the main difference between these two recordings, Mutter’s is the more extrovert and Gluzman’s the more inward. Certainly, Mutter with her larger-than-life tone grabs the listener from the beginning and Gergiev’s orchestra also makes more of an impact for most of the concerto. Part of this is due to the recordings, where the DG seems to be somewhat more closely recorded; that is not to say the BIS is by any means distant. The balance on the BIS seems about perfect and there are places where the subtlety pays off. For example, in the last five or so minutes of the piece, there are tremendous percussion effects by cymbals, gongs, and bells. With their more distant placement down in the depths of the Lucerne orchestra, they create an especially eerie effect that is somehow more felt than heard. It plays right into Gubaidulina’s symbolism of dark vs. light. Gergiev here is more obvious, but nonetheless magnificent as well. The very ending of the concerto is telling. Gergiev builds the orchestral crescendo so that the light is almost blinding, but the following low brass and strings do not make the same impact as they do with Nott. Nott’s light may not be as blinding, but the low brass really growl and create a very unsettling experience before the violinist completes the work on the high, sustained note. Again that note is more intense with Mutter, but Gluzman with his purer tone is also convincing as he is throughout the concerto. I frankly would not want to be without either of these different interpretations of what is perhaps the greatest violin concerto this century has produced so far.

With that said, the primary interest of this CD must be the world première recording of Gubaidulina’s Glorious Percussion. I am familiar with a number of percussion concertos, including James MacMillan’s Veni, Veni Emmanuel, Toru Takemitsu’s From me flows what you call Time, and Joseph Schwantner’s Percussion Concerto. While all three of these possess their considerable merits, they did not prepare me for this extraordinary new work in the genre. As with the violin concerto, this percussion concerto requires a very large orchestra. In addition to the five percussion soloists placed at the front of the orchestra there is the usual contingent at the back; and the brass also plays a major role with the addition of four Wagner tubas interchanging with horns, two bass tubas, bass and tenor trombones, etc. Incidentally, Gubaidulina also employed Wagner tubas in the violin concerto. The work is thus distinguished by the percussion soloists who have seven sections in the work where they improvise in contrast to the more static nature of the rest of the orchestra. Again it’s unfortunate that the concerto receives a single track on the disc where it would have made a lot of sense to divide it into these sections. Glorious Percussion begins with the lower brass and percussion playing a chordal theme that lumbers like some behemoth in the depths of the orchestra. This theme recurs in key places in the work and at the end of it with the cymbals and tam-tam as they resonate, having the final say. Contrasting with the rather static nature of the orchestral part, the solo percussionists have a heyday with a huge variety of instruments, including all kinds and sizes of gongs, marimbas and xylophones, bells, woodblocks and rattles, four bass drums, and a whole variety of Asian folk instruments with such strange names as cabaza and darabuca. At one point in the piece the soloists go wild with their mallets on the marimbas and xylophones and later they do the same with the bass drums, creating quite a racket. While one can get a good appreciation of the concerto simply from listening to the fabulous performance on this recording, I think the visual element is of almost equal importance. Fortunately, you can “attend” a performance by the Berlin Philharmonic with Gustavo Dudamel and the Glorious Percussion soloists by visiting the Philharmonic’s website. There is a free preview of the concert - also including a blistering account of Shostakovich’s Twelfth Symphony - that will entice you to buy a ticket to the concert well worth the modest cost. Dudamel premiered the concerto with the Gothenburg Symphony in 2008 and this concert took place not long after that première. The percussion ensemble contributes a theatrical element — almost balletic at times — that adds a whole other dimension to the work. It really must be seen to be fully appreciated! The concerto in fact was co-commissioned by Anders Loguin, whose ensemble took their name from Gubaidulina’s composition, and four orchestras including the Lucerne Symphony. “Glorious” of the title of the work has its spiritual connotation as one would expect from any piece by Gubaidulina, and the concerto does connect with heaven and earth. If Mahler claimed to possess the whole world in his symphonies, Gubaidulina would seem to occupy the universe in this concerto. There is an interesting interview with her on the Berlin Philharmonic website accompanying the concert, where she talks about the concerto and her fascination with the different tones of the percussion and the whole complex of pulsating sounds in nature they depict. The interview is free of charge.

Except for the lack of multiple tracks and notes on the two works that could be more detailed, BIS has come up with a real winner here. It will likely rank high on my list of best recordings of 2012.

-- Leslie Wright, MusicWeb International

The original semantic value of re-ligio, therefore considered as a restoration of contacts, as a meeting point of distant but related cultures. Referring to the genesis of the work, the composer herself states: Reading these works has significant inner similarities: contemplation and sophistication. The lines from the work of IV Oganov - "the pain of a flower's test", "... The roar of the singing garden grew", "... The revelation of the rose... ", "... The lotus was set on fire by the music", "... The white garden began to resound again with diamond borders... " - encouraged me to a concrete sound perception of this garden. On the other hand, however, all this ecstatic flowering was expressed naturally in Tanzer's reflections on the world in it's entirety. At the basis of the musical rendering of this piece there is in fact the opposition of the bright and diaphanous timbre of the natural harmonics with the sad coloratura of the intervals of minor second and minor third.

Echoes of birds, water, and wind: on her refreshingly unconventional debut album with GENUIN, the young musician Sophia Schambeck presents flute compositions spanning nine centuries. New works stand alongside ancient ones, solo pieces are interwoven with ensemble music, Irish melodies contrast with Japanese ones, and original works are placed beside arrangements. Listeners are drawn into fascinating sonic worlds ranging from Hildegard von Bingen to the present day - performed on no fewer than thirteen different recorders. This acoustic universe, shaped by a musician devoted to connecting styles and cultures, fills us with wonder and deep emotion.