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by Chia Han-Leon
Here was a composer who lived from the very end of the Romantic era through the core modernist period, a stretch of human history which endured tremendous change and tumult. The tone poem The Isle of the Dead was inspired by Arnold Böcklin's 1886 painting of the same name, which Rachmaninov saw in Paris in 1907. Written in 1909, it is a relatively early work, but already contained something of the dark Russian spirit which still tints Rachmaninov's last major orchestral work, the Symphonic Dances of 1940.
The island ... was as solemn as a pyramid. It was a hidden nook for the dead that wished to lie undisturbed. Böcklin expressed this rest of the dead in a place remote and forgotten by the word. The sea is still, there is no cry of bird, no fluttering, no voice.
The boat approaching the little harbour of the island with its towering blue-green cypresses and awful rocks is rowed noiselessly by the ferryman. The white and quiet figure near the coffin - is it some mourner or is it a priest?
The 21-minute Isle of the Dead begins with the lowest range of the orchestra tolling ominously, like a slow funeral march, reminiscent of the opening of the Second Piano Concerto. As the strings rise to the surface, the gently lapping 5/8 rhythm (the waves, the rocking boat) breathes with determination, as relentless as Holst's Mars, as dark as Sibelius' Tapiola.
In effect a long crescendo, the boat approaches the Isle, passing through the mists that separate earthly life and the realm of the dead. Then comes the yearning desire for the rest that death grants, a section of sweet melodic outpourings. After the climax of violent pounding chords, the strings begin [15'56"] to eerily chant the Dies Irae ("Day of Wrath" from the Latin Mass) motif, made all the more creepy by scoring it tremolo. Suddenly - bliss in the form of woodwind, resignation of a wind chorale. His task completed, the grim boatman of death begins his departure. The undulating waves return, slowly, ever so slowly, sending us away from the Isle. The music fades, ends.
Rachmaninov originally thought of naming the three movements of the Symphonic Dances "Midday", "Twilight" and "Midnight", but decided against it to prevent misinterpretation of the music. Even then, these are not so much dances of the ballet variety, but truly symphonic dances which celebrate the dynamic rhythms of the art of moving the human body. Indeed, the opening of the first movement, the Non Allegro, virtually defies you to not move along with its insistent, wrenching TUM-TUM-TUM! rhythm (I am badly hooked on this theme). There is also something of the anxiety of hectic urban life in the piece, perhaps an effect of the composer's last decades of life in America.
This is a symphonic masterpiece of orchestration: flourishing trumpets, hollering clarinets, swirling flutes, marching strings, nostalgic saxophone, singing piano, booming tuba, growling basses, whooping horns and chopping tambourines, plus harp, xylophone, cymbals all. Phew! It also exists as a fascinating transcription for two pianos (available on Hyperion CDA66654 or Double Decca 444 845-2) and I would imagine that it must be a wonderful piece to conduct too. Ashkenazy and the Concertgebouw demonstrate this with a gripping performance throughout.
The final movement, the Lento assai - Allegro vivace is highly characteristic of Spanish dance, with its short and quick themes, shatters of tambourine, trumpet fanfares and dramatism. Tubular bells and harps are also heard here, as is the doom-laden Dies Irae motif (which is in fact present in nearly all of Rachmaninov's works). Towards the end, xylophone and snare drum lead the frenzy of strings, hurling the Dances to its crashing conclusion.
Both pieces offer something expressive for the Romantically inclined, as well as food for dark thoughts. The late Christopher Palmer provides a fine 2-page essay that poetically introduces the works, while Ashkenazy and the Concertgebouw perform with startling conviction, reproduced in vivid Decca sound. Rachmaninov (above left) may not have been able to "cast out the old way" or "acquire the new", but that didn't prevent him from making good what he could do.
A loyal and fascinated fan of Sharleen Spiteri, Chia Han-Leon is a frequent denizen of the breathtaking Polo Mint City.
066: 15.2.98. up.11.5.98
Readers' CommentsFrom: jack ballard (jackb@perimeter.org / Thursday, July 8, 1999 at 21:16:26) One of the best aspects of the Isle of the Dead, from a compositional sense, consists of the two crescendi, the first in minor and the second in major. Each takes an amazing amount of time to complete and releases in explosive fortissimos.  
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The Second Piano Concerto An Inktroduction
The Second Piano Concerto - Recordings Survey Part
I Concerto Reviews: Piano Concertos Nos.1-4 by the composer
himself, Sergei Rachmaninov (Naxos Historical)
Piano Concertos Nos.1-4 with Vladimir
Ashkenazy (Decca)
Piano Concertos Nos.1-4 with Idil Biret
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Piano Concertos Nos.1-4 with Peter
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Piano Concertos Nos.1-4 featuring Earl
Wild (Chandos)
Piano Concertos Nos.2 & 3 with Japanese
pianist Noriko Ogawa (BIS)
Chamber & Piano:
The "Elegiac" Piano Trios with the Borodin Trio (Chandos)
Music for Two Pianos: Suite No.2 op.17,
Russian Rhapsody, and Symphonic Dances. With pianists Dmitri Alexeev
and Nikolai Demidenko. Also features music by Medtner
Orchestral Works: Orchestral Works (Decca Capbox set)
The Isle of the Dead and the Symphonic Dances A classic recording by Vladimir Ashkenazy
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