Pavel Kolesniknov & Samson Tsoy: Notes on the Program
“a prosperous voyage of friendship”
Given that a Pew Research survey in 2024 indicated that 70% of Americans don’t make New Year’s resolutions, we can safely surmise that you’re here today because you truly love the piano, not because you resolved to attend more live music in 2026. (If that’s your resolution, we’re overjoyed that you’re here, though, and hope you don’t become one of the 80% who fail to stick to their plans!) Interestingly, for the 30% of people who do make resolutions, after the obvious culprits of losing weight, exercising more and drinking less, the most common New Year’s resolutions include learning a new skill, reducing stress and spending more time with loved ones. Believe it or not: For all three of those, you’ve come to the right place today, intentionally or not!
Kolesnikov and Tsoy’s splendid program, so early in the new year, offers us something more substantial than celebratory confetti, fireworks and bubbles (although there’s a lot of all the fun stuff too!). Between the two of them and the particular repertory they chose, there exists an auditory current of sorts that connects us to the bonds between people before us and sweeps us along on a prosperous voyage of friendship. Yes, as duet partners and life partners, the companionship between this duo is obvious. But in the music, too, there exists a deep undercurrent of community and the value of collaboration. The mere fact that Schubert wrote almost as much music for four hands as for solo piano proves how integral social playing was to his existence. Rachmaninoff, too, despite his outward austerity, nurtured many intimate friendships that inspired and enabled great music-making. Among his dearest friends was Vladimir Horowitz, with whom he first performed the Symphonic Dances in 1942.
How does that get us to the three resolutions mentioned earlier? By inspiring you to listen more closely (a valuable skill!), drawing you into a panorama of sound that will undoubtedly reduce stress, and including you in an embrace of friendship ––between two musicians on stage, two composers still echoing into the present and a hall filled with piano lovers just like you!
FRANZ SCHUBERT
Allegro in A, “Lebensstürme”, D. 947
Friendship was as essential to Schubert’s development as a composer as church duties were to Bach’s. Starting as a boy chorister in Vienna at only eleven years old, the concept of shared music-making was part of Schubert’s lifeblood, eventually leading to his famous “Schubertiades”: evenings of music, literature, and merriment that would become almost synonymous with Romantic era social gatherings. Among his friends counted lawyers, doctors, poets and painters, many of whom were also skilled amateur musicians. Although some of the attendees at the Schubertiades would have been mere acquaintances, the “A-list” were true dedicatees who would eventually go on to promote his music after his death. Among these figures were Antonio Diabelli, who published the Allegro in A in 1840 (12 years after its composition in May 1828, just months before Schubert’s death) under the title “Lebensstürme” or Storms of Life.
It's a catchy and dramatic title, for sure, and it does encapsulate something of the opposing forces of turbulence and serenity that characterize this piece. It could also be argued, though, that it belittles the brilliant depth of what is also an imposing sonata-allegro movement. Within the outline of exposition (first theme, second theme) – development – recapitulation, Schubert masterfully conjures drama, tension, surprise and relief, often not using sound, but abrupt silence to startling effect.
Rondo in D Major, D. 608
“Notre amitié est invariable” or Our friendship is constant reads the subtitle to Schubert’s Rondo in D Major – an epithet added by Diabelli, once again, after Schubert’s death. Whether this was a sentimental addition to boost sales, or the wistful lament from a sincere friend missing his companion, there is certainly a high level of physical closeness in this piece, with the two parts constantly moving towards each other, and, towards the end of the piece, a frequent crossing of hands.
Following on the drama of “Lebensstürme” – maybe pointing us to the through-thick-and-thin, not-always-upbeat aspects of friendship, this lively, charming piece makes audible the joy and frivolity of effortlessly fooling around with a like-minded human being! Composed in January of 1818, the work stems from a happy time in Schubert’s life. He had moved into the home of his lifelong friend Franz von Schober, where he had access to a piano and began to produce fine piano sonatas, his four violin sonatas, and a continuing number of songs. Access to the piano (remember: he never owned one!) and the more or less constant presence of friends and acquaintances must have given ample opportunity for duet-playing. The single theme, played in the higher part, repeats many times and is echoed at the other end of the keyboard. As with much of Schubert’s music, particularly the earlier works, the Rondo in D Major is deceptively simple on the surface but underpinned by richly melodic lines and creative harmonic and rhythmic turns at its core. Much like a constant, lasting friendship.
Fantasie in F Minor, D. 940
“Fantasy is the sort of name you give to something when the standard formats do not fit – you cannot call it symphony for piano; you cannot really call it a sonata for piano. It is in a single stretch, but it in fact has inside itself all the components of a symphony.” Christopher Hogwood, CBE.
