Lieder by

Tchaikovsky
Mussorgsky
& Taneyev

Dmitri
Hvorostovsky
Ivari Ilja, piano
M
usic played a major role in the development of a national identity in Russia during the late 19th
century. For many years music teachers, conductors and soloists were “imported” into the country,
particularly from Italy and Germany but also from Ireland, as in the case of John Field, the “inventor”
of the nocturne for piano. Conservatories, which made it possible for musicians to receive formal professional
training, were established many years later in Russia than in other countries. The situation changed with the
conservatories founded in St. Petersburg and Moscow by Anton and Nikolai Rubinstein in 1862 and 1866.
Gradually, talented young Russians were professionally trained and could assume important roles in musical
life. After a long period of domination by foreign musicians, a “typically Russian musical culture” finally
appeared on the horizon.
It was customary to divide the masters of Russian music into two competing groups during the late 19th
century: on the one hand, the academically trained, cosmopolitan “westerners”, with Tchaikovsky and Sergei
Taneyev at their head, and on the other, the five patriotic-minded, self-taught “Narodniks” (populists), the
composers of “The Five”, who were known as “The Mighty Handful” in Russia: Mily Balakirev, Alexander
3
Borodin, César Cui, Modest Mussorgsky and Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov. Despite the differences between these
two “camps”, they had one important thing in common: their love of the Russian folk song united the
advocates of the two positions. For both groups, the Russian song had great significance for the national
musical idiom over and above its purely musical beauty.
Tchaikovsky, Balakirev and Rimsky-Korsakov published collections of folk songs, and most composers of that
time used Russian folk songs in their works, for example, Tchaikovsky in his opera Eugene Onegin and his
Fourth Symphony and Balakirev in his Overture on Three Russian Themes. Tchaikovsky tended to smooth out
the irregularities in the songs and adapt them to the style customary in western music, whereas Balakirev
loved the austere, unpolished character of the folk melodies.

They all composed songs for voice and piano that more or less closely followed the tradition of the Russian
folk song, however, and derived a new genre from it – the Russian romance. Pyotr I. Tchaikovsky, who is
most popular as a symphonist today, composed no less than thirteen song collections totalling over one
 hundred songs. Legend has it that his very first composition, Our Mama in St. Petersburg, was a song, and
in 1893, the year of his death, Tchaikovsky composed an important song collection, his opus 73.
These are songs to German texts by Daniel Rathaus – atmospheric nature poems for which the composer
wrote songs full of musical nostalgia. It is not surprising that poetic motifs like night, darkness and sunset
dominate, and one might well consider whether the composer’s approaching death is foreshadowed in the
songs, as was the case with Tchaikovsky’s Sixth Symphony in B minor, op. 74, from the same year. Only the
last song, Again, as Before, Alone, is singled out here (original key: A minor). The descending melody in the
vocal part (con dolore, with sorrow) and the descending semitone motif in the piano, which resembles the
sighing motif in Baroque music, are typical of the spirit of farewell.

Of all the late 19th-century Russian composers, Modest Mussorgsky, who was one year older than
Tchaikovsky, was certainly the most progressive and daring. Since he had had no academic training as a
composer and worked as a civil servant, he was regarded as a “brilliant dilettante”. His Songs and Dances of
6
Death to poems by his young friend and relative, Arseny Arkadyevich Golenischchev-Kutuzov, were composed
between 1875 and 1877. Mussorgsky’s most successful opera, Boris Godunov, had been completed and
given its premiere, and he was in a veritable frenzy of creativity.
The Songs and Dances of Death were actually written for voice and piano but are often performed in the
orchestrations by Dmitri Shostakovich or Kalevi Aho. The situation is similar with Mussorgsky’s best-known
work, Pictures at an Exhibition. It has become popular in Maurice Ravel’s arrangement for orchestra but was
originally composed for piano solo.
The Songs and Dances of Death deviate considerably from the typical simple strophic folk tune and are also
strikingly different from Mussorgsky’s other songs, which often have a satirical undertone. They are dramatic,
realistic scenes from real life, revolving around dying and death. The first song is about a dying child who is
taken by death – the music vividly depicts the gradual process of dying and the mother’s desperate struggle
for her child. The musical atmosphere of this song is reminiscent of Franz Schubert’s celebrated “Erlkönig”
(The Elf King). In “Serenade” death appears as a bridegroom to a dying young woman during a feverish dream
in which Eros and Thanatatos are inextricably intertwined. Behind the title “Trepak” (a Russian dance) is the
figure of a drunken peasant who is overtaken by death in a snowstorm. In the fourth song death appears in
the flesh amid the musically depicted tumult of war and pronounces the battle over: “Victory is declared!”

