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5060192780772 RIMSKY-KORSAKOV ROMANCES

Anush Hovhannisyan Yuriy Yurchuk Sergey Rybin

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Produced, engineered and edited by Spencer Cozens. Recorded 19-21 December 2016 at Steinway Recording, Fulbeck, Lincolnshire, U.K. Steinway technician: Peter Roscoe. Publisher: Moscow, Musyka. Booklet notes © 2017 Sergey Rybin. English translations of sung text © 2017 Sergey Rybin. Cover: Photograph © 2013 Anatoly Sokolov. Inside from cover: Photograph of Sergey Rybin, Anush Hovhannisyan and Yuriy Yurchuk © 2017 Inna Kostukovsky. Graphic design: Colour Blind Design. Printed in the E.U.

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24 Prorok Op.49, No.2 The Prophet Alexander Pushkin Dukhovnoï zhazhdoïu tomim Tormented by spiritual anguish V pustyne mrachnoï ïa vlachils’a, I dragged myself through a grim desert, I shestikrylyï serafim And a six-winged seraphim Na pereputïe mne ïavils’a; Appeared to me at a crossroads; RIMSKY-KORSAKOV Perstami l’ogkimi, kak son, With his fingers, light as a dream, Moikh zenits kosnuls’a on: He touched my eyes: ROMANCES Otverzlis’ vesh’iïe zenitsy, They burst open wide, all-seeing, Kak u ispugannoï orlitsy. Like those of a startled eagle. Moikh usheï kosnuls’a on, He touched my ears I ikh napolnil shum i zvon: And they were filled with clamour and ringing: I vn’al ïa neba sodroganïe, I heard the rumbling of the heavens, I gorniï angelov pol’ot, The high flight of the angels, I gad morskikh podvodnyï khod, The crawling of the underwater reptilians I dol’ney lozy proz’abanïe. And the germinating of the grapevine in the valleys. I on k ustam moim prinik He pressed against my lips I vyrval greshnyï moï ïazyk, And tore out my tongue, I prazdnoslovnyï, i lukavyï, Both exuberant and sly, I zhalo mydryïa zmei And into my frozen lips V usta zamerzshiïe moi The sting of a wise snake Vlozhil desnitseïu krovavoï. He pushed with his bloody hand. I on mne grud’ rass’ok mechom, He cleaved my chest with a sword I serdtse trepetnoïe vynul, And took out my trembling heart, I ugl’, pylaïush’iï ogn’om, And thrust into my opened breast Vo grud’ otverstuïu vodvinul. A flaming piece of coal. Kak trup, v pustyne ïa lezhal. I lay in the desert like a corps. Anush Hovhannisyan I Boga glas ko mne vozzval: And God’s voice called to me: “Vosstan’, prorok, i vizhd’, i vnemli, “Arise, my prophet, behold and hark, Yuriy Yurchuk Ispolnis’ voleïu moïeï Submit to my will, Sergey Rybin I, obkhod’a mor’a i zemli, And, traveling across the seas and lands, Glagolom zhgi serdtsa l’udeï.” Spark people’s hearts with verse.”

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RIMSKY-KORSAKOV ROMANCES Prin’os on smertnuïu smolu He brought back the deadly resin Da vetv’ s uv’adshimi listami, And a branch with withered leaves; I pot po blednomu chelu The sweat across his pale face Struils’a khladnymi ruchïami; Was flowing in cold streams. Prin’os i oslabel, i l’og He weakened and laid down NIKOLAI RIMSKY-KORSAKOV (1844-1908) Pod svodom shalasha na lyki, Under a tent upon a trestle-bed, 1 The lark’s song is ringing louder (Aleksey Tolstoy) a 1’14 I umer bednyï rab u nog And the poor slave died Nepobedimogo vladyki. By the feet of an unconquerable sovereign. 2 The wave crushes, splashes and sprays (Aleksey Tolstoy) b 1’23 A tsar’tem ïadom napital Meanwhile the Tsar drenched with that poison 3 In moments to delight devoted (Ivan Kozlov after Lord Byron) a 1’07 Svoi poslushlivyïe strely His obedient arrows I s nimi gibel’ razoslal And sent around death 4 Nymph (Apollon Maikov) a 3’33 Sosed’am v chuzhdyïe predely. To neighbours in foreign lands. 5 The Octave (Apollon Maikov) b 1’52 23 Ne veter, veïa s vysoty Op.43, No.2 Not the wind blowing from on high 6 The Echo (Sergey Andreevsky after François Coppée) b 2’17 Aleksey Tolstoy 7 Summer night’s dream (Apollon Maikov) a 5’37 Ne veter, veïa s vysoty, Not the wind blowing from on high Listov kosnuls’a nochïu lunnoï – Has touched the leaves in the moonlit night – 8 When the golden cornfield waves (Mikhail Lermontov) b 3’23 Moïeï dushi kosnulas’ty: My soul has been touched by you: Ona trevozhna, kak listy, It is aflutter, like the leaves, 9 On Georgian hills (Alexander Pushkin) b 1’58 Ona, kak gusli, mnogostrunna! It is as sensitive as the lyre’s strings. 10 A flock of passing clouds (Alexander Pushkin) a 3’33 Zhiteïskiï vikhr’ ïeïo terzal, The blizzard of life was tearing it apart, I sokrushitel’nym nabegom, And with the crushing attack, 11 Your glance is as radiant as the heavens (Mikhail Lermontov) b 2’06 Svist’a i voïa struny rval Whistling and howling, tore the strings, 12 Of what I dream in the quiet night (Apollon Maikov) a 2’04 I zanosil kholodnym snegom; And covered my soul with icy snow; Tvoïa zhe rech laskaïet slukh, But your voice caresses my hearing, Tvoïo legko prikosnovenïe, Your touch is as light Kak ot tsvetov let’ash’iï pukh, As the down flying from the flowers, Kak maïskoï nochi dunovenïe. Like a breeze of the May night.

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22 Anchar Op.49, No.1 The Upas Tree Alexander Pushkin V pustyne chakhloï i skupoï, Amid a desert, arid and bare, Na pochve, znoïem raskalennoï, In soil, flaming with heat, Anchar, kak groznyï chasovoï, The Upas tree, like a fearsome guard, Stoit odin vo vseï vselennoï. Stands alone in the entire universe.

Priroda zhazhdush’ikh stepeï The nature of the barren steppes 13 Across the midnight sky (Angel) (Mikhail Lermontov) b 3’34 Ïego v den’ gneva porodila Created it in the day of wrath I zelen’ mertvuïu vetveï, And soaked with deadly poison 14 The rose enchants the nightingale (Aleksey Koltsov) a 3’08 I korni ïadom napoila. Its green branches and its roots. 15 Sun of the sleepless (Aleksey Tolstoy after Lord Byron) b 1’56 Ïad kaplet skvoz’ ïego koru, The poison percolates through its bark 16 The Poet (Alexander Pushkin) a 2’36 K poludn’u rastop’as’ ot znoïu, Melting from the midday heat, I zastyvaïet vvecheru And congeals by evening 17 In the dark grove, the nightingale is silent (Ivan Nikitin) b 2’49 Gustoï, prozrachnoïu smoloïu. Into a dense translucent resin. 18 Svitez maiden (Lev Mei after Adam Mickiewicz) a 3’26 K nemu i ptitsa ne letit, Birds nor beasts roam not near it: 19 Not a sound from the sea (Aleksey Tolstoy) b 2’07 I zver’ neïd’ot: lish vikhor’chornyï Only a black whirlwind Na drevo smerti nabezhit – Occasionally would fly nearby – 20 Slowly drag my days (Alexander Pushkin) b 2’27 I mchits’a proch uzhe tletvornyï. And rush away, but already deadly. 21 The Beauty (Alexander Pushkin) a 2’37 I ïesli tucha orosit, And if a wondering cloud would sprinkle 22 The Upas Tree (Alexander Pushkin) b 4’38 Bluzhdaïa, list ïego dremuchiï, Upon its dense foliage, S ïego vetveï uzh ïadovit From its branches, the toxic rain 23 Not the wind blowing from on high (Aleksey Tolstoy) a 2’01 Stekaïet dozhd’ v pesok gor’uchiï. Flows down into the sizzling sand. 24 The Prophet (Alexander Pushkin) b 4’09 No cheloveka chelovek But a human sent another human Poslal k ancharu vlastnym vzgl’adom; To the Upas tree with a commanding glance; 65’36 I on poslushno v put’ pot’ok, And he obediently set off on a journey, I k utru vozvratils’a s ïadom. Returning by the morning with the poison. Anush Hovhannisyan soprano a Yuriy Yurchuk baritone b Sergey Rybin piano

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RIMSKY-KORSAKOV ROMANCES 21 Krasavitsa Op.51, No.4 The Beauty During the Exposition Universelle of 1889 in Paris, famous among other things for adding Alexander Pushkin the Eiffel Tower to Paris’ skyline, on the opposite side of the Seine, at the Palais du Trocadéro, Vs’o v neï garmoniïa, vs’o divo, Everything in her is harmony, a marvel, on 22 and 29 June, Paris audiences were treated to two concerts of Russian music organized Vs’o vyshe mira i strasteï, Everything is above the world and passions, and financed by prominent arts parton and publisher Mitrofan Belyaev. Under the direction Ona pokoits’a stydlivo She rests modestly of Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov on the conductor’s podium, a comprehensive selection of V krase torzhestvennoï svoïeï; Within her solemn beauty; Russian music was presented, including Glinka’s Ruslan and Ludmila and Kamarinskaïa overtures, the first movement of Tchaikovsky’s 1st Piano Concerto, Musorgsky’s Night on a Ona krugom seb’a vziraïet: She looks around: bare Mountain, Borodin’s Polovtsian Dances from Prince Igor and Rimsky-Korsakov’s own Ïeï net sopernits, net pordrug; There are no rivals or equals to her, Piano Concerto, symphonic poem Antar and Capriccio Espagnol. The interest towards the Inykh krasavits blednyï krug The usual pale circle of beauties Russian composer’s school, perhaps nurtured by these events, and its increasing influence in V ïeïo siïanïi ischezaïet. Disappears in her brilliance. Europe would eventually culminate during the early years of the twentieth century in a huge Kuda by ty ne pospeshal, Wherever you are hurrying, creative outburst of Russian Art, closely associated with the name of Sergey Dyagilev. Nearly Khot’ na l’ubovnoïe svidanïe, Even to a love assignation, eighteen years later, in May 1907, just a few months before his death, Rimsky-Korsakov returned to Paris to conduct a few of his own compositions as part of five Historic Russian Kakoïe b v serdtse ni pital Harbouring within your heart Concerts. Met with admiration, success and recognition befitting one of the most significant Ty sokrovennoïe mechtanïe, A secret yearning – composers of the turn of the century, Rimsky-Korsakov was venerated by the public and No, vtret’as’s neï, smush’onnyï, ty Meeting her, you feel perplexed greeted by Camille Saint-Saëns, Richard Strauss, Rachmaninov, Skryabin and members of Vdrug ostanovishs’a nevol’no, And stop involuntarily, Russian aristocracy during this visit. Blagogov’eïa bogomol’no Piously revering Pered sv’atyneï krasoty. The sanctity of beauty. Rimsky-Korsakov cuts a towering and extremely diverse figure on the Russian musical horizon of the second half of the nineteenth century. His career spans from the mid-1860s, when the Russian composer’s school was still in its early youth, to the beginning of the new century, by which time it has become a fully-fledged and unique phenomenon in European art. It is hard to think of another person during that time who was so consistently instrumental in nurturing the national composer’s school as Rimsky-Korsakov, both in his own works and as a professor of St Petersburg Conservatoire. Aged 27, in summer 1871, he began a nearly 37-year career as professor of orchestral class, composition and instrumentation, and there is hardly any Russian composer of note in that period of time who did not pass through Rimsky-Korsakov’s class – Glazunov, Lyadov, Arensky, Stravinsky, Grechaninov, Taneyev, Prokofiev, Myaskovsky, to name just a handful. Following the publication of the first ever Russian Manual of Harmony created by Tchaikovsky in 1874, Rimsky-Korsakov, on the basis of his own experience of teaching this subject, followed up in 1886 with his “Practical studybook of Harmony”. A scholarly, learned

