Outside Russia, Miaskovsky is probably best known, and then only by repute, as the composer of a long series of symphonies – 27 in all, of which 11 are currently available on record. In his own country, his reputation remains secure for qualities of musical integrity that meant much to his colleagues, one of the most admiring of whom was Prokofiev, and to his pupils, who included Kabalevsky and Khachaturian. A good deal of his early music is searching, not exactly experimental but certainly interesting itself in new means of expression that do not part company with traditional techniques and values. Later, he was willing to try to write more directly, finding the ideal of composing for popular Soviet consumption by no means unsympathetic so long as it made no artistic compromises. This did not save him from Zhdanov’s abuse at the notorious 1948 tribunal, when he was bracketed with Shostakovich and Prokofiev as a ‘formalist’. Already ill, he did not speak in his defence but wrote as his last works his Thirteenth String Quartet and Twenty-seventh Symphony. After his death in 1950, it was safe to award him a Stalin Prize.

The quartets reflect these qualities. With the very earliest, there is music that explores new approaches to tonality, as in the very opening of No. 1 and in its Andante sostenuto, where the violin sets off with a wide-ranging melody that owes a good deal of its nature to Russian folk example. In later works, there is a similar tonal ambiguity, sometimes suggesting knowledge of Bartok, sometimes reflecting the harmonic side-slips and novel tonal polarities of Hindemith, exceptionally – in the Trio to the Scherzo fantastico of No. 7 – bringing the music under bitonal pressures.

The lyricism is constant; so are several other characteristics running through these works. One is melancholy, manifest most overtly in the Quartet No. 8 written in memory of a friend but recurring as a distinguishing feature in a number of them, with movements that are marked malincolico, lugubre, lagrimabile. Perhaps connected to this is a somewhat enigmatic manner in many of the faster movements, with music attracting the qualifications inquieto, misterioso, pensieroso, tenebroso, fantastico, sussurando. Proposals of scherzando or energico or giocoso e festivo are rarer; and even then, the music bears a sense of effort. Miaskovsky’s sheer musical skill – agreeably shown in the long set of variations on a Grieg lullaby which concludes the two-movement No. 3 – sees to it that this is music unfailingly crafted, approachable and effective.

For those who are curious, perhaps a reasonable sampler would be the record containing No. 2 (1930), a well-contrasted piece, No. 6 (1940), with its capricious burlesque movement and one of the composer’s most heartfelt lamentations, and No. 10 (1945). The Taneyev Quartet give performances that clearly reflect great faith in the music, and the recordings are level and clear.

John Warrack
Gramophone, December 1996