Tuesday, May 31, 2016
The company they brought back from the dead is showing vital signs of life. Next season, its first since returning from bankruptcy, New York City Opera will stage six productions. They include a Harold Prince production of Bernstein’s Candide; a double bill of Rachmaninov’s esoteric Aleko with Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci; Respighi’s La Campana Sommersa (The Sunken Bell); and the New York premieres of Peter Eotvos’s Angels in America, based on the Tony Kushner play, and Tobin Stokes’ Iraq War saga, Fallujah. In addition, the company has commissioned a supermodel bio-opera, American Venus, from Tobias Picker for 2019. All this on a budget of $6.4 million. It’s fresh, it’s different, it’s not the Met. What’s not to like? A cautionary word: it was a supermodel opera, Anna Nicole, that sank City Opera last time round.
Pianist Evgeny Kissin , concluding thePerspectives series at Carnegie Hall’s 125th anniversary season – which also celebrated his illustrious pianistic solo debut here 25 years ago – wooed audiences once more with Rachmaninoff’s beloved Piano Concerto No. 2, before taking a previously announced leave of absence from concertizing in the USA. The concert amounted to a farewell observation on the series’ narrative, revealing the artist’s uniquely personal artistic journey. Capture by Simone Massoni This article was published by the author on Blogcritics Magazine Since that memorable Carnegie Hall debut, with people waving hundred-dollar bills to scalp a ticket on mobbed street blocks around the sold-out concert hall, New Yorkers’ enthusiasm for Kissin does not seem to have diminished in the least. Coming out of the Soviet Union as a prodigal talent with staggering musicality, his reputation had preceded his eagerly awaited appearances before both Russian and world audiences; and perhaps like no other, this pure Romantic has united them in an ecstatic communal sense. It was Carnegie Hall’s centennial season, 1990-91, and Kissin, age 19, was – as in the current season – the notable opening act, one of the very few artists who had never had to ask, “How do you get to Carnegie Hall?” He simply arrived, and performed annually from then on. “What makes a performance great?” I once asked him, and he simply remarked: “It has to be convincing.” Carnegie Hall initiated its Perspectives series in 1999 to further explore the complexity of what makes an artist great by showcasing leading artists’ individual interests and bringing in their musical friends. The previous pianist the series focused on was Sir Andràs Schiff in 2011-12. This season’s in-depth close-up opened channels of discovery into Kissin’s enigmatic persona and vocation on stage, in five different programs. Beyond bringing some of the musical milestones of Kissin’s career full circle, the series portrayed the artist who at 44, unabashed by the persistent trail of Wunderkind status, has proven he can carve out new paths of artistic growth and a remarkable personal departure. His choices of programs are always “a matter of love,” and it is the kind of intimate, sanctified love that does not warrant further conversation. Notwithstanding his free spirit he feels: “Talking about all kind of things including sex, is great fun – talking about music seems vulgar.” Knowing how close to his heart his programs are – he usually spends a full touring season with each one – one had to wonder why Chopin, with whose concertos the pianist skyrocketed to stardom and who, as Kissin confesses when pressed on the subject, is the closest to his heart, would not appear in any of his featured programs. Bookending the series with two of the arch-romantic Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninoff concerts, Kissin instead curated his classical solo recitals with works by Mozart, Beethoven, and Brahms in conjunction with the Spanish composers Albéniz and Larregla. Highlighting his extraordinary temperament en galore with the Spanish rhythmic idiom added a most welcome geographic twist to the Germanic precursors. The recital program, which was performed twice that same week in November, was legendary not only because his “Appassionata” was nothing short of a revelation, but because a repeat performance of the same repertoire, selling out the house twice in a row, had till then been a feat achieved only by Vladimir Horowitz, in 1979. No one present at Kissin’s concerts, least of all the performer himself, would suspect that concert halls are scrambling to fill their seats at many other quality concerts. Least of all at the truly stirring season’s opening concert, with red carpets rolled out for the occasion all across 57th street. Opening of Carnegie Hall’s 125th season. Photo: Ilona Oltuski If Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No. 1 with the New York Philharmonic and its departing director Alan Gilbert was meant to be associated with one of Kissin’s own, most triumphant historic