Welcome to Hyperion Records, an independent British classical label devoted to presenting high-quality recordings of music of all styles and from all periods from the twelfth century to the twenty-first.

Hyperion offers both CDs, and downloads in a number of formats. The site is also available in several languages.

Please use the dropdown buttons to set your preferred options, or use the checkbox to accept the defaults.

Click cover art to view larger version
Track(s) taken from CDA67941/2

Cello Suite No 3, Op 87

composer
early spring 1971 by April; first performed by dedicatee Mstislav Rostroprovich at the Maltings, Snape on 21 December 1974; first three themes from Tchaikovsky's folk-song arrangements, fourth from Kontakion

Alban Gerhardt (cello)
Studio Master FLAC & ALAC downloads available
CD-Quality:
Studio Master:
CD-Quality:
Studio Master:
Recording details: December 2011
Henry Wood Hall, London, United Kingdom
Produced by Andrew Keener
Engineered by David Hinitt
Release date: January 2013
Total duration: 20 minutes 57 seconds

Cover artwork: Valerian Glory at Aldeburgh (2012) by Mita Higton
www.artsumitra.co.uk
 

Other recordings available for download

Matthew Barley (cello)
Steven Isserlis (cello)
Jamie Walton (cello)
Tim Hugh (cello)

Reviews

‘Given Gerhardt's fine Britten credentials, this makes a recommendable package: performances are well judged, with clean-cut rhythms and good attention to detail’ (Gramophone)

‘Gerhardt plunges into the labyrinthine mazes of the solo suites and strikes gold. This is a real tour de force: in such late works Britten reached expressive extremities found nowhere else in his oeuvre. Gerhardt is a fearless guide, blazing a trail with utter conviction, his powerful rhythmic impetus pulling us through each intricate chamber … last but not least his reading of Britten's Sonata with Steven Osborne is utterly thrilling. A must-have set for all Britten enthusiasts’ (BBC Music Magazine)

‘This poetic, virtuosic player makes a powerful case for the three unaccompanied Cello Suites’ (The Observer)

‘There is every reason to explore this set with Alban Gerhardt. He is fully in command of the technical subtleties, detailed expressive facets and structural scope of the Cello Symphony, and Andrew Manze … has the measure of the music's spectrum of deep reflectiveness and dramatic force. Strongly and sensitively partnered by Steven Osborne, Gerhardt gives a wonderfully vital performance of the Cello Sonata, alert to the cunning interplay between the two instruments and to the rhythmic wiliness that characterises the opening movement … in the solo suites … Gerhardt's playing is supple, richly coloured and articulated with the utmost finesse. These performances demonstrate a mature affinity with Britten's personal style in an important and compelling body of music’ (The Daily Telegraph)

‘The listener is struck by the remarkable variety and richness of sound the composer conjures up from a single instrument, rather than any feeling of limitation. Alban Gerhardt's performances underline this impresssion: his tone is gorgeously opulent and he revels in the composer's aural inventiveness … Gerhardt produces a stunning range of colour in 'Bordone' and uncannily transforms his cello into a guitar in 'Serenata' … the brilliance of the cellist's playing, as well as his vision of the work, is more than matched by the outstanding pianism of Steven Osborne. The Cello Symphony is one of Britten's supreme masterpieces’ (International Record Review)

‘Here we have Britten at the height of his powers, inspired by the charismatic personality of one of the 20th century's greatest musicians … the Cello Symphony is less frequently performed than the more accessible earlier concertos, but Gerhardt makes one of the strongest cases for it on disc … he truly comes into his own in the solo suites’ (The Sunday Times)

‘This is a brilliant anthology, wonderfully performed and beautifully recorded’ (TheArtsDesk.com)
To begin with Benjamin Britten, our national musical icon from after World War II until the time of his death: all of Britten’s mature works for cello were composed for his great friend Mstislav Rostropovich (although I’m sure I remember another friend of his, the French cellist Maurice Gendron, saying that he had an earlier piece for cello by Britten; there seems to be no trace of it, however, so perhaps I’m imagining things). The sequence began in 1961 with Britten’s Sonata for cello and piano in C, Op 65, a masterly, almost neo-classical work. This was followed in 1963 by the monumental, profound Symphony for cello and orchestra, Op 68 (seen by some today as Britten’s very greatest masterpiece), and then by two suites for solo cello (1964 and ’67 respectively). Finally came the two works presented here, both belonging firmly to Britten’s late period: his third suite (1971) and the short Sacher theme (1976, the year of Britten’s death).

