The opening movement of Edison Denisov's 1975 piano concerto, with its strident brass and its fractionalized, all-over-the-keyboard, very atonal piano part, basically challenges the listener either to get into an avant-garde frame of mind or to not bother moving forward in the music at all. Indeed, one has difficulty imagining how such a work could have been produced (never mind performed) in the midst of the stiflingly -- and dangerously -- Philistine musical climate that still gripped the Soviet Union in the mid-1970s. Yet even in the midst of the musical upheaval that sets the concerto on its course, there is something in Denisov's style -- perhaps most particularly the interplay between timbre and complex rhythmic figures -- that grips the sensibilities in a way that mere modernistic posturing could never do. And then there is the second movement, which mobilizes strings (absent from the first movement) and winds in an extended, meditational dialog with the piano and which, in its sharp-edged quiescence, acts as the spiritual inversion of the first movement.
There is one particularly effective moment here where the mid-range strings slide into microtones that then pile up into hushed, sostenuto clusters. Toward the end, additional timbres from bells and vibraphone seem to carry the music deeply into outer or inner space -- or both. The Finale revives, but in a more temperate mood, the spirit of the initial movement. We also get the new sound of a tenor saxophone, which eventually is joined by a whole chorus of saxophones. Almost inevitably, these give way to an interval of conventional bop jazz, complete with trap set and bass. Even here, however, a tonal center is nowhere to be found. Although I feel certain that those of conservative musical tastes will never agree with me, I find Denisov's piano concerto to be an immensely captivating and surprisingly accessible work. It receives what sounds, since I do not have access to the score, like a brilliant performance from veteran pianist Günter Philipp. I am a pianist -- well, sort of -- and yet I continue to marvel at how a soloist such as Philipp can master with such élan the split-second intricacies that characterize much of the piano writing in the first and last movements. Philipp not only performs the solo part with mind-boggling accuracy, he also creates a sense of continuity that keeps the listener -- or at least kept this listener -- totally absorbed in the music, whether in the scintillating shards of the outer movements or the extended but off-center lyricism of the central movement. He also balances his tone admirably against the challenges from other instrumental timbres. And what Philipp accomplishes at the piano, Wolf-Dieter Hauschild and the Leipzig Radio Symphony Orchestra accomplish as an ensemble. The rich and warm recorded sound does a particularly good job of maintaining the balance between soloist and orchestra.

Were it not for the solidly non- and nearly atonal harmonic language, one could imagine Denisov's Peinture from 1970 as being a work by Debussy or Ravel, which, given the work's French title and the composer's involvement in the French language at the time, may not be an accident. Other parts of Peinture, particularly those in which the composer mobilizes a pointillistic shower of bell and vibraphone timbres, suggest a much more recent French composer, Pierre Boulez. Alban Berg also comes to mind here and there. And yet when this generally placid work reaches its climax, the listener can definitely sense the composer's Russian origins, particularly at the moment when, after a buildup of almost Shostakovian intensity, the low brass announce a dramatic theme over a timpani roll and chime. Like the piano concerto, Peinture should attract more listeners than it will probably get, which is a shame, since Denisov's is a major voice in contemporary music. I can imagine a more polished performance with greater attention to pitch values here and there than the one turned in by Hauschild and the Berlin Radio Symphony Orchestra, and the sound does not always appear to be on sure footing. But these are minor distractions, and I would put up with a good deal worse than this to have access to this engrossing work. Strongly recommended.

Royal S. Brown
(From: Fanfare, January/February 1997)

While Schnittke and Gubaidulina are still the dominant post-Soviet composers in the new listings, Edison Denisov is quietly accumulating a decent-sized listing in the catalog. The piano concerto appears to be a CD debut, while Peinture makes its third appearance in the format. Neither work is new the 1975 concerto being the more recent one. It opens more in the manner of a concerto for piano vs orchestra; with a clangorous, disjunct, Babbitt-like solo part clamoring out over blaring, arcing brass. Throughout the chromatic and angular first movement, great surges of sound wash over the listener. A quieter, more lyrical Adagio, the second movement is the longest of the concerto's three movements. Both sides soften their stance and come together as the soloist quietly harmonizes on the orchestra's peace offering. The third movement Finale, marked Agitato molto, briefly reprises and reflects on the first two movements before going off in a completely different direction. Denisov introduces a Scherzoso section that includes solo episodes, inspired by free jazz, by the saxophone, percussion, and the piano. Things get more chaotic; then, one chord and it's all over. With its brash eclecticism and wide range, the concerto seems in many ways the product of a kindred spirit of Frank Zappa. Fine performances from both the Leipzig Orchestra and pianist Günter Philipp.

Composed in 1970, Peinture is gorgeously orchestrated, with copious use of bells and other ringing percussion. Here, Denisov's serially derived writing often sounds chromatic and, occasion, assumes an Ivesian polytonality. Parallel movements of dark/light/dark and soft/loud/soft occur over its 11:54 duration.

Compared to Tadaki Otaka and the BBC National Orchestra of Wales on BIS CD-665, Hauschild and his Berliners sound slightly tentative.

NoNoise has been used very discreetly; indeed, there is audible hiss in the concerto's second movement. Although the sound has great immediacy, the dynamic range in Peinture could be more open. With an ungenerous 39:26TT, Berlin Classics could also have been more generous with a filler or two. They certainly have a large enough archive of GDR composers from which to draw, and much by Matthus, Kochan, Geissler, Katzer, and landsmen still awaits reissue. And the inimitably named Fidelio Finke is still unrepresented on CD. Nevertheless, recommended for the curious and fascinating piano concerto.

Benjamin Pernick (From: Fanfare, January/February 1997)