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19 Ne penits’a more Op.46, No.2 Not a sound from the sea Aleksey Tolstoy approach to composition technique, diligent attention to all aspects of craft, an urge to Ne penits’a more, ne plesh’et volna, The sea doesn’t spume, the wave doesn’t splash, tame the musical anarchy and dilettantism, elevating the composer’s skill to an art, were Derevïa listami ne dvinut; The leaves don’t move on the trees, undoubtedly the cornerstones of Rimsky-Korsakov’s professional credo. “Harmony and Na gladi prozrachnoï tsarit tishina, Upon the translucent surface reigns silence, counterpoint, providing very many sonorities of great variety and complexity, certainly have their boundaries, trespassing which we find ourselves in the area of disharmony and Kak v zerkale mir oprokinut. The world is turned upside down as if in a mirror. cacophony...”, he wrote. A European in his composing technique, while being firmly rooted Sizhu ïa na kanme, vis’at oblaka I sit on a stone, the clouds in the unmistakably Russian musical tradition, Rimsky-Korsakov actively pushed the Nedvizhnyïe v sinem prostore; Hang motionless in the blue vastness; confines in the sphere of harmony, in no small part through usage of the whole-tone Dusha bezm’atezhna, dusha gluboka, My soul is serene and profound (consisting of whole tones) and octatone (consisting of alternating tones and semitones) Srodni ïeï spokoïnoïe more. Akin to the tranquil sea. scales – which opens up possibilities for a wider harmonic palette and relations between tonalities. It is widely noted that these harmonic innovations and expansions profoundly 20 Medlitel’no vlekuts’a dni moi Op.51, No.1 Slowly drag my days influenced the young Ravel, who encountered Russian music as a first year piano student Alexander Pushkin of the Paris Conservatoire during the aforementioned concerts at Exposition Universelle. Medlitel’no vlekuts’a dni moi, Slowly drag my days, There is a curious ironic passage in Ravel’s article in La Revue Musical (1912) in which he I kazhdyï mig v uv’adshem serdtse mnozhit Every moment amplifies in my withered heart defends Debussy against accusations of lacking originality. It reveals a certain opinion in Vse goresti neschastlivoï l’ubvi All woes of unrequited love Parisian musical circles at the time: “We have already learnt that in the discovery of his I t’azhkoïe bezumiïe trevozhit. And agonizing madness troubles me. harmonic system he [Debussy] was wholly indebted to Eric Satie; for features of his theatre, No ïa molchu; ne slyshen ropot moï; But I am silent; my grumble is not heard; to Mussorgsky; for his instrumentation, to Rimsky-Korsakov... Despite of his lack of talent, Ïa sl’ozy lïu; mne sl’ozy uteshenïe. I shed tears; tears are my consolation. there is nothing remains to him except being the most significant, most deeply musical Moïa dusha, obïataïa toskoï, My soul, consumed by grief, amongst modern composers.” As this extract suggests, during his lifetime Rimsky-Korsakov V nikh gor’koïe nakhodit naslazhdenïe. Finds bitter pleasure in tears. was already admired and revered for his unique talent for orchestration (his studybook Oh, zhizni son! Leti, ne zhal’teb’a, Oh, illusion of life! Fly by, I don’t value you, “Foundations of Orchestration” was published shortly after his death). Symphonic works Ischezni v t’me, pustoïe prividenïe; Vanish in darkness, meaningless ghost; like Antar, Russian Easter Festival Overture, Capriccio Espagnol, Sheherazade and, of course Mne dorogo l’ubvi moïeï muchenïe, I treasure the torment of my love, the music of his operas, demonstrate, with full flair, his mastery of orchestral colours and Puskaï umru, no pust’umru l’ub’a! Let me die, but let me die being in love! textures and had proven to be a great influence on the French school in particular. In his approach to instrumentation (as well as operatic dramaturgy) Rimsky-Korsakov was a self- No pust’umru l’ub’a! Let me die being in love! confessed follower of Michail Glinka, whom he greatly admired: “Working with Glinka’s scores was an unexpected education for me. Before these times I knew and adored his operas, but editing his scores for printing, forced me to go through the textures and instrumentation to the last minute little note. There were no boundaries to my fascination and reverence of such a great man. He does everything with such sophistication, but simple and natural at the same time – and with what knowledge of voices and instruments! I avidly

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17 V t’omnoï rosh’e zamolk soloveï Op.4, No.3 In the dark grove, the nightingale is silent soaked up his methods. I was studying his handling of natural brass instruments, which give Ivan Nikitin (1824-1861) his scores untold transparency and lightness, I was learning from his elegant and natural V t’omnoï rosh’e zamolk soloveï, In the dark grove, the nightingale is silent, voicing. That was a beneficial schooling for me, leading towards the path of modern music, Prokatilas’ po nebu zvezda; A star rolled across the sky; after the vicissitudes of counterpoint and strict style.” Mes’ats smotrit skoz’chash’u vetveï, A crescent moon is peering through the branches A rather fecund composer himself – author of 15 operas, 3 symphonies, 79 romances, Zazhigaïet rosu na trave. And sparkles the dew upon the grass. numerous symphonic poems and suites, compositions for chorus and solo piano – Rimsky- Korsakov was also a proactive researcher, editor and champion of the works of many of his Kak pri mes’atse krotok i tikh In the moonlight, how angelic and soft colleagues: preparing new editions of Glinka’s operas; orchestrating Dargomyzhsky’s opera U teb’a milyï ocherk litsa! The silhouette of your dear face! The Stone Guest; finishing and partly orchestrating Borodin’s Prince Igor; engaging in the Etu noch, polnyï gr’oz zolotykh Full of golden dreams, I wish this night monumental work of organising, finishing and publishing the complete works of Musorgsky Ïa b prodlil bez kontsa, bez kontsa! To last forever, forever! – to his tireless and continued altruistic efforts, despite common reproaches for heavy 18 Svitez’anka Op.7, No.3 Svitez maiden editorial interference, we owe the preservation and the beginning of a successful performing Lev Mei (1822-1862) after Adam Mickiewicz (1798-1855) life of many fine works. Paren’ prigozhiï moï, Youth, handsome and comely, While Rimsky-Korsakov’s symphonic works remain extremely popular and some of his Paren’ krasivyï, kto ty? Who are you? operas are also very well known outside Russia, his Romances remain, perhaps, largely Zachem nad Svitezïu burlivoï Why above the roaring Svitez-lake unknown and unfairly neglected. In a letter to a friend, in 1897, Rimsky-Korsakov defined Brodish nenastnoï poroïu? Are you wandering in poor weather? his approach to the genre this way: “I think that in their requests for melodiousness, sing- Bross’a k nam v volny Plunge yourself into the waves ability and expansiveness, singers and the public at large are right... short melodies, I budem kruzhit’s’a vmeste po zybi And let us swirl fragmentation, music departing from harmonies and demand for dissonances – are things in themselves undesirable... There was a time (I remember it) in the sixties, when the majority Khrustal’noï so mnoïu. Together in the crystal ripple. of Chopin’s melodies were considered weak and cheap music... But nevertheless, pure melody, Khochesh, moï milyï, If you would like, my dear, deriving from Mozart, through Chopin and Glinka is alive up till now, and has to remain I lastochkoï shibkoï As a swift swallow alive, for without it the fate of music is decadence.” By his own admission he viewed Budesh nad ozerom mchat’s’a, You could fly over the lake, Romances, particularly in later life, as an étude, a study for finding and perfecting new ideas Ili krasivoï ves’oloïu rybkoï Or as a beautiful jolly fish and methods before implementing them in an operatic context. Comparable in volume and Tselyï den’budesh ty v struïkakh pleskat’s’a? The entire day you could splash in the streams? significance to the output of Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninov, Rimsky-Korsakov’s chamber Nochïu na lozhe volny serebristoï At night, the bed of the silvery wave vocal compositions fully reflect the range of traits and features we find in his larger works. Landysheï my nabrosaïem, We’ll cover with lilies of the valley, One of the most prevalent themes we can trace throughout his music is a particular affinity Sladko zadremlem pod senïu struistoï, In languorous slumber under the streaming cover with the sounds and forces of nature, an inclination towards pantheistic contemplation and Divnyïe gr’ozy uznaïem! We’ll have wondrous dreams! a fusion with creation as a whole – comparisons with Wagner and his outlook upon the world have often been drawn on that basis. The mythological context of Rimsky-Korsakov’s works