The history of his third suite is a tormented one—in keeping with the music itself, based as it is on four Russian themes which range in mood from poignant to tragic. Written in early 1971, the suite had to wait until the end of 1974 for its premiere, for political reasons. In October 1970, Rostropovich had written an open letter protesting at the Soviet authorities’ treatment of the writer Alexander Solzhenitsyn. From having been a favoured star of the Soviet system, allowed to travel all over the world, Rostropovich (or ‘Slava’—meaning ‘glory’—as he was known to his friends) was suddenly in disgrace, permitted to perform within the Soviet Union but barred from international travel, and humiliated at every turn. In April 1971, nevertheless, Britten somehow obtained permission to feature Rostropovich and Richter (who was also in a dicey position by that point) as soloists with the London Symphony Orchestra for a festival of British music in Moscow. He took the manuscript of the newly completed suite with him, and played it through on the piano at Rostropovich’s apartment to a select gathering made up of the Rostropoviches, the Shostakoviches, Peter Pears, Pears’s niece Sue Phipps, and the cellist and author Elizabeth Wilson (pupil of Rostropovich, and daughter of the then British Ambassador to the Soviet Union, Sir Duncan Wilson). The piece was much lauded by those present—even though Britten felt that he’d played it too fast. The atmosphere soured somewhat, however, when Shostakovich remarked that he’d been brought up with a slightly different version of the last and most important of the four themes on which the suite is based, the Kontakion, an Orthodox chant for the dead (known in English as ‘Grant repose together with the saints’). Britten, having based several of the movements on this chant, was distraught, wondering aloud how he could possibly alter the music to incorporate the changes. Later, no doubt to his intense relief, he was assured by authorities within the Russian Orthodox Church that both versions were valid (as Shostakovich, feeling dreadful at having upset his friend, had immediately suggested), and he contented himself by adding an ossia offering Shostakovich’s version as an alternative where the theme is heard in full at the end of the suite. (I play the original.)

So what was in Britten’s mind as he composed this extraordinary music? It has been suggested that the dark, foreboding atmosphere of much of the suite is a reflection of his concern for Rostropovich’s dangerous situation. I’m sure that there is some truth to that—how could he not have been affected by those circumstances? But I feel also that there is a deeper, more universal inspiration here—that the suite offers us a profound meditation on death. Aside from the Kontakion, the other three themes are all taken from collections of folk-song arrangements by Tchaikovsky—the one entitled ‘Autumn’ being set for children’s voices; the words of all three are concerned, more or less, with mortality. Mournful song (‘Under the little apple tree’) and Street song (‘The grey eagle’) feature grieving lovers, while Autumn offers a doleful portrait of fallen leaves in the cold wind. For curiosity’s sake, we have added to this recording versions, for cello and piano, of the three Tchaikovsky settings, plus a multi-track version of ‘Grant repose’ in the adaptation used by Britten, which is to be found in The English Hymnal, edited by organist and composer Sir Walter Parratt (1841-1924—private organist to Queen Victoria, no less). For me, the interest of encountering these themes in earlier incarnations is heightened by observing the skill with which Britten has altered and adapted them for the purposes of his suite.

The work is composed in the ‘reverse variation’ form—i.e. the themes appearing after, not before, the variations—also used by Britten in two Dowland-inspired works: the Nocturnal for guitar, and Lachrymae for viola. The suite opens with the lowest note on the cello, an open C string, played pizzicato; this is sounded repeatedly through the ‘Introduzione’, underpinning a melodic line derived from ‘Grant repose’—as if one priest, and then two, were intoning a prayer for the departed, to the accompaniment of funeral bells. This is followed by a more energetic ‘Marcia’, based on ‘The grey eagle’, the bellicose march contrasted with elements of the chant. This movement then melts into a ‘Canto’ (based on ‘Under the little apple tree’), a series of gentle sighs, which is in turn succeeded by what appears to be a tribute to Bach’s first cello suite: a flowing ‘Barcarola’ derived from Autumn. From there the music becomes more complex, a ‘Dialogo’ (possibly suggested by Musorgsky’s ‘Samuel Goldenberg and Schmuyle’ from Pictures from an exhibition?) between opposing aggressive fragments taken from ‘The grey eagle’, and calm pizzicato answers stemming from ‘Grant repose’. Halfway through this movement, it is as if the first voice resigns itself to the inescapable reality of death; from angry protests, the abrupt rhythmic patterns fade to soft floating, culminating in a gentle drift down to earth. An expressive ‘Fuga’, based on Autumn, follows, and then a total change of atmosphere: an eerie ‘Recitativo’ entitled ‘Fantastico’, in which strange, disjointed splinters of musical material are sounded briefly before flitting away into the shadows. (I have a question about a little phrase here, although I’m aware that I could easily be barking up the wrong shrub: one isolated figure consists of the notes E flat and A, a tritone. It seems to me that there is no obvious tritone in any of the themes; I wonder whether Britten might have been quoting instead the two musical letters of the name Slava: S—Es or E flat—and A? Maybe …) The spectral atmosphere carries over into the presto which follows, a scurrying ‘Moto perpetuo’ which brings to mind Chopin’s ‘wind howling through the graves’ in the last movement of his ‘funeral march’ sonata. Finally, the most substantial movement of all: an extensive ‘Passacaglia’, the main theme taken from ‘Grant repose’, firmly stating its cold purpose deep within the cavernous lower reaches of the cello, while the upper voice weeps and pleads in falling semitones. The intensity develops until the upper voice lets forth a melodious cry of anguish. And then—somehow making the whole meaning of the work clear in retrospect—we hear the four themes themselves, moving in their simplicity and expressive appeal. The third suite, like Britten’s even later third string quartet, takes us on a deeply affecting emotional and spiritual journey, bidding us a sombre farewell; it ends as it began—on the cello’s lowest, darkest note.