Sergei Taneyev was sixteen years younger than Pyotr Tchaikovsky and was said to be his favorite student
at the Moscow Conservatory. He composed many works himself, including ten symphonies, nine string
quartets and a great deal of vocal music, as well as the opera The Oresteia. Taneyev is noted less for his works
than his students, however, who included Alexander Scriabin, Sergei Rachmaninoff, Nikolai Medtner, Serge
Koussevitzky and the Italian Ottorino Respighi. Unlike most of his Russian contemporaries, Taneyev was a
master of counterpoint, which he regarded as an essential basis for composition. He studied the old masters
exhaustively and, at least in his youth, expressed disdain for composers like the original but poorly trained
amateur composers of “The Five”.
Taneyev was a close friend of the socially engaged writer Leo Tolstoy and in 1905 sided with the insurgents
5
protesting against the established order. He consequently left the Moscow Conservatory in 1906 for the
People’s Conservatory, where he taught for the most part free of charge. His social commitment is reflected
in his songs, particularly the Tolstoy settings. At the same time, however, he wrote such surprising works as
Stalactites and the almost popular Anxiously beats the heart from the Ten Romances, op. 17, composed in
1905. This is emotionally exciting music in which restless agitation full of intensity is heard in the
accompaniment and voice.

Sigfried Schibli
Translation: Phyllis Anderson
 One of the world’s leading baritones of today, Dmitri Hvorostovsky was born and studied in
Krasnoyarsk, Siberia. From the start, audiences were bowled over by his cultivated voice, innate sense of
musical line, and natural legato. In 1989, he won the prestigious BBC Cardiff Singer of the World
Competition. Since his Western operatic debut at the Nice Opera in Tchaikovsky’s Pique Dame, he has
been invited for regular engagements at the major opera houses and festivals internationally. Dmitri has
also performed as a celebrated recitalist in every corner of the globe, and appeared in concert with the
world’s top orchestras and conductors, including James Levine, Bernard Haitink, Claudio Abbado, Lorin
Maazel, Zubin Mehta, Yuri Temirkanov, and Valery Gergiev.
Dmitri has retained a strong musical and personal contact with Russia and tours its cities on an annual
basis. He became the first opera singer to give a solo concert with orchestra and chorus on Red Square
in Moscow; this performance was televised in over 25 countries. Together with Renée Fleming, Jonas
Kaufmann, Sumi Jo, Sondra Radvanovsky and others he has appeared in a ‘Dmitri Hvorostovsky and
Friends’ series of concerts in Moscow.
6
Dmitri has recorded a number of recitals and complete operas on CD and DVD to much critical acclaim.
He has also starred in Don Giovanni Unmasked, an award-winning film (2001) based on the Mozart opera.