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15 Nesp’ash’ikh solntse Op.41, No.1 Sun of the sleepless Aleksey Tolstoy after Lord Byron (for example Snow-maiden or The Legend of the Invisible City of Kitezh), invites a global, all- Nesp’ash’ikh solntse, grustnaïa zvezda, Sun of the sleepless, sorrowful star, encompassing view of nature and a human being’s place within it, that certainly transport Kak sl’ozno luch mertsaïet tvoï vsegda, How tearfully your ray always flickers, some of his creations from the sphere of pure entertainment closer to Wagnerian musical Kak temnota pri n’om ïesh’o temneï, How darkness is gloomier around its light, philosophy. When the golden cornfield waves, a setting of a beautiful poem by Michail Lermontov, is no less that a pantheistic hymn of reconciliation with life’s troubles and Kak on pokhozh na prizrak prezhnikh dneï! How it resembles the ghost of the days long gone! difficulties through peace-giving observation of nature, and merging with its simple and Tak svetit proshloïe nam v zhiznennoï nochi, That way the past radiates for us in the night of life, timeless beauty. A similar sentiment dominates Not a sound from the sea, in which the No uzh ne greïut nas bessil’nyïe luchi, But its powerless rays can’t warm us any more, piano accompaniment portrays a calm, mirror-like surface of the ocean, inducing a Zvezda minuvshego, ty v gore mne vidna, Star of the past, I can see you in my bitter hour, reflective mood in the protagonist. Vivid musical descriptions of the elements are so often Vidna, no daleka, svetla, no kholodna. Visible, but far away, glowing, but cold. found in Rimsky-Korsakov’s compositions – which are, perhaps, enhanced by his well 16 Poet Op.45, No.5 The Poet documented synesthetic association between colour and particular tonalities. Water and the Alexander Pushkin sea (The wave crushes, splashes and sprays) are particularly prevalent – the legacy of his years as a sea cadet in his first career, spending nearly 3 years on board the clipper “Almaz” Poka ne trebuïet poeta While the poet is not summoned (he sailed as far as Brazil). However, his music, so often depictive and descriptive, when K sv’ash’ennoï zhertve Apollon, For a sacred oblation by Apollo, understood in this wider context, reveals a profound aesthetical and ethical vision. The V zabotakh suïetnogo sveta In the chores of the mundane world Octave states this view clearly – that Art, poetry and music, is at its best and most graceful On malodushno pogruzhon; He is submerged carelessly; when inspired, instigated and in accord with nature herself. Molchit ïego sv’ataïa lira; His holy lyre is silent; Rimsky-Korsakov is the greatest Russian operatic fabler. Well over half of his operas are set Dusha vkushaïet khladnyï son, His soul partakes cold slumber, to the stories of Russian fairytales. Never before had the sphere of the fantastical blossomed I mezh deteï nichtozhnykh mira, And amongst the feeble creatures of the world so richly in Russian music. Anthropomorphic forces of nature and other whimsical beings Byt’ mozhet, vsekh nichtozhneï on. He is, probably, the feeblest. inhabit his Romances as well. Svitez maiden, a glimpse into the romantic and mysterious No chut’ bozhestvennyï glagol But as soon as Godly accents world of a ballad by Adam Mickiewicz, is reminiscent of musical passages, associated with Do slukha chutkogo kosn’ots’a, Touch the sensitive hearing, underwater happenings, from Sadko and The Legend of the Invisible City of Kitezh. The Dusha poeta vstrepen’ots’a, The poet’s soul shudders alarming muddled sonority of the introduction eventually brightens to reveal a seductive Kak probudivshiïs’a or’ol. Like an awakened eagle. Rusalka-like creature inviting a late-night wanderer to come and play with her in the rippling waters of the lake Svitez – thus betraying the oath of fidelity, given to his beloved, Toskuïet on v zabavakh mira, He is bored amidst worldly gaiety, made of flesh and blood. Another water Nymph appears amongst the reeds to sing of her L’udskoï chuzhdaïets’a molvy, He flees society’s bustle, unrequited love and enchant the passing sailors: the undulating arpeggios in the piano part K nogam narodnogo kumira Before the people’s idol suggest calm waters, while the plasticity and linear expansiveness of the vocal line depict the Ne klonit gordoï golovy; He does not bow his proud head; appealing silhouette of her body and her flowing tresses. Bezhit on, dikiï i surovyï, He escapes, wild and rugged, I zvukov, i sm’at’enïa poln, Full of sounds and turmoil, Through pictures of nature we frequently find a window into the internal sphere of human Na berega pustynnykh voln, To the shores of desolate waves, emotions in Rimsky-Korsakov’s Romances. Against the nocturnal backdrop of Summer V shirokoshumnyïe dubrovy... To the ever roaring oakwoods...

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13 Po nebu polunochi (Angel) Op.40, No.2 Across the midnight sky (Angel) night’s dream we witness the amorous languishing of a young girl, very much resembling Mikhail Lermontov Pushkin’s (and Tchaikovsky’s) Tatiana from Eugene Onegin, – whose imagination, spurred Po nebu polunochi angel letel, In the midnight sky an angel flew on and enflamed by the intoxicating beauty of a summer’s night, takes her on quite a I tikhuïu pesn’u on pel; And he was singing a quiet song. journey though to the early hours of the morning. Sun of the sleepless, a poem of George I mes’ats, i zv’ozdy, i tuchi tolpoï A crescent moon, stars and crowded clouds Byron in a Russian version by Count Alexey Tolstoy, is a less blissful account of nocturnal Vnimali toï pesn’e sv’atoï. musings, a version of a song to the moon – regretful about the fading memories of the past, Were listening to that sacred song. which are so alike the moon’s cold and distant light. On pel o blazhenstve bezgreshnykh dukhov He sung about the bliss of Holy souls A thorough fascination and attraction to all things Oriental, so endemic in the Russian Pod kush’ami raïskikh sadov, Under the branches of Eden’s garden, psyche, manifested itself in Rimsky-Korsakov’s music on a grand scale. It would be fair to O Boge velicom on pel, He sung of great God call him the most prolific orientalist in the history of Russian music, both by the volume I khvala ïego nepritvorna byla. With earnest and sincere praise. and quality of his oeuvre. The symphonic suite Sheherazade is the finest and most On dushu mladuïu v obïatiïakh n’os He carried a young soul in his embrace memorable example of this trait in his music, alongside Antar, the opera-ballet Mlada, Dl’a mira pechali i sl’oz; For the world of sorrow and tears; extended passages in The Golden Cockrel and Sadko and a few Romances. Rimsky-Korsakov’s I zvuk ïego pesni v dushe molodoï And the sound of his song remained orientalism was nourished to a large extent by the works of the two most significant Russian poets of the nineteenth century – Alexander Pushkin and Michail Lermontov, who both Ostals’a bez slov, no zhivoï. Within the young soul, without words, but alive. visited the southern regions of Caucasus and Crimea on numerous occasions and produced I dolgo na svete tomilas’ ona, The soul languished in this world for long time, a wealth of masterpieces of literature reflecting their impressions, forever shrouding that Zhelaniïem chudnym polna, Full of wondrous yearning, region in a veil of romanticism for the Russians. A flock of passing clouds, describing a I zvukov nebes zamenit’ne mogli And the heavenly sounds could not be replaced locality near the Crimean seaside town of Gurzuf, is an elegy to the evening star (Venus), full Ïeï skuchnyïe pesni zemli. By uninspired songs of earth. of bitter-sweet reminiscences of its opulent surroundings and light enamoured melancholy. The smouldering Caucasian ardour of the poem Your glance is as radiant as the heavens 14 Plenivshis’rosoï, soloveï Op.2, No.2 The rose enchants the nightingale is magnified by a sustained harmonic ellipsis in the piano part as well as by the introduction Aleksey Koltsov (1809-1842) of a rhythmical figure associated with Georgian male folk dance in the middle section. The Plenivshis’ rosoï, soloveï Enchanted by the rose, a nightingale rose enchants a nightingale, a wonderfully refined and distilled example of Rimsky- I den’i noch poïot nad neï; Day and night sings above it; Korsakov’s oriental affinity, although being the earliest in our selection (written in 1866), No rosa molcha pesne vnemlet... But the rose listens silently... remains one of his most popular Romances. Over the years a performing tradition has Na lire tak pevets inoï In that way a poet with his lyre emerged for the tune in the piano postlude to be vocalised by the singer – we are following that tradition on our recording. Poïot dl’a devy molodoï; Sings for a young maiden; A deva milaïa ne znaïet, But the dear maiden knows not © 2017 Dr Sergey Rybin Komu poïot i otchego To whom he sings and why Pechal’ny pesni tak ego. His songs are so full of melancholy.

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RIMSKY-KORSAKOV ROMANCES 11 Kak nebesa tvoï vzor blistaïet Op.7, No.4 Your glance is as radiant as the heavens 1 Zvonche zhavoronka penïe Op.43, No.1 The lark’s song is ringing louder Mikhail Lermontov Aleksey Tolstoy (1883-1945) Kak nebesa, tvoï vzor blistaïet Your glance is as radiant as the heavens Zvonche zhavoronka penïe, The lark’s song is ringing louder, Emalïu goluboï; With its azure enamel; Ïarche veshniïe tsvety, The spring flowers are growing brighter, Kak potseluï, zvuchit i taïet Your youthful voice like a kiss Serdtse polno vdokhnovenïa, The heart is full of inspiration, Tvoï golos molodoï. Vibrates and melts away. Nebo polno krasoty. The sky is full of splendour. Za zvuk odin volshebnoï rechi, Just for the sound of your magical accents, Razorvav toski okovy, Destroying the shackles Za tvoï ïedinyï vzl’ad For your single gaze Tsepi poshlyïe razbiv, And the chains of of spleen Ïa brosit’ rad krasavtsa sechi – I’d gladly give up the hero of the battle – Nabegaïet zhizni novoï Rushes in the triumphant tide Gruzinskiï moï bulat... My Georgian dagger... Torzhestvuïush’iï priliv, Of a new life. Kak nebesa, tvoï vzor blistaïet Your glance is as radiant as the heavens I zvuchit svezho i ïuno Youthfully and freshly sounds Emalïu goluboï; With its azure enamel; Novykh sil moguchiï stroï, The mighty accord of the new forces, Kak potseluï, zvuchit i taïet Your youthful voice like a kiss Kak nat’anutyïe struny Like the stretched strings Tvoï golos molodoï. Vibrates and melts away. Mezhdu nebom i zeml’oï. Between heaven and earth. 12 O chom v tishi nocheï Op.40, No.3 Of what I dream in the quiet night 2 Drobits’a, i plesh’et, i bryzzhet volna The wave crushes, splashes and sprays Apollon Maikov Op.46, No.1 O chom v tishi nocheï tainstvenno mechtaïu, Of what in the quiet night I secretly dream, Aleksey Tolstoy O chom pri svete dn’a vsechasno pomyshl’aïu, – Of what in the light of day I think every hour, – Drobits’a, i presh’et, i bryzzhet volna The wave crushes, splashes and sprays To budet taïnoï vsem, i dazhe ty, Will remain a mystery to everyone, and even to Mne v ochi sol’onoïu vlagoï; Into my eyes with salty moisture; moï stikh, you, my verse, Nedvizhno na kamne sizhu ïa, polna I sit still on the rock, Ty, drug moï vetrennyï, uslada dneï moikh, You, my flighty friend, my daily consolation, Dusha bezotchotnoï otvagoï. My soul is full of irrepressible valour. Tebe ne peredam dushi moïeï mechtan’a, To you I won’t convey the yearnings of my soul, Valy za valami, priboï i otboï, Wave after wave, tide and ebb, A to rasskazhesh ty, cheï glas v Because you might reveal whose voice in the I pena ikh grebni pokryla. All their crests are covered with foam. nochnom molchanïe mne slyshits’a, cheï lik ïa night’s silence, O more, kogo zhe mne vyzvat’na boï, Oh, sea – whom can I challenge to a contest vs’udu nakhozhu, I hear, whose face appears to me in everything, Izvedat’voskresshiïe sily? To try out my resurgent spirit? Chïi ochi svet’at mne, chïo im’a Whose eyes shine for me, whose name I ïa tverzhu. endlessly repeat. Pochuïalo serdtse, chto zhizn’khorosha, My heart feels that life is great, Vy, volny, razmykali gore, You, waves, dispelled the grief, Ot groma i pleska prosnulas’dusha – My soul has awakened from thunder and splashing – Srodni ïeï shum’ash’eïe more! Akin to the roaring sea!