performances of the same concerto in 1987, given with Herbert von Karajan and the Berlin Philharmonic when the pianist was just 16, Kissin certainly stood the test of time. While one can’t say if Gilbert was as touched by Kissin’s brilliance as was Karajan, who, according to Karajan’s wife was moved to tears by the genial talent of his chosen young performer, their engagement certainly carried its own merit of excellence, making it also one of Gilbert’s rather gallant collaborations to remember. On the day following his evening of Yiddish music and poetry, Carnegie’s Executive and Artistic Director Clive Gillinson moderated – at the associates’ level ticket price – a public tête-à-tête on stage, where Kissin appeared relaxed and personable. He humored the audience with anecdotes about Prokofiev and his first meeting with Karajan, as well as his strong-mindedness when it comes to conductors who don’t share his vision. He also recalled some of his earlier years, when his revered only mentor through all these years, Anna Kantor, moved in with the Kissins, following them on their path from Moscow to New York to London. Turning 93 now, Kantor stays a vibrant member of Kissin’s family, and hers continue to be the ears he trusts the most; until recently she was an integral part of his concert touring entourage and it speaks for their deeply reverent relationship that the pianist continues to play new repertoire through for her. Evgeny Kissin with Anna Kantor. Photo: Ilona Oltuski A first was Kissin’s public opening up about becoming inspired and re-inventing himself: “As we live and develop we discover new things in ourselves, of which we were not aware earlier,” he says. “A few years ago, I would have never been able to imagine that I would be writing my own poetry in Yiddish and have it published…I have always hoped and continue to hope that I will always keep improving.” Almost no trace remains of the admitted former “painfully shy” mannerisms of his younger years. No matter how long the line of beleaguering fans may be, he happily obliges with oddly composed courtesy and at times touching generosity. Evgeny Kissin swarmed by his fans at Carnegie Hall after Rachmaninoff concerto performance. Photo: Ilona Oltuski Perhaps the least successful program of the series was Kissin’s much anticipated novel partnership with violinist Itzhak Perlman in a trio performance with Kissin’s longtime collaborator, cellist Misha Maisky. It was almost surprising that the performance lacked a persuasive harmonious flow of leadership and balance, given the great musicianship of all these artists individually. Perlman’s melodic lines especially seemed to get lost at times acoustically, flanked by Maisky’s and Kissin’s powerful virtuosity. In contrast, Kissin’s Yiddish evening was in some ways the most significant program of the series. Kissin’s passion project of Yiddish poetry recitation and music by rarely performed Jewish composers illuminated the deeply personal context of his engagement with Jewish culture. The fascinating presentation touched audiences on many levels, highlighting Kissin’s capacity and courage to explore new artistic frontiers. This was the case with works by Ernest Bloch, Alexander Veprik, Alexander Klein, and Mikhail Milner, with which Kissin ventured into modernist and folklore-inspired tunes off the beaten path. Carnegie Hall Green Room moment: the author with Mischa Maisky and Evgeny Kissin after their collaborative concert With his nuanced and melodic declamation of poems in the Yiddish idiom of Yitzhak-Leybush Peretz, Kissin captured the lyrical elements and aura of the language with its particular humor and spirit, transporting the transfixed audience into the bygone era of the shtetl. Soulfully baring his heart in every syllable, the magnetic performer – stripped of all his virtuoso veneer – sufficed to fill the hall, momentarily halting time. As in Kissin’s own poem, the evening’s credo points to celebrating our intrinsic individualism, which, if painful to bear at times, brings fulfillment through truth to ourselves. Ani maymin Credo Translation by Barrnett Zumoff Shoyn Terekh hot gezogt zayn kleynem zun mit shrek: After Terah* said fearfully to his young son: “Far vos bist nit aza, vi ale?”. “Why are you not like all the others?” Un s’iz geven azoy in yedn kant un ek, into which our brutal fate cast us.and it was so vuhin di dolye undzere brutale in every nook and cranny flegt undz nit varfn. S’iz dokh undzer koved, It’s to our honor, after all, vos tomid zaynen mir geven getray tsu zikh that we have always been faithful to ourselves, un hobm ot di khokhme oysgekovet: and have forged this wise saying: “Ven ikh vel zayn vi yener, ver vet zayn vi ikh?”