Teacher of Rachmaninov and Scriabin, Anton Arensky (1861-1906) divided his life between metropolitan St Petersburg and provincial Moscow – during the second half of the 19th century, as Stephen Coombs points out in his excellent notes, ‘a city of sharp contrasts, fiercely religious, noisy and mournful… [of] sober days… followed by riotous nights’. A contemporary recalled him as ‘mobile, nervous, with a wry smile on his clever, half-Tartar face, always joking or snarling. All feared his laughter and adored his talent.’ Rosina Lhevinne remembered him being ‘shy and rather weak’. Tchaikovsky, like Prokofiev and Stravinsky, had time for his art, but Rimsky (whose pupil he’d been) thought he would be ‘soon forgotten’. Maybe Arensky, drunkard and gambler, was no genius, and he was demonstrably lost among the elevated peaks of Brahmsian sonata tradition. But that he could turn a perfumed miniature more lyrically beautiful than most, more occasionally profound too, is repeatedly borne out in the 27 vignettes of this delicate anthology (Opp. 25, 41, 43 and 53 in full and excerpts from Opp. 36 and 52 ).

The seventh album by Lucas and Arthur Jussen at Deutsche Grammophon presents music for two pianos by Rachmaninov, Stravinsky, Shostakovich and Arensky. 'It's like driving a few BMWs', remarked conductor Michael Schønwandt after conducting Dutch brothers Lucas (26) and Arthur Jussen (22). Despite their young age, they have been part of the international concert world for years and are praised by both the press and the public. Not only did their albums have received platinum and gold status, they won several Edison Klassiesek Audience Awards, among others. With the album, the long-planned project to record an album with a beautiful, powerful and technically demanding Russian repertoire is now coming true.

The practice of performing music on original instruments was once the exclusive domain of early music specialists who sought to revive the characteristic sounds of Renaissance, Baroque, and Classical instruments and ensembles scaled to proper size. The so-called "historically informed movement" eventually expanded into re-creating 19th century music, which yielded some ear-opening performances; but this practice soon began to overlap with modern interpretation and instrumentation, so the actual differences between period and modern strings or winds were minimal.

Here's a bit of intrigue. The failure of Rachmaninov's First Symphony at its premiere in 1897 is habitually blamed on Glazunov's ineptitude as a conductor. But, by 1907 Rachmaninov had written his Second Symphony, whose instant and continuing success can be attributed to a pervasive melody of enormous emotional power. Why, then, did Glazunov incorporate a motif of striking similarity in the first movement of his 1911 Piano Concerto? Glazunov's tune is paler, less keenly felt, than Rachmaninov's, but is this a homage, an apology, or merely a coincidence? I found it so perplexing that the wistful variations in the second and final movement of the concerto passed by almost unnoticed. But there's not a lot to miss. While some of the harmonies have a smudgy, Broadway sensuality, the easy lyricism is frequently banal.

This disc juxtaposes two significant Russian works for violin and orchestra, each written by a composer with a close relationship to Tchaikovsky, and each dedicated to the great violinist and pedagogue Leopold Auer. These two concertos are both formidable display pieces, designed to show off Auer’s transcendental technique. Ilya Gringolts, acclaimed as one of the great young violin virtuosos of today and lauded for his debut recording on Hyperion, dazzles in this repertoire, ably supported by the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra under Ilan Volkov.

In BIS' Chinoiserie, pianist Jenny Lin brings one of the most compelling and relevant themed recitals to be heard on disc in years, a collection of pieces by Western composers that attempts to explore the subject of China in some regard, not only musically but culturally.

Though a pupil of the great orchestrator Rimsky-Korsakov, and in turn a teacher to the likes of Rachmaninov, Glière, and Scriabin, Anton Arensky himself is a composer often forgotten when contemplating the Russian greats. Productive in many genres, it is perhaps in his chamber music that this unduly neglected composer truly shines. His writing has much of the same textural sophistication and melodic beauty as his close friend, Tchaikovsky. In fact, the theme on which the Second Quartet's Variations are based is drawn from a Tchaikovsky quartet. Performing Arensky's First and Second string quartets, along with the Piano Quintet, is the Ying Quartet. This ensemble's playing is characterized by a surprisingly precise, consistent uniformity of sound and exactness of articulation, making it seem as if a single instrument were playing as opposed to four independent parts. All aspects of their technical execution are polished and refined, which only enhances their equally enjoyable musical effusiveness, rich, deep tone, and understanding of Arensky's scores that casts them in the best possible light.

Anton Stepanovich Arensky and Sergei Eduardovich Bortkiewicz are hardly household names. Arensky’s delicious Piano Trio in D minor continues to keep its place on the fringes of the chamber repertoire, and the Waltz movement from his Suite for two pianos receives an occasional outing; otherwise nothing. Who has even heard of Bortkiewicz other than aficionados of the piano’s dustier repertoire?

'There is plenty to delight ear here, in the delicate dances and variations of the Suite No. 3, in the dramatic vigour of the introduction to the opera Nal and Damayanti, and in the charming little Intermezzo.' (The Telegraph)

Polyansky continues to record some great off the beaten track repertoire for Chandos with this latest version of Arensky's First Symphony. The disc also includes a number of rarities that are making it onto disc as first recordings.
I don't recall that Svetlanov's thrilling Melodiya version of this work was ever issued on CD so I believe this has the field to itself, at least for the moment. Polyansky directs with a firm hand and his knowledge of the score is palpably evident in the beautiful First movement with its quirky 'Allegro patetico' tempo.