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3 V poryve nezhnosti serdechnoï Op.26, No.1 In moments to delight devoted 10 Redeïet oblakov letuchaïa gr’ada Op.42, No.3 A flock of passing clouds Ivan Kozlov (1779-1840) after Lord Byron (1788-1824) Alexander Pushkin V poryve nezhnsoti serdechnoï In an outburst of your heart’s passion Redeïet oblakov letuchaïa gr’ada; A flock of passing clouds disperses; Ty zhisnïu druga nazvala: You called your friend “My life!”: Zvezda pechal’naïa, vechern’aïa zvezda! Sorrowful star, star of the evening! Privet bestsennyï, esli b vechno A precious accolade, if only Tvoï luch oserebril uv’adshiïe ravniny Your ray silvers the withered plains, Zhivaïa molodost’tsvela. Life and youth lasted forever. I dreml’ush’iï zaliv, i chornykh The slumbering bay, and the peaks of the skal vershiny. black rocks. K mogile vs’o letit streloïu, Life flies towards death like an arrow, L’ubl’u tvoï slabyï svet v nebesnoï vyshine; I love your faint light in the Heaven’s height; I ty, men’a laskaïa vnov’, So, caressing me again, On dumy razbudil, usnuvshiïe It awakened thoughts which were dormant Zovi ne zhiznïu, a dushoïu, Call me not “life”, but “soul”, vo mne: within me: Bessmertnoï kak moïa l’ubov’! Immortal, like my love! Ïa pomn’u tvoï voskhod, znakomoïe svetilo, I remember your rising, darling star, 4 Nimfa Op.56, No.1 Nymph Nad mirnoïu stranoï, gde vs’o dl’a Above a peaceful land, where everything is Apollon Maikov (1821-1897) serdtsa milo, dear to my heart, Ïa znaïu, otchego u etikh beregov I know the reason why by these shores Gde stroïny topoli v dolinakh vozneslis’, Where slender poplars rise up in the valleys, Razdumïe taïnoïe obïemlet dukh plovtsov: A mysterious pensive mood seizes the sailors: Gde dremlet nezhnyï mirt, i t’omnyï kiparis, Where tender myrtle and dark cypress slumber, Tam nimfa grustnaïa s raspush’ennoï kosoïu, A melancholy nymph with flowing tresses, I sladostno shum’at poludennyïe volny. And the midday waves splash languorously. Poluzakrytaïa pevucheï osokoïu, Half-hidden by rustling reeds, Tam nekogda v gorakh, serdechnoï There in the hills, once upon a time, full of Poroïu pesn’ poïot Sometimes sings a song there dumy polnyï , heartfelt thoughts, Pro sholk svoikh vlasov, About the silk of her hair, Nad morem ïa vlachil Above the sea I dragged out my days in Lazur’ zaplakannykh ocheï, zhemchug zubov, The azure of her tearful eyes, the pearls of her teeth, zadumchivuïu len’, pensive idleness, I serdtse polnoïe l’ubvi nerazdel’onnoï. And a heart full of unrequited love. Kogda na khizhiny skhodila When upon the villages the nightly shadow Proïedet li chelnok – plovets obvorozhonnyï, Passing by in a boat an enchanted sailor nochi t’en’ – was descending, Ïeïo zaslushavshis’, perestaïot gresti; Listening to her song stops rowing; I deva ïunaïa vo t’me And a young girl was seeking you out in Zamolknet li ona, no dolgo na puti And, even when she falls silent, teb’a iskala the darkness Ïemu vs’o chud’ats’a napevy He still imagines for a while the singing above I imenem svoim podrugam nazyvala. And called you by her own name to her girlfriends. nad vodoïu the waters, I nimfa v kamyshakh, And the nymph in the reeds S raspush’ennoï kosoïu. With flowing tresses.

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9 Na kholmakh Gruzii Op.3, No.4 On Georgian hills 5 Oktava Op.45, No.3 The Octave Alexander Pushkin (1799-1837) Apollon Maikov Na kholmakh Gruzii lezhit nochnaïa mgla; On Georgian hills lies night’s darkness; Garmonii stikha bozhestvennyïe taïny Divine mysteries of the verse’s harmony Shumit Aragva predo mnoïu. Aragvi roars before me. Ne dumaï razgadat’ po knigam mudretsov: Try not to unravel in the wise books: Mne grustno i legko; pechal’moïa svetla; I feel sorrowful and at ease; my sadness is light; U brega sonnykh vod odin Instead, wondering ashore by the Pechal’moïa polna toboïu, My sadness is full of you, brod’a, sluchaïno, sleepy waves, alone, Toboï, toboï ondoï... You, only you... Prislushaïs’a dushoï k Gently listen in with your soul to the Unynïa moïego nichto ne muchit, ne trevozhit, My gloom is not disturbed or tortured by anything, sheptanïu trostnikov, whispering of the reeds, I serdtse vnov’ gorit i bïotsa ottogo, And my heart again burns and beats faster because Dubravy govoru; ikh zvuk neobychaïnyï To the babble of oakwood; their wondrous sounds Chto ne l’ubit’ ono ne mozhet. It cannot renounce love. Prochuvstvuï i poïmi...V Understand and take to heart... Then as sozvuchii stikhov harmonious poetry Nevol’no s ust tvoikh razmernyïe octavy Naturally from your lips the rhythmical octaves Polïuts’a stroïnyïe kak muzyka dubravy. Will flow, gracefully, like nature’s own music. 6 Ekho Op.27, No.2 The Echo Sergey Andreevsky (1847-1918) after François Coppée (1842-1908) Ïa gor’ko setoval v pustyne: I bitterly lamented amidst the desert: “Kto budet blizok mne ontyne, “Who from now on will be Kak byli blizki serdzu Vy?” As close to my heart as You once were?” Mne ekho vtorilo: “Uvy!” The echo responded: “Alas!” “Kak budu zhit’, bol’noï i skuchnyï, “How will I live on, sick and morose, Tomim pechalïu neotluchnoï Tormented by ever present sorrow I r’adom t’agostnykh godin?” And many onerous years?” Mne ekho vtorilo: “Odin!” The echo responded: “Alone!” “No chto mne delat’, mir – mogila, “But what should I do? The world is a grave, Mne zhizn’ bestsel’naïa postyla. Meaningless life is abhorrent to me. Gde prezhniï blesk, i shum, i raï?” Where is former splendour, pleasure and paradise?” Skazalo ekho: “Umiraï!” The echo said: “Die!”

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7 Son v letn’uïu noch Op.56, No.2 Summer night’s dream Pod dykhanïem ïego obessilila ïa... Under his breath I grew weak... Apollon Maikov Na grudi razomknulis’a ryki... My hands I unclasped from my chest... Dolgo nochïu vchera ïa zasnut’ne mogla, For a long time I couldn’t get to sleep last night, I zvuchalo v ushakh: “Ty moïa! Ty moïa!” And I heard: “You are mine! You are mine!” Ïa vstavala, okno otvor’ala... I got up, opened the window... Tochno arfy dal’okiïe zvuki... Like the distant sounds of the harp... Noch nemaïa men’a i tomila, i zhgla, The still night caressed and burned me, Protekali chasy... Ïa otkryla glaza... The hours have passed... I opened my eyes... Aromatom tsvetov opïan’ala... Intoxicating me with the aroma of the flowers... Moï pokoï byl uzh oblit zar’oïu... My slumber has already been lit by the dawn... Tol’ko vdrug zashumeli kusty pod oknom, Suddenly the bushes rustled under the window, Ïa odna... vs’a drozhu... Raspustilas’ kosa... I’m alone... shaking all over... My hair is undone. Raspakhnulas’, shum’a, zanaveska – The curtain blew open – Ïa ne znaïu, chto bylo so mnoïu... I don’t know what happened to me. I vletel ko mne ïunosha, svetel litsom, And a youth flew in, with a bright face, 8 Kogda volnuïets’a zhelteïush’aïa niva When the golden cornfield waves Tochno ves’ byl iz lunnogo bleska. As if he were made from the moon’s sparkle. Op.40, No.1 Rastvorilis’a dveri svetlitsy moïeï, The doors to my bedroom opened, Mikhail Lermontov (1814-1841) Kolonnady za nimi otkrylis; Colonnades were revealed behind them; Kogda volnuïets’a zhelteïush’aïa niva, When the golden cornfield waves V piramidakh iz roz verenitsy ogneï Garlands of lights adorned with roses I svezhiï les shumit pri zvuke veterka, And the fresh forest rustles in the wind, V alebastrovykh vasakh svetilis’... Were shining in alabaster vases... I pr’achets’a v sadu malinovaïa sliva When the crimson plum hides in the garden Pod tenïu sladostnoï zel’onogo listka, Under the sweet shade of a green leaf, Chudnyï gost’ podkhodil vs’o k posteli moïeï, The wondrous guest approached my bed Govoril mne on s krotkoï ulybkoï: And said with a mild smile: Kogda rosoï obryzgannyï dushistoï, When, sprinkled with fragrant dew, “Otchego predo mnoïu v podushki skoreï “Why at my sight did you dive so quickly Rum’anym vecherom il’ utra v chas zlatoï, In a blushing evening or golden morning time, Ty nyrnula ispugannoï rybkoï! Into your pillows like a frightened little fish! Iz-pod kusta mne landysh serebristyï A silvery lily of the valley from under the bush Privetlivo kivaïet golovoï; Affably beckons to me with its head; Ogl’anis’a – ïa Bog, Bog videniï Look back at me – I am the God of illusions i gr’oz, and dreams, Kogda stud’onyï kl’uch igraïet po ovragu When the cold stream glistens in the ravine Taïnyï drug ïa zastenchivoï devy... I am a secret friend for a shy maiden... I, pogruzhaïa mysl’v kakoï-to And, submerging my thought into some I blazhenstvo nebes ïa And the rapture of heavens I have brought for smutnyï son, obscure slumber, vpervyïe prin’os the first time Lepechet mne tainstvennuïu sagu Murmurs a mysterious saga Dl’a teb’a, dl’a moïeï korolevy...” For you – my queen...” Pro mirnyï kraï, otkuda mchits’a on; About a peaceful land from which it flows; Govoril i litso on moïo otryval He was speaking and gently lifting Togda smir’aïets’a dushi moïeï trevoga, Then dissipates my soul’s anxiety, Ot podushki tikhon’ko rukami, My face from the pillow with his hands, Togda raskhod’ats’a morsh’iny na chele, Then the wrinkles dissolve from my forehead, I sh’eki moïeï kraï gor’acho tseloval, And the side of my cheek he was passionately kissing, I schast’e ïa mogu postignut’ na zemle, And I can comprehend happiness upon the Earth, I iskal moikh ust on ustami... And seeking my lips with his own... I v nebesakh ïa vizhu Boga! And in the sky I can see God!