. “If I am like the others, who will be like me?” *Abraham’s father This bent of Kissin’s talent was earlier introduced on a smaller scale at New York’s Yivo Institute and at his momentous debut at Charles and Robyn Krauthammer’s Pro Musica Hebraica series, at Washington’s Kennedy Center in 2014; but it was a first at Carnegie Hall, drawing New Yorkers into Kissin’s other personal passion. (See my article about Evgeny Kissin on a mission to celebrate his Jewish heritage. ) Evgeny Kissin at Pro Musica Hebraica. Photo: Ilona Oltuski For the very first time in 2002, during Verbier’s prestigious festival in the Suisse Alps, the festival’s director Martin Engstroem encouraged Kissin to recite Russian and Yiddish poetry as an extracurricular presentation on stage. Kissin agreed, but only if other artists would participate as well. The ones who had confirmed, among them Zubin Mehta, had to pull out at the last minute leaving Kissin “to wet his feet,” as he recalled. What a happy coincidence it turned out to be, bringing his previously private predilection into the spotlight. For Kissin, the Yiddish language represents an important cultural territory of the Jewish people. On a personal level it became a reminiscence of his childhood, and peaceful summer months spent at his Yiddish-speaking maternal grandparents’ datshka. During his childhood, Kissin was made aware of anti-Semitic sentiments. Aggressive slurs were not unusual. Thugs in the neighborhood would call out to him: “Why don’t you go to Birobidzhan?” – the Russian territory with an official Jewish status, which became a center of Jewish culture at the time it was founded under Stalin, in 1934. Evgeny Kissin with Martin Engstroem in Verbier. Photo: Ilona Oltuski Kissin’s interest in his native Russian poetry and literature were closely followed by his interest in Yiddish culture and its language, which he had initially taught himself. Even though he grew up completely assimilated into Soviet society, he felt a strong connection to his ethnic heritage and always had a special place in his heart for Israel. After being in the public eye for a long time, he deployed his voice not only for numerous humanitarian causes, but also to protest a growing anti-Israel sentiment he observed living in London and Paris. In December 2009, his open letter to the BBC in protest of its perceived biased reporting made headlines. In 2010 he explained to me why he had spoken out: “I just felt that it was no longer possible to remain silent and not protest….my motivation came from the dramatic increase of anti-Israel slander.” (See my article, “The Artist as Citizen .”) His fan-website features a broad selection of sources in support of Israel. When we met at his first solo concert in Jerusalem the following year during his commanding Liszt tour, he was engulfed in the topic. (In 1988 he went on his very first trip to Israel with the Moscow Virtuosi Orchestra.) Performing in Jerusalem meant the world to him and he matched his sentiment with a dramatic biblical stance: “Im Eshkachech Yerushalayim Tishkach Yimini (If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand be forgotten).” Despite not living in the Promised Land himself, he initiated action to fully demonstrate his allegiance: in December of 2013 Kissin took on Israeli citizenship. His evolving sense of Jewish identity certainly plays a decisive role in his creative discoveries within its history, language and music and beyond that in Israel’s modern-day crisis. During one summer at the Verbier festival, Anna Kantor, concerned about this (to her mind) superfluous extracurricular activity, turned to me, remarking: “Ah politics, who needs politics…he should sit and play the piano.” I am certain the sentiment is shared by many, who would prefer an artist being removed from anything that could view the man and citizen behind the artist. Alas, despite his performance schedule of about 40 concerts a year worldwide, Kissin’s creativity obviously requires many different stimulating outlets, certainly feeding his extraordinary imagination at the piano. Just some days after his Yiddish recital, we met over tea and he brought the newest chapter of his novel. In his steadfast timbre, Kissin read it out loud in one sitting. He did not touch his tea. He was excited to share his modern-day drama depicting an opera-inspired Russian heroine’s suffering with deep sentiment, in a pictorial and captivating style. Here is an excerpt: From the novel by Evgeny Kissin, translated by Barrnett Zumoff Book 1: Outside It Was Snowing The smoke from the cigarette was beginning to mix with the emanations from the Indian aromatic sticks. There was no ashtray in the house, so the cigarette ash fell on the floor immediately after each light tap of her finger. She kept slowly and deeply inhaling the smoke, filling her entire body with the mild poison; oh well – the deed is already done, so relax and calm down. Three thoughts kept drilling into her mind: “Sasha, my darling”…”I’ll get the money as fast as I can!” …and “Now I‘ve really become a whore – I’ve lived to see the day!” “Man proposes and God disposes,” her wise grandmother Chana used to say. Her grandmother’s words had sounded