Rostropovich had been scheduled to perform the suite at the 1972 Aldeburgh Festival. Forced to cancel his trip just a few days before he had been supposed to travel (ironically, cruelly, Shostakovich was permitted to attend the festival), he wrote in desperation to Britten: ‘Ben, your suite is sheer genius. If they forbid me going abroad for a long time, please give me permission to play it for the first time in Moscow.’ This too was disallowed, however. Finally, in 1974, he was ignominiously dismissed by the Soviet authorities, and forced into exile; on 21 December that year he was at last able to give the premiere of the (now slightly revised) suite in the main concert hall of the Aldeburgh Festival, the Maltings at Snape. As can be imagined, it was a deeply emotional and memorable occasion—and I’m happy to report that I was there! I remember looking at Britten, sitting there, inscrutable, in the gloom of the box. In more recent years, I have performed the suite several times in that hall; each time, I look into the obscurity of the box and wonder whether Britten’s ghost might just be there …

from notes by Steven Isserlis © 2021

La Suite nº 3, achevée au printemps 1971, ne fut jouée par son dédicataire qu’en décembre 1974 en raison de sévères restrictions dans ses déplacements imposées par les autorités soviétiques à cause de son amitié avec l’écrivain dissident Alexandre Soljénitsyne. C’est un hommage à l’héritage russe de Rostropovitch qui prend la forme de variations sur quatre thèmes traditionnels russes. Les trois premiers sont empruntés aux volumes d’arrangements de chansons traditionnelles de Tchaïkovski («Sous le pommier», «Automne» et «L’Aigle gris») et le quatrième est le Kontakion ou hymne aux défunts. La dernière suite fonctionne en sens inverse, en repoussant l’exposition de ces thèmes jusqu’à la fin, après toutes les variations. Bien que les mouvements s’enchaînent sans interruption, chaque variation est une pièce de caractère indépendante. Après l’Introduzione initiale, viennent une Marcia, Canto, Barcarola, Dialogo, Fuga, Recitativo, Moto perpetuo et une Passacaglia finale.

extrait des notes rédigées par Mervyn Cooke © 2013
Français: Marie-Stella Pâris

Die Suite Nr. 3 wurde im Frühling 1971 fertiggestellt, allerdings erst im Dezember 1974 von ihrem Widmungsträger uraufgeführt, da dieser aufgrund seiner Freundschaft zu dem regimekritischen Schriftsteller Alexander Solschenizyn starken Reiseeinschränkungen unterlag. Mit dem Werk zollte Britten der russischen Herkunft Rostropowitschs Tribut, indem er hier einen Variationenzyklus über vier traditionelle russische Themen anfertigte. Die ersten drei stammen aus Tschaikowskys Ausgaben von Volkslied-Arrangements („Unterm grünen Apfelbaum“, „Herbst“ und „Der graue Adler“) und die vierte ist die Kontakion, oder Hymne an die Verstorbenen. Die letzte Suite ist sozusagen umgekehrt angelegt, da diese Themen erst ganz zum Schluss, nach allen Variationen, erklingen. Obwohl die Sätze ohne Pause aufeinander folgen, ist jede Variation ein in sich geschlossenes Charakterstück. Nach der Introduzione zu Beginn folgen Marcia, Canto, Barcarola, Dialogo, Fuga, Recitativo, Moto perpetuo und, zum Schluss, eine Passacaglia.

aus dem Begleittext von Mervyn Cooke © 2013
Deutsch: Viola Scheffel

Other albums featuring this work

British solo cello music
Studio Master: CDA68373Studio Master FLAC & ALAC downloads available
Britten, Bryars & Tavener: Around Britten
Studio Master: SIGCD318Download onlyStudio Master FLAC & ALAC downloads available
Britten: Cello Suites
Studio Master: SIGCD336Download onlyStudio Master FLAC & ALAC downloads available
Britten: Cello Suites
CDA66274Download only
Waiting for content to load...
Waiting for content to load...