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7 Son v letn’uïu noch Op.56, No.2 Summer night’s dream Pod dykhanïem ïego obessilila ïa... Under his breath I grew weak... Apollon Maikov Na grudi razomknulis’a ryki... My hands I unclasped from my chest... Dolgo nochïu vchera ïa zasnut’ne mogla, For a long time I couldn’t get to sleep last night, I zvuchalo v ushakh: “Ty moïa! Ty moïa!” And I heard: “You are mine! You are mine!” Ïa vstavala, okno otvor’ala... I got up, opened the window... Tochno arfy dal’okiïe zvuki... Like the distant sounds of the harp... Noch nemaïa men’a i tomila, i zhgla, The still night caressed and burned me, Protekali chasy... Ïa otkryla glaza... The hours have passed... I opened my eyes... Aromatom tsvetov opïan’ala... Intoxicating me with the aroma of the flowers... Moï pokoï byl uzh oblit zar’oïu... My slumber has already been lit by the dawn... Tol’ko vdrug zashumeli kusty pod oknom, Suddenly the bushes rustled under the window, Ïa odna... vs’a drozhu... Raspustilas’ kosa... I’m alone... shaking all over... My hair is undone. Raspakhnulas’, shum’a, zanaveska – The curtain blew open – Ïa ne znaïu, chto bylo so mnoïu... I don’t know what happened to me. I vletel ko mne ïunosha, svetel litsom, And a youth flew in, with a bright face, 8 Kogda volnuïets’a zhelteïush’aïa niva When the golden cornfield waves Tochno ves’ byl iz lunnogo bleska. As if he were made from the moon’s sparkle. Op.40, No.1 Rastvorilis’a dveri svetlitsy moïeï, The doors to my bedroom opened, Mikhail Lermontov (1814-1841) Kolonnady za nimi otkrylis; Colonnades were revealed behind them; Kogda volnuïets’a zhelteïush’aïa niva, When the golden cornfield waves V piramidakh iz roz verenitsy ogneï Garlands of lights adorned with roses I svezhiï les shumit pri zvuke veterka, And the fresh forest rustles in the wind, V alebastrovykh vasakh svetilis’... Were shining in alabaster vases... I pr’achets’a v sadu malinovaïa sliva When the crimson plum hides in the garden Pod tenïu sladostnoï zel’onogo listka, Under the sweet shade of a green leaf, Chudnyï gost’ podkhodil vs’o k posteli moïeï, The wondrous guest approached my bed Govoril mne on s krotkoï ulybkoï: And said with a mild smile: Kogda rosoï obryzgannyï dushistoï, When, sprinkled with fragrant dew, “Otchego predo mnoïu v podushki skoreï “Why at my sight did you dive so quickly Rum’anym vecherom il’ utra v chas zlatoï, In a blushing evening or golden morning time, Ty nyrnula ispugannoï rybkoï! Into your pillows like a frightened little fish! Iz-pod kusta mne landysh serebristyï A silvery lily of the valley from under the bush Privetlivo kivaïet golovoï; Affably beckons to me with its head; Ogl’anis’a – ïa Bog, Bog videniï Look back at me – I am the God of illusions i gr’oz, and dreams, Kogda stud’onyï kl’uch igraïet po ovragu When the cold stream glistens in the ravine Taïnyï drug ïa zastenchivoï devy... I am a secret friend for a shy maiden... I, pogruzhaïa mysl’v kakoï-to And, submerging my thought into some I blazhenstvo nebes ïa And the rapture of heavens I have brought for smutnyï son, obscure slumber, vpervyïe prin’os the first time Lepechet mne tainstvennuïu sagu Murmurs a mysterious saga Dl’a teb’a, dl’a moïeï korolevy...” For you – my queen...” Pro mirnyï kraï, otkuda mchits’a on; About a peaceful land from which it flows; Govoril i litso on moïo otryval He was speaking and gently lifting Togda smir’aïets’a dushi moïeï trevoga, Then dissipates my soul’s anxiety, Ot podushki tikhon’ko rukami, My face from the pillow with his hands, Togda raskhod’ats’a morsh’iny na chele, Then the wrinkles dissolve from my forehead, I sh’eki moïeï kraï gor’acho tseloval, And the side of my cheek he was passionately kissing, I schast’e ïa mogu postignut’ na zemle, And I can comprehend happiness upon the Earth, I iskal moikh ust on ustami... And seeking my lips with his own... I v nebesakh ïa vizhu Boga! And in the sky I can see God!

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9 Na kholmakh Gruzii Op.3, No.4 On Georgian hills 5 Oktava Op.45, No.3 The Octave Alexander Pushkin (1799-1837) Apollon Maikov Na kholmakh Gruzii lezhit nochnaïa mgla; On Georgian hills lies night’s darkness; Garmonii stikha bozhestvennyïe taïny Divine mysteries of the verse’s harmony Shumit Aragva predo mnoïu. Aragvi roars before me. Ne dumaï razgadat’ po knigam mudretsov: Try not to unravel in the wise books: Mne grustno i legko; pechal’moïa svetla; I feel sorrowful and at ease; my sadness is light; U brega sonnykh vod odin Instead, wondering ashore by the Pechal’moïa polna toboïu, My sadness is full of you, brod’a, sluchaïno, sleepy waves, alone, Toboï, toboï ondoï... You, only you... Prislushaïs’a dushoï k Gently listen in with your soul to the Unynïa moïego nichto ne muchit, ne trevozhit, My gloom is not disturbed or tortured by anything, sheptanïu trostnikov, whispering of the reeds, I serdtse vnov’ gorit i bïotsa ottogo, And my heart again burns and beats faster because Dubravy govoru; ikh zvuk neobychaïnyï To the babble of oakwood; their wondrous sounds Chto ne l’ubit’ ono ne mozhet. It cannot renounce love. Prochuvstvuï i poïmi...V Understand and take to heart... Then as sozvuchii stikhov harmonious poetry Nevol’no s ust tvoikh razmernyïe octavy Naturally from your lips the rhythmical octaves Polïuts’a stroïnyïe kak muzyka dubravy. Will flow, gracefully, like nature’s own music. 6 Ekho Op.27, No.2 The Echo Sergey Andreevsky (1847-1918) after François Coppée (1842-1908) Ïa gor’ko setoval v pustyne: I bitterly lamented amidst the desert: “Kto budet blizok mne ontyne, “Who from now on will be Kak byli blizki serdzu Vy?” As close to my heart as You once were?” Mne ekho vtorilo: “Uvy!” The echo responded: “Alas!” “Kak budu zhit’, bol’noï i skuchnyï, “How will I live on, sick and morose, Tomim pechalïu neotluchnoï Tormented by ever present sorrow I r’adom t’agostnykh godin?” And many onerous years?” Mne ekho vtorilo: “Odin!” The echo responded: “Alone!” “No chto mne delat’, mir – mogila, “But what should I do? The world is a grave, Mne zhizn’ bestsel’naïa postyla. Meaningless life is abhorrent to me. Gde prezhniï blesk, i shum, i raï?” Where is former splendour, pleasure and paradise?” Skazalo ekho: “Umiraï!” The echo said: “Die!”

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3 V poryve nezhnosti serdechnoï Op.26, No.1 In moments to delight devoted 10 Redeïet oblakov letuchaïa gr’ada Op.42, No.3 A flock of passing clouds Ivan Kozlov (1779-1840) after Lord Byron (1788-1824) Alexander Pushkin V poryve nezhnsoti serdechnoï In an outburst of your heart’s passion Redeïet oblakov letuchaïa gr’ada; A flock of passing clouds disperses; Ty zhisnïu druga nazvala: You called your friend “My life!”: Zvezda pechal’naïa, vechern’aïa zvezda! Sorrowful star, star of the evening! Privet bestsennyï, esli b vechno A precious accolade, if only Tvoï luch oserebril uv’adshiïe ravniny Your ray silvers the withered plains, Zhivaïa molodost’tsvela. Life and youth lasted forever. I dreml’ush’iï zaliv, i chornykh The slumbering bay, and the peaks of the skal vershiny. black rocks. K mogile vs’o letit streloïu, Life flies towards death like an arrow, L’ubl’u tvoï slabyï svet v nebesnoï vyshine; I love your faint light in the Heaven’s height; I ty, men’a laskaïa vnov’, So, caressing me again, On dumy razbudil, usnuvshiïe It awakened thoughts which were dormant Zovi ne zhiznïu, a dushoïu, Call me not “life”, but “soul”, vo mne: within me: Bessmertnoï kak moïa l’ubov’! Immortal, like my love! Ïa pomn’u tvoï voskhod, znakomoïe svetilo, I remember your rising, darling star, 4 Nimfa Op.56, No.1 Nymph Nad mirnoïu stranoï, gde vs’o dl’a Above a peaceful land, where everything is Apollon Maikov (1821-1897) serdtsa milo, dear to my heart, Ïa znaïu, otchego u etikh beregov I know the reason why by these shores Gde stroïny topoli v dolinakh vozneslis’, Where slender poplars rise up in the valleys, Razdumïe taïnoïe obïemlet dukh plovtsov: A mysterious pensive mood seizes the sailors: Gde dremlet nezhnyï mirt, i t’omnyï kiparis, Where tender myrtle and dark cypress slumber, Tam nimfa grustnaïa s raspush’ennoï kosoïu, A melancholy nymph with flowing tresses, I sladostno shum’at poludennyïe volny. And the midday waves splash languorously. Poluzakrytaïa pevucheï osokoïu, Half-hidden by rustling reeds, Tam nekogda v gorakh, serdechnoï There in the hills, once upon a time, full of Poroïu pesn’ poïot Sometimes sings a song there dumy polnyï , heartfelt thoughts, Pro sholk svoikh vlasov, About the silk of her hair, Nad morem ïa vlachil Above the sea I dragged out my days in Lazur’ zaplakannykh ocheï, zhemchug zubov, The azure of her tearful eyes, the pearls of her teeth, zadumchivuïu len’, pensive idleness, I serdtse polnoïe l’ubvi nerazdel’onnoï. And a heart full of unrequited love. Kogda na khizhiny skhodila When upon the villages the nightly shadow Proïedet li chelnok – plovets obvorozhonnyï, Passing by in a boat an enchanted sailor nochi t’en’ – was descending, Ïeïo zaslushavshis’, perestaïot gresti; Listening to her song stops rowing; I deva ïunaïa vo t’me And a young girl was seeking you out in Zamolknet li ona, no dolgo na puti And, even when she falls silent, teb’a iskala the darkness Ïemu vs’o chud’ats’a napevy He still imagines for a while the singing above I imenem svoim podrugam nazyvala. And called you by her own name to her girlfriends. nad vodoïu the waters, I nimfa v kamyshakh, And the nymph in the reeds S raspush’ennoï kosoïu. With flowing tresses.