convincing to her even then, though she was still a child and of course couldn’t understand what they meant. Now, in the past few days, she somehow understood them with her whole being, from the tips of her fingers to the depths of her soul, perhaps as never before in her life. When she was still a young girl and had just begun to discover the world of pleasure, she used to fantasize about taking money for love. For instance, a nice man she liked would come to her and propose to spend time with her, and she would answer him playfully: “If you pay!” Now, however, she didn’t get to choose only nice clients… Five months did go by after the Russian heroine of his novel appeared, and reverberations of sentiments stirred by Kissin’s Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2 slowly filtered through the hall. Nothing less had been expected from a moving farewell concert by Kissin, with the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra. For this final concert of the series, Kissin reunited with his longtime friend, colleague and frequent collaborator James Levine, who, as the Met’s leading force for 45 years, has just announced his final bow as music director. Photo: NPR.org, Maestro James Levine The eminent conductor, winner of 10 Grammy awards, entered in his wheelchair, elevated by a special mechanism onto a towering conductor’s podium. Kissin – and Levine – fans had witnessed this somewhat involved process in the hall already in 2013 when the artists collaborated on Beethoven’s Fourth Piano Concerto, when Levine, returning to the concert stage after injury and two years of absence, was greeted with a standing ovation. Kissin has played the world over with an extraordinary number of first-rate conductors, but Maestro Levine, the pianist once told me, is among those he really loves the most. For several years, Kissin and Levine were both at home in New York. Together they recorded Beethoven’s Second and Fifth Concertos in 1997. As a special highlight their all-Schubert piano duo program, recorded live at Carnegie Hall in 2005, speaks volumes of their alliance in temperament and artistic perception. It is also among Levine’s most favorite recordings, he told Kissin (even though for acoustic reasons and perhaps also to facilitate unrestrained physical motions, the music intended for one piano four hands was performed on two separate grand pianos). While Kissin’s beautiful singing lines where at times marred just slightly by the piano’s dry acoustics, the strong personal connection was palpable in their take on Rachmaninoff, on a beautiful night in May for Kissin’s last concert of the series. Familiar with Kissin’s 1989 recording of the concerto with Valery Gergiev and the London Symphony Orchestra, I had never before heard this all-time favorite concerto played live by Kissin. Rachmaninoff himself gave the premiere of the work composed in 1901, which established his fame and marked the end of a severe depression he had suffered. While Gergiev’s recording is certainly notable, already the entrance, just so slightly off, speaks of a much less deeply rooted musical bond than that between Kissin and Levine. In the recording Gergiev paints – at times more daringly – with a bigger brush, but Levine is a master at bringing out all the hidden nuances. If his Spanish repertoire already was full of vitality and rejoicing in the intricacy of mischievous rhythmic skill, in Rachmaninoff the drama got taken further. But despite the constant shifts between tender palettes and multiple climaxes there was nothing mise-en-scene, only a profound myriad of fine-tuned dexterity. If Carnegie Hall’s Perspective series set out to convey different angles of the performer’s aptitude with multiple genres and composers’ objectives, we witnessed it all. The blissful melancholy projected in this last Russian gem was matched only by his intimate poetry recitation, with a bared soulfulness that brought one closer into the world of this artist, and perhaps with one’s own humanity. With unrelenting inquisitiveness and willingness to challenge the status quo, Kissin does not rest on his laurels, which indicates there is much more to come; and how happy he looks. New York will feel the absence of this remarkable individual whose innermost workings can be found in his art. In the meantime, I am sure all his fans will join me in wishing him bon voyage as he spreads his artistic inspiration abroad.
ClassicalMusicNews.ru reports the death of Sviatoslav Luther, former principal conductor of the State Symphony of St Petersburg. There are conflicting reports as to the cause of death. A note said: ‘For my death I wish no-one to be blamed.’ He leaves a young daughter, who was with her mother at the time. A member of a well-known musical family, Luther studied with Ilya Musin, was an assistant to Valery Gergiev and founded a training orchestra for students. He was artistic director of St.Petersburg’s Rachmaninov Society. Eternal rest.