It’s helpful to think “symphony for piano” when listening to this Fantasie, the crowning jewel of Schubert’s piano duet output (or, to some ears, even his output as a whole). That he composed this breathtaking work in the last year of his life, the same year as the C Major cello quintet, G Major string quartet, the song cycle “Winterreise,” and his 9th symphony – each one a certifiable masterpiece! – defies logic!
The pensive, introspective opening can be described as the textbook example of “Sehnsucht” – that quintessentially Romantic German concept that inadequately translates as yearning, longing and/or melancholic desire. Were we only to hear the opening bars, it would be easy to dismiss the Fantasie as a navel-gazing meditation on sadness. And yet, it’s anything but. To borrow from a brilliant summary by David Yang (Executive Director of the Newburyport Chamber Music Festival), “there is an enormous range of emotion in the music that follows, including a stern and majestic section of trills, followed by a dreamy melody full of regret, a fleet middle part with a playful section marked ‘con delicatezza’, and finally a fugue that starts in a slow boil, expanding massively until the entire edifice collapses upon itself with a shocking pivot to the opening melody one final time.”
In terms of what it does for duet form (let’s not forget that it’s written for four hands at one keyboard), the Fantasie in F is a departure from “entertaining” music for mere social enjoyment. Its a substantially virtuosic work demanding a high level of dexterity from both primo and secondo players. Dedicated to Karoline Esterházy, a former student of Schubert’s and the object of his unrequited love, we can only speculate about the (proprietary) closeness of sharing a bench and a score that the composer himself must have been longing for!
SERGEI RACHMANINOV
Symphonic Dances, op. 45
“A composer’s music should express the country of his birth, his love affairs, his religion, the books which have influence him, and the pictures he loves … My music is the product of my temperament …” Sergei Rachmaninoff
If you’ve ever been curious about how Rachmaninoff himself sounded outside the controlled environment of a recording studio, we have good news for you. Although the composer did not generally allow live recordings of his own work, a rare recording of him playing his Symphonic Dances to the conductor Eugene Ormandy was discovered in 2018. Here the great Rachmaninoff can be heard singing over some of the phrases, enthusiastically expressing how he wants the music to be performed. Marston Records sells the full recording as a remastered 3-CD set – but there’s also a fabulous clip on YouTube that could change everything you think you know about the “six-foot-scowl” pianist / composer / conductor. In the presence of his friend Ormandy (the recipient of the performing rights and the dedicatee of the Symphonic Dances, quite possibly also indirectly responsible for their existence), Rachmaninoff is relaxed and enthused, caressing his dances – from an orchestral score, in this case – with jaw-dropping ease and fluidity.
What this historic clip tells me, and probably all the pianists who have undertaken playing the Symphonic Dances over the past few years (according to Bachtrack, the worlds largest website for streaming live classical music, this work was the most performed concert work in 2023), is that the social pendulum is always swinging – and that while, during his lifetime, Rachmaninoff may have been scorned as “too old-fashioned”, we can recognize in his music, today, the sound of the 2020’s: nostalgia for a distant past. Yearning for an idealized homeland that no longer exists. Resolve to dance, regardless.
The origins of the Symphonic Dances – both in its orchestral and piano duo form – is indicative of yet another journey of friendship and collaboration. Composed in the summer and fall of 1940 at his Long Island summer house in Huntington, New York, Rachmaninoff’s original impetus for the work was an intended project with the Russian choreographer, Michel Fokine, who had worked with Stravinsky in 1910-11 to create The Firebird and Petrushka. Their idea was to create a piece called “Fantastic Dances,” initially sketched out for two pianos. Unfortunately, Fokine died before the project could be finished. Thus, Rachmaninoff changed course, orchestrating the three movements and offering it to Eugene Ormandy, conductor of the Philadelphia Orchestra, who premiered it in 1941. Concurrently, while orchestrating the piece, though, he completed the version for two pianos – which he performed with his close friend Vladimir Horowitz at a private party in Beverly Hills, California, in August 1942. Oh, to have been a guest at that gathering!
As the last major work Rachmaninoff would ever write, and the only one to be completed in its entirety on American soil, the Symphonic Dances stand as a vivid representation of his mature style. The rhythmic vivacity, ballad-like treatment of thematic material, electrifying musical punctuation and a great deal of chromaticism are all elements of what makes Rachmaninoff so ultimately Rachmaninoff. While listening, never lose sight of the fact that this work was initially conceptualized as music to dance to: the first movement pulsing and vigorous, the second movement redolent of a Viennese waltz, the ultimately frenzied third deriving its basic impulse from Spanish dances such as the jota and the seguidilla. Of note here, too, are the echoes of the Dies Irae chant (from the Gregorian Requiem Mass), which haunted Rachmaninoff throughout his life, and the resolute conviction with which he marks the coda “Alliluya” [sic] – thus ending the work (and, seen from hindsight, his composing career?) with joyful triumph.