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RIMSKY-KORSAKOV ROMANCES 11 Kak nebesa tvoï vzor blistaïet Op.7, No.4 Your glance is as radiant as the heavens 1 Zvonche zhavoronka penïe Op.43, No.1 The lark’s song is ringing louder Mikhail Lermontov Aleksey Tolstoy (1883-1945) Kak nebesa, tvoï vzor blistaïet Your glance is as radiant as the heavens Zvonche zhavoronka penïe, The lark’s song is ringing louder, Emalïu goluboï; With its azure enamel; Ïarche veshniïe tsvety, The spring flowers are growing brighter, Kak potseluï, zvuchit i taïet Your youthful voice like a kiss Serdtse polno vdokhnovenïa, The heart is full of inspiration, Tvoï golos molodoï. Vibrates and melts away. Nebo polno krasoty. The sky is full of splendour. Za zvuk odin volshebnoï rechi, Just for the sound of your magical accents, Razorvav toski okovy, Destroying the shackles Za tvoï ïedinyï vzl’ad For your single gaze Tsepi poshlyïe razbiv, And the chains of of spleen Ïa brosit’ rad krasavtsa sechi – I’d gladly give up the hero of the battle – Nabegaïet zhizni novoï Rushes in the triumphant tide Gruzinskiï moï bulat... My Georgian dagger... Torzhestvuïush’iï priliv, Of a new life. Kak nebesa, tvoï vzor blistaïet Your glance is as radiant as the heavens I zvuchit svezho i ïuno Youthfully and freshly sounds Emalïu goluboï; With its azure enamel; Novykh sil moguchiï stroï, The mighty accord of the new forces, Kak potseluï, zvuchit i taïet Your youthful voice like a kiss Kak nat’anutyïe struny Like the stretched strings Tvoï golos molodoï. Vibrates and melts away. Mezhdu nebom i zeml’oï. Between heaven and earth. 12 O chom v tishi nocheï Op.40, No.3 Of what I dream in the quiet night 2 Drobits’a, i plesh’et, i bryzzhet volna The wave crushes, splashes and sprays Apollon Maikov Op.46, No.1 O chom v tishi nocheï tainstvenno mechtaïu, Of what in the quiet night I secretly dream, Aleksey Tolstoy O chom pri svete dn’a vsechasno pomyshl’aïu, – Of what in the light of day I think every hour, – Drobits’a, i presh’et, i bryzzhet volna The wave crushes, splashes and sprays To budet taïnoï vsem, i dazhe ty, Will remain a mystery to everyone, and even to Mne v ochi sol’onoïu vlagoï; Into my eyes with salty moisture; moï stikh, you, my verse, Nedvizhno na kamne sizhu ïa, polna I sit still on the rock, Ty, drug moï vetrennyï, uslada dneï moikh, You, my flighty friend, my daily consolation, Dusha bezotchotnoï otvagoï. My soul is full of irrepressible valour. Tebe ne peredam dushi moïeï mechtan’a, To you I won’t convey the yearnings of my soul, Valy za valami, priboï i otboï, Wave after wave, tide and ebb, A to rasskazhesh ty, cheï glas v Because you might reveal whose voice in the I pena ikh grebni pokryla. All their crests are covered with foam. nochnom molchanïe mne slyshits’a, cheï lik ïa night’s silence, O more, kogo zhe mne vyzvat’na boï, Oh, sea – whom can I challenge to a contest vs’udu nakhozhu, I hear, whose face appears to me in everything, Izvedat’voskresshiïe sily? To try out my resurgent spirit? Chïi ochi svet’at mne, chïo im’a Whose eyes shine for me, whose name I ïa tverzhu. endlessly repeat. Pochuïalo serdtse, chto zhizn’khorosha, My heart feels that life is great, Vy, volny, razmykali gore, You, waves, dispelled the grief, Ot groma i pleska prosnulas’dusha – My soul has awakened from thunder and splashing – Srodni ïeï shum’ash’eïe more! Akin to the roaring sea!

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13 Po nebu polunochi (Angel) Op.40, No.2 Across the midnight sky (Angel) night’s dream we witness the amorous languishing of a young girl, very much resembling Mikhail Lermontov Pushkin’s (and Tchaikovsky’s) Tatiana from Eugene Onegin, – whose imagination, spurred Po nebu polunochi angel letel, In the midnight sky an angel flew on and enflamed by the intoxicating beauty of a summer’s night, takes her on quite a I tikhuïu pesn’u on pel; And he was singing a quiet song. journey though to the early hours of the morning. Sun of the sleepless, a poem of George I mes’ats, i zv’ozdy, i tuchi tolpoï A crescent moon, stars and crowded clouds Byron in a Russian version by Count Alexey Tolstoy, is a less blissful account of nocturnal Vnimali toï pesn’e sv’atoï. musings, a version of a song to the moon – regretful about the fading memories of the past, Were listening to that sacred song. which are so alike the moon’s cold and distant light. On pel o blazhenstve bezgreshnykh dukhov He sung about the bliss of Holy souls A thorough fascination and attraction to all things Oriental, so endemic in the Russian Pod kush’ami raïskikh sadov, Under the branches of Eden’s garden, psyche, manifested itself in Rimsky-Korsakov’s music on a grand scale. It would be fair to O Boge velicom on pel, He sung of great God call him the most prolific orientalist in the history of Russian music, both by the volume I khvala ïego nepritvorna byla. With earnest and sincere praise. and quality of his oeuvre. The symphonic suite Sheherazade is the finest and most On dushu mladuïu v obïatiïakh n’os He carried a young soul in his embrace memorable example of this trait in his music, alongside Antar, the opera-ballet Mlada, Dl’a mira pechali i sl’oz; For the world of sorrow and tears; extended passages in The Golden Cockrel and Sadko and a few Romances. Rimsky-Korsakov’s I zvuk ïego pesni v dushe molodoï And the sound of his song remained orientalism was nourished to a large extent by the works of the two most significant Russian poets of the nineteenth century – Alexander Pushkin and Michail Lermontov, who both Ostals’a bez slov, no zhivoï. Within the young soul, without words, but alive. visited the southern regions of Caucasus and Crimea on numerous occasions and produced I dolgo na svete tomilas’ ona, The soul languished in this world for long time, a wealth of masterpieces of literature reflecting their impressions, forever shrouding that Zhelaniïem chudnym polna, Full of wondrous yearning, region in a veil of romanticism for the Russians. A flock of passing clouds, describing a I zvukov nebes zamenit’ne mogli And the heavenly sounds could not be replaced locality near the Crimean seaside town of Gurzuf, is an elegy to the evening star (Venus), full Ïeï skuchnyïe pesni zemli. By uninspired songs of earth. of bitter-sweet reminiscences of its opulent surroundings and light enamoured melancholy. The smouldering Caucasian ardour of the poem Your glance is as radiant as the heavens 14 Plenivshis’rosoï, soloveï Op.2, No.2 The rose enchants the nightingale is magnified by a sustained harmonic ellipsis in the piano part as well as by the introduction Aleksey Koltsov (1809-1842) of a rhythmical figure associated with Georgian male folk dance in the middle section. The Plenivshis’ rosoï, soloveï Enchanted by the rose, a nightingale rose enchants a nightingale, a wonderfully refined and distilled example of Rimsky- I den’i noch poïot nad neï; Day and night sings above it; Korsakov’s oriental affinity, although being the earliest in our selection (written in 1866), No rosa molcha pesne vnemlet... But the rose listens silently... remains one of his most popular Romances. Over the years a performing tradition has Na lire tak pevets inoï In that way a poet with his lyre emerged for the tune in the piano postlude to be vocalised by the singer – we are following that tradition on our recording. Poïot dl’a devy molodoï; Sings for a young maiden; A deva milaïa ne znaïet, But the dear maiden knows not © 2017 Dr Sergey Rybin Komu poïot i otchego To whom he sings and why Pechal’ny pesni tak ego. His songs are so full of melancholy.

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15 Nesp’ash’ikh solntse Op.41, No.1 Sun of the sleepless Aleksey Tolstoy after Lord Byron (for example Snow-maiden or The Legend of the Invisible City of Kitezh), invites a global, all- Nesp’ash’ikh solntse, grustnaïa zvezda, Sun of the sleepless, sorrowful star, encompassing view of nature and a human being’s place within it, that certainly transport Kak sl’ozno luch mertsaïet tvoï vsegda, How tearfully your ray always flickers, some of his creations from the sphere of pure entertainment closer to Wagnerian musical Kak temnota pri n’om ïesh’o temneï, How darkness is gloomier around its light, philosophy. When the golden cornfield waves, a setting of a beautiful poem by Michail Lermontov, is no less that a pantheistic hymn of reconciliation with life’s troubles and Kak on pokhozh na prizrak prezhnikh dneï! How it resembles the ghost of the days long gone! difficulties through peace-giving observation of nature, and merging with its simple and Tak svetit proshloïe nam v zhiznennoï nochi, That way the past radiates for us in the night of life, timeless beauty. A similar sentiment dominates Not a sound from the sea, in which the No uzh ne greïut nas bessil’nyïe luchi, But its powerless rays can’t warm us any more, piano accompaniment portrays a calm, mirror-like surface of the ocean, inducing a Zvezda minuvshego, ty v gore mne vidna, Star of the past, I can see you in my bitter hour, reflective mood in the protagonist. Vivid musical descriptions of the elements are so often Vidna, no daleka, svetla, no kholodna. Visible, but far away, glowing, but cold. found in Rimsky-Korsakov’s compositions – which are, perhaps, enhanced by his well 16 Poet Op.45, No.5 The Poet documented synesthetic association between colour and particular tonalities. Water and the Alexander Pushkin sea (The wave crushes, splashes and sprays) are particularly prevalent – the legacy of his years as a sea cadet in his first career, spending nearly 3 years on board the clipper “Almaz” Poka ne trebuïet poeta While the poet is not summoned (he sailed as far as Brazil). However, his music, so often depictive and descriptive, when K sv’ash’ennoï zhertve Apollon, For a sacred oblation by Apollo, understood in this wider context, reveals a profound aesthetical and ethical vision. The V zabotakh suïetnogo sveta In the chores of the mundane world Octave states this view clearly – that Art, poetry and music, is at its best and most graceful On malodushno pogruzhon; He is submerged carelessly; when inspired, instigated and in accord with nature herself. Molchit ïego sv’ataïa lira; His holy lyre is silent; Rimsky-Korsakov is the greatest Russian operatic fabler. Well over half of his operas are set Dusha vkushaïet khladnyï son, His soul partakes cold slumber, to the stories of Russian fairytales. Never before had the sphere of the fantastical blossomed I mezh deteï nichtozhnykh mira, And amongst the feeble creatures of the world so richly in Russian music. Anthropomorphic forces of nature and other whimsical beings Byt’ mozhet, vsekh nichtozhneï on. He is, probably, the feeblest. inhabit his Romances as well. Svitez maiden, a glimpse into the romantic and mysterious No chut’ bozhestvennyï glagol But as soon as Godly accents world of a ballad by Adam Mickiewicz, is reminiscent of musical passages, associated with Do slukha chutkogo kosn’ots’a, Touch the sensitive hearing, underwater happenings, from Sadko and The Legend of the Invisible City of Kitezh. The Dusha poeta vstrepen’ots’a, The poet’s soul shudders alarming muddled sonority of the introduction eventually brightens to reveal a seductive Kak probudivshiïs’a or’ol. Like an awakened eagle. Rusalka-like creature inviting a late-night wanderer to come and play with her in the rippling waters of the lake Svitez – thus betraying the oath of fidelity, given to his beloved, Toskuïet on v zabavakh mira, He is bored amidst worldly gaiety, made of flesh and blood. Another water Nymph appears amongst the reeds to sing of her L’udskoï chuzhdaïets’a molvy, He flees society’s bustle, unrequited love and enchant the passing sailors: the undulating arpeggios in the piano part K nogam narodnogo kumira Before the people’s idol suggest calm waters, while the plasticity and linear expansiveness of the vocal line depict the Ne klonit gordoï golovy; He does not bow his proud head; appealing silhouette of her body and her flowing tresses. Bezhit on, dikiï i surovyï, He escapes, wild and rugged, I zvukov, i sm’at’enïa poln, Full of sounds and turmoil, Through pictures of nature we frequently find a window into the internal sphere of human Na berega pustynnykh voln, To the shores of desolate waves, emotions in Rimsky-Korsakov’s Romances. Against the nocturnal backdrop of Summer V shirokoshumnyïe dubrovy... To the ever roaring oakwoods...

