With 22 symphonies, 17 string quartets, 9 concertos, and 7 operas, the composer Mieczyslaw Weinberg left behind an extensive oeuvre. Musically, one can hear the composer's close friendship with Dmitri Shostakovich, although Weinberg's music is more lyrical and romantic in nature. Nevertheless, the composer was long forgotten and his music has only been rediscovered in the last ten years. Gidon Kremer has dedicated himself to the rediscovery and cultivation of Weinberg's music.

The 24 preludes for cello solo by Mieczyslaw Weinberg have a particular history. Composed in the late sixties for Mstislav Rostropovich, he never actually played them. Their musical language is aphoristic, often brutal, provocative in it's inner conflict. It contains many different gestures and is very intense. To perform these preludes might have been problematic in the Soviet Union back then. Gidon Kremer has adapted the Preludes for solo violin and this is the world premiere recording of his adaptation. In his concerts, Kremer often plays them to projections of works by the Lithuanian photographer Antanas Sutkus in the background. This album was recorded at Paliesiaus Dvaras in Lithuania in December 2017.

Mieczyslaw Weinberg composed his 24 solo cello Preludes in the late 1960s for Mstislav Rostropovich. The pieces are terse, aphoristic, and unpredictable, redolent of Shostakovich’s late-period chamber works, or the miniatures of Kurtag. Although Rostropovich never played the Preludes, something of this cellist’s exuberant spirit can be found in Josef Feigelson’s emotive, large-scale performance on Naxos. The same holds true for Gidon Kremer, who has transcribed the Preludes for violin.

Although one loses the the cello’s bass-to-treble-register tessitura, Kremer compensates by intensifying dynamic contrasts and articulations. As a result, the repeated phrases of Nos. 2 and 19 sound fascinatingly quirky and obsessive here, rather than merely playful. On the other hand, the violin arguably lends itself better to No. 7’s rapidly spinning figurations. On violin, the Sarabande (No. 18) takes on a stentorian character quite different from the cello’s warmer resonant overtones. The elegant concluding Menuet (No. 24) falls within the cello’s tenor and mezzo-soprano ranges in such a way that the long lines suggest a seamless conversation between two singers. By contrast, the music’s high-lying range on the violin conveys a completely different impression: ethereal, otherworldly.

I wouldn’t want to be without Feigelson’s standard-setting recording of Weinberg’s original cello versions, yet Kremer’s effective arrangements and fiercely focused interpretations deserve equal consideration. Allow these pieces to grow on you over time; they’re well worth your attention.

– ClassicsToday (Jed Distler)