About twenty years ago the Novosibirsk Ballet came here and presented great performances of Khachaturian´s "Spartacus" with the young Maximiliano Guerra, in the apogee of his career. It served notice that gelid Siberia was alive and well. Now we got the first visit of an orchestra from those immense expanses: the State Symphony Orchestra of Siberia, which comes from Krasnoyarsk, a city of over one million people 51 hours away from Moscow by the Trans-Siberian Railway. Nuova Harmonia in its 30th season presented it at the refurbished Coliseo on April 22 starting its subscription series. As we know little about that region, it´s useful to give some data. Krasnoyarsk means "Red Ravine". It was founded in 1628; in the Nineteenth Century it was the center of the Cossack movement; in the early years of the Twentieth Century Chekhov praised it as one of the most beautiful Russian cities. Alas, during Stalinism several gulags functioned there. After the "perestroika" there was a deal of corruption but in recent decades the city recovered and is now prosperous. It is, after Novosibirsk and Omsk, the biggest Siberian city. They have two rivers, quite a privilege: the great Yenisei and the Kacha (which runs through the very center). Although the latitude is practically that of Stockholm, Krasnoyarsk is an extreme example of continental climate: terribly cold in Winter (-40 sometimes), but in Summer the temperature can rise to 35 degrees. Big industries, several universities, plenty of sports, but also museums and two musical highlights: the State Opera and Ballet Theatre is larger than Moscow´s Bolshoi! And this year it offers from September to late April 16 operas; currently Cherubini´s "Medea" can be seen. And the Great Concert Hall (Krasnoyarskaya Kraevaya Filarmoniya), the home of the orchestra I am reviewing. The famous baritone Dimitri Hvorostovsky was born in this city. The State Symphony of Siberia was founded in 1977. At least as it came here, it isn´t one of the biggest orchestras, as it numbers 73 players; and, what is a rarity, the majority are women. Vladimir Lande has conducted here before in two seasons with other orchestras; in 2011 he came with the Saint Petersburg Symphony; he is nowadays since last year the Principal Conductor of the Siberian orchestra. He has recorded a lot, very specially a cycle of 17 CDs with the integral symphonic music by a composer much appreciated by Shostakovich, Mieczyslaw Vainberg. In previous visits I found Lande a serious professional, though not an inspired interpreter. This time I appreciated in the purely symphonic pieces a very firm hand. The Orchestra is identifiably Russian in its collective sound: the strings are brilliant in the case of the violins and soulful in the cellos; the horns are rather woolly, the trumpets bright, the trombones quite brash; the woodwinds competent and a bit retiring, except the tweety piccolo. The programming was all-Russian, which is fine, but too surefire: all three scores are admirable and justifiably famous, leading all three to thunderous appaluse if well played. However, a little more enterprise would have been welcomed, even with the same composers: from Glinka, instead of the dazzling Overture to his opera "Ruslan and Ludmilla", "Kamarinskaya", a catchy and dynamic short tone poem. From, Rachmaninov, not the Second Concerto but the Fourth, unfairly neglected; and from Rimsky-Korsakov, "Scheherazade" is wonderful, of course, but the Second Symphony, "Antar", is also a masterpiece and much less heard. "Ruslan and Ludmilla" was played at a really fast clip, reminding me of the famous Mravinsky version. At this speed, you must have excellent players able to respond with unanimity from the very first note: these certainly are, and Lande kept them together. By the way, will the Colón ever repair the shame of never having staged Glinka´s two operas? (the other is "A Life for the Czar"). Xiayin Wang (debut) is a young Chinese who studied at the Shanghai Conservatory and the Manhattan School of Music. She is of course technically proficient, as so many pianists are nowadays, but on this showing her interpretation lacks maturity of concept. The initial minutes of Rachmaninov´s Nº2 sounded unsettled, rather confused, and the blending with the orchestra was dicey (there´s blame from the conductor, too). But things grew gradually better; the slow movement had lovely moments, and the virtuosic Finale was much more fluid, so the final result was good. The encore was a light Chinese ditty. I was much impressed by most of "Schéhérazade", for here Lande showed his mettle: he understood that the gist of the matter is the contrast between the sinuous, sweet concertino lines (Scheherazade) and the violent, even brutal theme of the Sultan. The episodes of the four tales are interspersed with these co-protagonists. The marvelous orchestration was expressed with intensity, color and strong dynamics. There wasn´t a boring moment in the 40 minutes, and the wreck of Sindbad´s boat near the end was overwhelming. The concertino is a talented veteran of very pure sound. The encores were very enjoyable, for they were samples of Shostakovich´s inimitable acid humour: the Tango from the ballet "The Bolt", and a vivid piece from his operetta "Moskva, Cherymushki". Here both conductor and orchestra communicated enjoyment with perfect ensemble and the right tongue-in-cheek attitude. They are probably satisfying as a team for the composer´s symphonies. So, warm welcome to the Siberians! For Buenos Aires Herald