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17 V t’omnoï rosh’e zamolk soloveï Op.4, No.3 In the dark grove, the nightingale is silent soaked up his methods. I was studying his handling of natural brass instruments, which give Ivan Nikitin (1824-1861) his scores untold transparency and lightness, I was learning from his elegant and natural V t’omnoï rosh’e zamolk soloveï, In the dark grove, the nightingale is silent, voicing. That was a beneficial schooling for me, leading towards the path of modern music, Prokatilas’ po nebu zvezda; A star rolled across the sky; after the vicissitudes of counterpoint and strict style.” Mes’ats smotrit skoz’chash’u vetveï, A crescent moon is peering through the branches A rather fecund composer himself – author of 15 operas, 3 symphonies, 79 romances, Zazhigaïet rosu na trave. And sparkles the dew upon the grass. numerous symphonic poems and suites, compositions for chorus and solo piano – Rimsky- Korsakov was also a proactive researcher, editor and champion of the works of many of his Kak pri mes’atse krotok i tikh In the moonlight, how angelic and soft colleagues: preparing new editions of Glinka’s operas; orchestrating Dargomyzhsky’s opera U teb’a milyï ocherk litsa! The silhouette of your dear face! The Stone Guest; finishing and partly orchestrating Borodin’s Prince Igor; engaging in the Etu noch, polnyï gr’oz zolotykh Full of golden dreams, I wish this night monumental work of organising, finishing and publishing the complete works of Musorgsky Ïa b prodlil bez kontsa, bez kontsa! To last forever, forever! – to his tireless and continued altruistic efforts, despite common reproaches for heavy 18 Svitez’anka Op.7, No.3 Svitez maiden editorial interference, we owe the preservation and the beginning of a successful performing Lev Mei (1822-1862) after Adam Mickiewicz (1798-1855) life of many fine works. Paren’ prigozhiï moï, Youth, handsome and comely, While Rimsky-Korsakov’s symphonic works remain extremely popular and some of his Paren’ krasivyï, kto ty? Who are you? operas are also very well known outside Russia, his Romances remain, perhaps, largely Zachem nad Svitezïu burlivoï Why above the roaring Svitez-lake unknown and unfairly neglected. In a letter to a friend, in 1897, Rimsky-Korsakov defined Brodish nenastnoï poroïu? Are you wandering in poor weather? his approach to the genre this way: “I think that in their requests for melodiousness, sing- Bross’a k nam v volny Plunge yourself into the waves ability and expansiveness, singers and the public at large are right... short melodies, I budem kruzhit’s’a vmeste po zybi And let us swirl fragmentation, music departing from harmonies and demand for dissonances – are things in themselves undesirable... There was a time (I remember it) in the sixties, when the majority Khrustal’noï so mnoïu. Together in the crystal ripple. of Chopin’s melodies were considered weak and cheap music... But nevertheless, pure melody, Khochesh, moï milyï, If you would like, my dear, deriving from Mozart, through Chopin and Glinka is alive up till now, and has to remain I lastochkoï shibkoï As a swift swallow alive, for without it the fate of music is decadence.” By his own admission he viewed Budesh nad ozerom mchat’s’a, You could fly over the lake, Romances, particularly in later life, as an étude, a study for finding and perfecting new ideas Ili krasivoï ves’oloïu rybkoï Or as a beautiful jolly fish and methods before implementing them in an operatic context. Comparable in volume and Tselyï den’budesh ty v struïkakh pleskat’s’a? The entire day you could splash in the streams? significance to the output of Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninov, Rimsky-Korsakov’s chamber Nochïu na lozhe volny serebristoï At night, the bed of the silvery wave vocal compositions fully reflect the range of traits and features we find in his larger works. Landysheï my nabrosaïem, We’ll cover with lilies of the valley, One of the most prevalent themes we can trace throughout his music is a particular affinity Sladko zadremlem pod senïu struistoï, In languorous slumber under the streaming cover with the sounds and forces of nature, an inclination towards pantheistic contemplation and Divnyïe gr’ozy uznaïem! We’ll have wondrous dreams! a fusion with creation as a whole – comparisons with Wagner and his outlook upon the world have often been drawn on that basis. The mythological context of Rimsky-Korsakov’s works

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19 Ne penits’a more Op.46, No.2 Not a sound from the sea Aleksey Tolstoy approach to composition technique, diligent attention to all aspects of craft, an urge to Ne penits’a more, ne plesh’et volna, The sea doesn’t spume, the wave doesn’t splash, tame the musical anarchy and dilettantism, elevating the composer’s skill to an art, were Derevïa listami ne dvinut; The leaves don’t move on the trees, undoubtedly the cornerstones of Rimsky-Korsakov’s professional credo. “Harmony and Na gladi prozrachnoï tsarit tishina, Upon the translucent surface reigns silence, counterpoint, providing very many sonorities of great variety and complexity, certainly have their boundaries, trespassing which we find ourselves in the area of disharmony and Kak v zerkale mir oprokinut. The world is turned upside down as if in a mirror. cacophony...”, he wrote. A European in his composing technique, while being firmly rooted Sizhu ïa na kanme, vis’at oblaka I sit on a stone, the clouds in the unmistakably Russian musical tradition, Rimsky-Korsakov actively pushed the Nedvizhnyïe v sinem prostore; Hang motionless in the blue vastness; confines in the sphere of harmony, in no small part through usage of the whole-tone Dusha bezm’atezhna, dusha gluboka, My soul is serene and profound (consisting of whole tones) and octatone (consisting of alternating tones and semitones) Srodni ïeï spokoïnoïe more. Akin to the tranquil sea. scales – which opens up possibilities for a wider harmonic palette and relations between tonalities. It is widely noted that these harmonic innovations and expansions profoundly 20 Medlitel’no vlekuts’a dni moi Op.51, No.1 Slowly drag my days influenced the young Ravel, who encountered Russian music as a first year piano student Alexander Pushkin of the Paris Conservatoire during the aforementioned concerts at Exposition Universelle. Medlitel’no vlekuts’a dni moi, Slowly drag my days, There is a curious ironic passage in Ravel’s article in La Revue Musical (1912) in which he I kazhdyï mig v uv’adshem serdtse mnozhit Every moment amplifies in my withered heart defends Debussy against accusations of lacking originality. It reveals a certain opinion in Vse goresti neschastlivoï l’ubvi All woes of unrequited love Parisian musical circles at the time: “We have already learnt that in the discovery of his I t’azhkoïe bezumiïe trevozhit. And agonizing madness troubles me. harmonic system he [Debussy] was wholly indebted to Eric Satie; for features of his theatre, No ïa molchu; ne slyshen ropot moï; But I am silent; my grumble is not heard; to Mussorgsky; for his instrumentation, to Rimsky-Korsakov... Despite of his lack of talent, Ïa sl’ozy lïu; mne sl’ozy uteshenïe. I shed tears; tears are my consolation. there is nothing remains to him except being the most significant, most deeply musical Moïa dusha, obïataïa toskoï, My soul, consumed by grief, amongst modern composers.” As this extract suggests, during his lifetime Rimsky-Korsakov V nikh gor’koïe nakhodit naslazhdenïe. Finds bitter pleasure in tears. was already admired and revered for his unique talent for orchestration (his studybook Oh, zhizni son! Leti, ne zhal’teb’a, Oh, illusion of life! Fly by, I don’t value you, “Foundations of Orchestration” was published shortly after his death). Symphonic works Ischezni v t’me, pustoïe prividenïe; Vanish in darkness, meaningless ghost; like Antar, Russian Easter Festival Overture, Capriccio Espagnol, Sheherazade and, of course Mne dorogo l’ubvi moïeï muchenïe, I treasure the torment of my love, the music of his operas, demonstrate, with full flair, his mastery of orchestral colours and Puskaï umru, no pust’umru l’ub’a! Let me die, but let me die being in love! textures and had proven to be a great influence on the French school in particular. In his approach to instrumentation (as well as operatic dramaturgy) Rimsky-Korsakov was a self- No pust’umru l’ub’a! Let me die being in love! confessed follower of Michail Glinka, whom he greatly admired: “Working with Glinka’s scores was an unexpected education for me. Before these times I knew and adored his operas, but editing his scores for printing, forced me to go through the textures and instrumentation to the last minute little note. There were no boundaries to my fascination and reverence of such a great man. He does everything with such sophistication, but simple and natural at the same time – and with what knowledge of voices and instruments! I avidly

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RIMSKY-KORSAKOV ROMANCES 21 Krasavitsa Op.51, No.4 The Beauty During the Exposition Universelle of 1889 in Paris, famous among other things for adding Alexander Pushkin the Eiffel Tower to Paris’ skyline, on the opposite side of the Seine, at the Palais du Trocadéro, Vs’o v neï garmoniïa, vs’o divo, Everything in her is harmony, a marvel, on 22 and 29 June, Paris audiences were treated to two concerts of Russian music organized Vs’o vyshe mira i strasteï, Everything is above the world and passions, and financed by prominent arts parton and publisher Mitrofan Belyaev. Under the direction Ona pokoits’a stydlivo She rests modestly of Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov on the conductor’s podium, a comprehensive selection of V krase torzhestvennoï svoïeï; Within her solemn beauty; Russian music was presented, including Glinka’s Ruslan and Ludmila and Kamarinskaïa overtures, the first movement of Tchaikovsky’s 1st Piano Concerto, Musorgsky’s Night on a Ona krugom seb’a vziraïet: She looks around: bare Mountain, Borodin’s Polovtsian Dances from Prince Igor and Rimsky-Korsakov’s own Ïeï net sopernits, net pordrug; There are no rivals or equals to her, Piano Concerto, symphonic poem Antar and Capriccio Espagnol. The interest towards the Inykh krasavits blednyï krug The usual pale circle of beauties Russian composer’s school, perhaps nurtured by these events, and its increasing influence in V ïeïo siïanïi ischezaïet. Disappears in her brilliance. Europe would eventually culminate during the early years of the twentieth century in a huge Kuda by ty ne pospeshal, Wherever you are hurrying, creative outburst of Russian Art, closely associated with the name of Sergey Dyagilev. Nearly Khot’ na l’ubovnoïe svidanïe, Even to a love assignation, eighteen years later, in May 1907, just a few months before his death, Rimsky-Korsakov returned to Paris to conduct a few of his own compositions as part of five Historic Russian Kakoïe b v serdtse ni pital Harbouring within your heart Concerts. Met with admiration, success and recognition befitting one of the most significant Ty sokrovennoïe mechtanïe, A secret yearning – composers of the turn of the century, Rimsky-Korsakov was venerated by the public and No, vtret’as’s neï, smush’onnyï, ty Meeting her, you feel perplexed greeted by Camille Saint-Saëns, Richard Strauss, Rachmaninov, Skryabin and members of Vdrug ostanovishs’a nevol’no, And stop involuntarily, Russian aristocracy during this visit. Blagogov’eïa bogomol’no Piously revering Pered sv’atyneï krasoty. The sanctity of beauty. Rimsky-Korsakov cuts a towering and extremely diverse figure on the Russian musical horizon of the second half of the nineteenth century. His career spans from the mid-1860s, when the Russian composer’s school was still in its early youth, to the beginning of the new century, by which time it has become a fully-fledged and unique phenomenon in European art. It is hard to think of another person during that time who was so consistently instrumental in nurturing the national composer’s school as Rimsky-Korsakov, both in his own works and as a professor of St Petersburg Conservatoire. Aged 27, in summer 1871, he began a nearly 37-year career as professor of orchestral class, composition and instrumentation, and there is hardly any Russian composer of note in that period of time who did not pass through Rimsky-Korsakov’s class – Glazunov, Lyadov, Arensky, Stravinsky, Grechaninov, Taneyev, Prokofiev, Myaskovsky, to name just a handful. Following the publication of the first ever Russian Manual of Harmony created by Tchaikovsky in 1874, Rimsky-Korsakov, on the basis of his own experience of teaching this subject, followed up in 1886 with his “Practical studybook of Harmony”. A scholarly, learned

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22 Anchar Op.49, No.1 The Upas Tree Alexander Pushkin V pustyne chakhloï i skupoï, Amid a desert, arid and bare, Na pochve, znoïem raskalennoï, In soil, flaming with heat, Anchar, kak groznyï chasovoï, The Upas tree, like a fearsome guard, Stoit odin vo vseï vselennoï. Stands alone in the entire universe.

Priroda zhazhdush’ikh stepeï The nature of the barren steppes 13 Across the midnight sky (Angel) (Mikhail Lermontov) b 3’34 Ïego v den’ gneva porodila Created it in the day of wrath I zelen’ mertvuïu vetveï, And soaked with deadly poison 14 The rose enchants the nightingale (Aleksey Koltsov) a 3’08 I korni ïadom napoila. Its green branches and its roots. 15 Sun of the sleepless (Aleksey Tolstoy after Lord Byron) b 1’56 Ïad kaplet skvoz’ ïego koru, The poison percolates through its bark 16 The Poet (Alexander Pushkin) a 2’36 K poludn’u rastop’as’ ot znoïu, Melting from the midday heat, I zastyvaïet vvecheru And congeals by evening 17 In the dark grove, the nightingale is silent (Ivan Nikitin) b 2’49 Gustoï, prozrachnoïu smoloïu. Into a dense translucent resin. 18 Svitez maiden (Lev Mei after Adam Mickiewicz) a 3’26 K nemu i ptitsa ne letit, Birds nor beasts roam not near it: 19 Not a sound from the sea (Aleksey Tolstoy) b 2’07 I zver’ neïd’ot: lish vikhor’chornyï Only a black whirlwind Na drevo smerti nabezhit – Occasionally would fly nearby – 20 Slowly drag my days (Alexander Pushkin) b 2’27 I mchits’a proch uzhe tletvornyï. And rush away, but already deadly. 21 The Beauty (Alexander Pushkin) a 2’37 I ïesli tucha orosit, And if a wondering cloud would sprinkle 22 The Upas Tree (Alexander Pushkin) b 4’38 Bluzhdaïa, list ïego dremuchiï, Upon its dense foliage, S ïego vetveï uzh ïadovit From its branches, the toxic rain 23 Not the wind blowing from on high (Aleksey Tolstoy) a 2’01 Stekaïet dozhd’ v pesok gor’uchiï. Flows down into the sizzling sand. 24 The Prophet (Alexander Pushkin) b 4’09 No cheloveka chelovek But a human sent another human Poslal k ancharu vlastnym vzgl’adom; To the Upas tree with a commanding glance; 65’36 I on poslushno v put’ pot’ok, And he obediently set off on a journey, I k utru vozvratils’a s ïadom. Returning by the morning with the poison. Anush Hovhannisyan soprano a Yuriy Yurchuk baritone b Sergey Rybin piano

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RIMSKY-KORSAKOV ROMANCES Prin’os on smertnuïu smolu He brought back the deadly resin Da vetv’ s uv’adshimi listami, And a branch with withered leaves; I pot po blednomu chelu The sweat across his pale face Struils’a khladnymi ruchïami; Was flowing in cold streams. Prin’os i oslabel, i l’og He weakened and laid down NIKOLAI RIMSKY-KORSAKOV (1844-1908) Pod svodom shalasha na lyki, Under a tent upon a trestle-bed, 1 The lark’s song is ringing louder (Aleksey Tolstoy) a 1’14 I umer bednyï rab u nog And the poor slave died Nepobedimogo vladyki. By the feet of an unconquerable sovereign. 2 The wave crushes, splashes and sprays (Aleksey Tolstoy) b 1’23 A tsar’tem ïadom napital Meanwhile the Tsar drenched with that poison 3 In moments to delight devoted (Ivan Kozlov after Lord Byron) a 1’07 Svoi poslushlivyïe strely His obedient arrows I s nimi gibel’ razoslal And sent around death 4 Nymph (Apollon Maikov) a 3’33 Sosed’am v chuzhdyïe predely. To neighbours in foreign lands. 5 The Octave (Apollon Maikov) b 1’52 23 Ne veter, veïa s vysoty Op.43, No.2 Not the wind blowing from on high 6 The Echo (Sergey Andreevsky after François Coppée) b 2’17 Aleksey Tolstoy 7 Summer night’s dream (Apollon Maikov) a 5’37 Ne veter, veïa s vysoty, Not the wind blowing from on high Listov kosnuls’a nochïu lunnoï – Has touched the leaves in the moonlit night – 8 When the golden cornfield waves (Mikhail Lermontov) b 3’23 Moïeï dushi kosnulas’ty: My soul has been touched by you: Ona trevozhna, kak listy, It is aflutter, like the leaves, 9 On Georgian hills (Alexander Pushkin) b 1’58 Ona, kak gusli, mnogostrunna! It is as sensitive as the lyre’s strings. 10 A flock of passing clouds (Alexander Pushkin) a 3’33 Zhiteïskiï vikhr’ ïeïo terzal, The blizzard of life was tearing it apart, I sokrushitel’nym nabegom, And with the crushing attack, 11 Your glance is as radiant as the heavens (Mikhail Lermontov) b 2’06 Svist’a i voïa struny rval Whistling and howling, tore the strings, 12 Of what I dream in the quiet night (Apollon Maikov) a 2’04 I zanosil kholodnym snegom; And covered my soul with icy snow; Tvoïa zhe rech laskaïet slukh, But your voice caresses my hearing, Tvoïo legko prikosnovenïe, Your touch is as light Kak ot tsvetov let’ash’iï pukh, As the down flying from the flowers, Kak maïskoï nochi dunovenïe. Like a breeze of the May night.

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24 Prorok Op.49, No.2 The Prophet Alexander Pushkin Dukhovnoï zhazhdoïu tomim Tormented by spiritual anguish V pustyne mrachnoï ïa vlachils’a, I dragged myself through a grim desert, I shestikrylyï serafim And a six-winged seraphim Na pereputïe mne ïavils’a; Appeared to me at a crossroads; RIMSKY-KORSAKOV Perstami l’ogkimi, kak son, With his fingers, light as a dream, Moikh zenits kosnuls’a on: He touched my eyes: ROMANCES Otverzlis’ vesh’iïe zenitsy, They burst open wide, all-seeing, Kak u ispugannoï orlitsy. Like those of a startled eagle. Moikh usheï kosnuls’a on, He touched my ears I ikh napolnil shum i zvon: And they were filled with clamour and ringing: I vn’al ïa neba sodroganïe, I heard the rumbling of the heavens, I gorniï angelov pol’ot, The high flight of the angels, I gad morskikh podvodnyï khod, The crawling of the underwater reptilians I dol’ney lozy proz’abanïe. And the germinating of the grapevine in the valleys. I on k ustam moim prinik He pressed against my lips I vyrval greshnyï moï ïazyk, And tore out my tongue, I prazdnoslovnyï, i lukavyï, Both exuberant and sly, I zhalo mydryïa zmei And into my frozen lips V usta zamerzshiïe moi The sting of a wise snake Vlozhil desnitseïu krovavoï. He pushed with his bloody hand. I on mne grud’ rass’ok mechom, He cleaved my chest with a sword I serdtse trepetnoïe vynul, And took out my trembling heart, I ugl’, pylaïush’iï ogn’om, And thrust into my opened breast Vo grud’ otverstuïu vodvinul. A flaming piece of coal. Kak trup, v pustyne ïa lezhal. I lay in the desert like a corps. Anush Hovhannisyan I Boga glas ko mne vozzval: And God’s voice called to me: “Vosstan’, prorok, i vizhd’, i vnemli, “Arise, my prophet, behold and hark, Yuriy Yurchuk Ispolnis’ voleïu moïeï Submit to my will, Sergey Rybin I, obkhod’a mor’a i zemli, And, traveling across the seas and lands, Glagolom zhgi serdtsa l’udeï.” Spark people’s hearts with verse.”

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Produced, engineered and edited by Spencer Cozens. Recorded 19-21 December 2016 at Steinway Recording, Fulbeck, Lincolnshire, U.K. Steinway technician: Peter Roscoe. Publisher: Moscow, Musyka. Booklet notes © 2017 Sergey Rybin. English translations of sung text © 2017 Sergey Rybin. Cover: Photograph © 2013 Anatoly Sokolov. Inside from cover: Photograph of Sergey Rybin, Anush Hovhannisyan and Yuriy Yurchuk © 2017 Inna Kostukovsky. Graphic design: Colour Blind Design. Printed in the E.U.

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5060192780772 RIMSKY-KORSAKOV ROMANCES

Anush Hovhannisyan Yuriy Yurchuk Sergey Rybin

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