Liam Scarlett in rehearsal for The Age of Anxiety ©ROH. Bill Cooper 2014. Frankenstein is Liam Scarlett ’s first full-length piece for The Royal Ballet on the Covent Garden main stage, but in recent years his one-act works have made him a familiar presence at the Royal Opera House – and indeed further afield. Here are a few highlights from his prolific career to date: Viscera Inspired by the raw energy of Lowell Liebermann ’s First Piano Concerto, Scarlett created Viscera for Miami City Ballet in 2012. It has since been performed by The Royal Ballet twice, in 2012 and 2015. ‘There’s no taking it easy in this ballet’, Scarlett says: the outer movements are a whirlwind of energy, and the searing pas de deux which comprises the central movement simmers with intensity. Sweet Violets Scarlett’s first narrative ballet, created for The Royal Ballet in 2012, explores the artist Walter Sickert’s sordid fascination with Jack the Ripper . Sweet Violets is a dark, brooding ballet incorporating John Macfarlane ’s atmospheric sets of murky London brothels and backstreets, and Rachmaninoff ’s haunting Trio élégiaque as its score. A Midsummer Night’s Dream Shakespeare’s plays have long provided brilliant fodder for choreographers, from Christopher Wheeldon ’s The Winter’s Tale to Frederick Ashton ’s The Dream – and Scarlett turned to the same play that had enchanted Ashton half a century earlier for his 2015 work for Royal New Zealand Ballet and Queensland Ballet . To Mendelssohn ’s famous music, Scarlett conjured a funny, touching ballet which, the New Zealand Herald wrote, ‘may well become a classic telling’. The Age of Anxiety W.H. Auden ’s poem The Age of Anxiety is set in New York in 1944, following four figures trying to make sense of the modern world. Leonard Bernstein ’s Second Symphony, also a response to Auden’s poem, is the score to which Scarlett sets this 2014 Royal Ballet commission. Inflected with jazz and a sombre, bittersweet edge, the music and dance combine with Auden’s poem to form a fascinating trio. No Man’s Land Like Sweet Violets, Scarlett’s 2014 creation for English National Ballet draws on early 20th century British history – but here we are drawn into the Britain of World War I, and the women left behind by the newly drafted soldiers. The ballet combines a re-creation of a munitions factory staffed by these women with the men’s fate in the trenches, as well as a series of emotional pas de deux of love and loss. Watch more films like these on the Royal Opera House YouTube channel: Frankenstein runs 4-27 May 2016. Tickets are still available . The ballet is a co-production with San Francisco Ballet and is generously supported by the Taylor Family Foundation, Sarah and Lloyd Dorfman, Simon and Virginia Robertson, Will and Beth Gardiner, Karl and Holly Peterson, The Shauna Gosling Trust, The Constance Travis Charitable Trust, The American Friends of Covent Garden, the Frankenstein Production Syndicate, Bently Foundation, The Hellman Family and E. L. Wiegand Foundation.
Middle Temple Hall, London The Cardiff Singer of the World moved fluently between Liszt, Berg, Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninov in a confident London recital debutLast June Nadine Koutcher took the 2015 Cardiff Singer of the World title by storm. Now, nearly a year on, the Temple Music Foundation pulled off the notable coup of presenting her London recital debut in Middle Temple Hall, with its artistic director Julius Drake as her considerable accompanist. Related: BBC Cardiff Singer of the World review – exceptional technique and instinctive musicality shine through in a strong final Continue reading...
Sergei Rachmaninoff (1 April 1873 28 March 1943) was a Russian composer, pianist, and conductor. Rachmaninoff is widely considered one of the finest pianists of his day and, as a composer, one of the last great representatives of Romanticism in Russian classical music. Early influences of Tchaikovsky, Rimsky-Korsakov, and other Russian composers gave way to a thoroughly personal idiom that included a pronounced lyricism, expressive breadth, structural ingenuity, and a tonal palette of rich, distinctive orchestral colors. The piano is featured prominently in Rachmaninoff's compositional output. He made a point of using his own skills as a performer to explore fully the expressive possibilities of the instrument. Even in his earliest works he revealed a sure grasp of idiomatic piano writing and a striking gift for melody.
Great composers of classical music