www.hvorostovsky.com

Estonian pianist Ivari Ilja has performed on many important concert stages throughout the world, as duo
partner of such renowned singers as Dmitri Hvorostovsky, Irina Arkhipova, Maria Guleghina, and Elena
Zaremba. Since 2003, he has repeatedly toured with Dmitri Hvorostovsky to the USA, Europe, Hong Kong,
and Japan. Born in Tallinn, Ivari Ilja studied at the Estonian State Conservatoire as well as the Moscow
Tchaikovsky Conservatoire.
Ivari Ilja
 D
ie Musik spielte im Russland des späten 19. Jahrhunderts eine bedeutende Rolle für die
Herausbildung einer nationalen Identität. Während vieler Jahrzehnte waren die Musiklehrer,
Dirigenten und Solisten ins Land „importiert“ worden, vor allem aus Italien und Deutschland, aber
auch aus Irland wie zum Beispiel John Field, der „Erfinder“ des Nocturnes für Klavier. Konservatorien, die eine
formelle Berufsausbildung für Musiker ermöglichten, entstanden in Russland im Vergleich zu anderen Ländern
erst mit Jahrzehnte langer Verspätung. Mit den von Anton und Nikolai Rubinstein 1862 und 1866 gegründeten
Konservatorien in St. Petersburg und Moskau änderte sich die Situation. Allmählich wurden talentierte junge
Russen professionell ausgebildet und konnten im Musikleben wichtige Funktionen übernehmen. Nach langer
musikalischer Fremdherrschaft zeichnete sich endlich eine „typisch russische Musikkultur“ am Horizont ab.
Man hat sich daran gewöhnt, die Meister der russischen Musik im späten 19. Jahrhundert in zwei
rivalisierende Gruppen einzuteilen: Hier die akademisch ausgebildeten, kosmopolitischen „Westler“ mit Pyotr
Tschaikowsky und Sergej Tanejew an der Spitze, da die fünf patriotisch gesinnten, autodidaktisch geschulten
„Narodniki“ (Volksfreunde), die Komponisten des „Mächtigen Häufleins“: Mili Balakirew, Alexander Borodin,
8
César Cui, Modest Mussorgsky und Nikolai Rimski-Korsakow. Bei allen Unterschieden zwischen diesen beiden
„Lagern“ gab es aber eine starke Gemeinsamkeit: Die Liebe zum russischen Volkslied verband die Vertreter
der entgegengesetzten Positionen. Für beide Gruppierungen hatte das russische Lied über seine rein
musikalische Schönheit hinaus grosse Bedeutung für die nationale russische Musiksprache.
Sowohl Tschaikowsky als auch Mili Balakirew und Rimsky-Korsakow gaben Volkslied-Sammlungen heraus,
und die meisten Komponisten jener Zeit verarbeiteten in ihren Werken russische Volkslieder. Tschaikowsky
zum Beispiel in seiner Oper Eugen Onegin oder in seiner vierten Sinfonie, Balakirew in seiner Ouvertüre über
drei russische Volkslieder. Wobei Tschaikowsky dazu neigte, die Unregelmässigkeiten der Volkslieder zu
glätten und die Musik dem in der westlichen Musik üblichen Stil anzupassen, während Balakirew von der
Gruppe der „Fünf“ gerade das Herbe, Unangepasste der Volksmelodien liebte.

Aber sie alle komponierten Lieder für Singstimme und Klavier, die mehr oder weniger eng an die Tradition des
russischen Volkslieds anknüpfen, und leiteten daraus ein neues Genre, die russische Romanze, ab. So schrieb
Pjotr I. Tschaikowsky, der heute vor allem als Sinfoniker populär ist, nicht weniger als dreizehn
Sammlungen von Liedern. Insgesamt sind es über hundert Lieder. Schon seine erste Komposition überhaupt,
Unsere Mama in St. Petersburg, soll einer Legende zufolge ein Lied gewesen sein, und noch im Todesjahr
1893 schrieb Tschaikowsky mit dem Opus 73 eine bedeutende Liedersammlung.
Es sind Lieder auf deutsche Texte von Daniel Rathaus – stimmungsvolle Naturlyrik, auf die der Komponist
Lieder voller musikalischer Nostalgie komponierte. Kein Zufall, dass dichterische Motive wie Nacht,
Dunkelheit, Sonnenuntergang dominieren, und man könnte sich sehr wohl überlegen, ob darin nicht – ähnlich
wie in Tschaikowskys sechster Sinfonie in h-Moll op. 74 aus demselben Jahr – eine Todesnähe des
Komponisten zu erkennen ist. Herausgegriffen sei nur das letzte Lied Wieder – wie früher… (Originaltonart:
a-Moll). Typisch für den Gestus des Abschieds sind hier die absteigende Tonfolge in der Singstimme („con
dolore“, schmerzvoll) und das absteigende Halbtonmotiv im Klavier, das einem Seufzermotiv in der barocken
Musik ähnelt.

9
Unter allen russischen Komponisten des späten 19. Jahrhunderts war Modest Mussorgsky – ein Jahr älter
als Tschaikowsky – sicherlich der fortschrittlichste und kühnste. Da er keine akademische Ausbildung als
Komponist hatte und als Beamter arbeitete, galt er als „genialer Dilettant“. Seine Lieder und Tänze des Todes
auf Gedichte seines jungen Freundes und Verwandten Arseny Arkadjewitsch Golenischtschev-Kutuzov
entstanden zwischen 1875 und 1877. Seine erfolgreichste Oper Boris Godunow war fertig komponiert und
uraufgeführt worden, und Mussorgsky befand sich in einem wahren Schaffensrausch.
Die Lieder und Tänze des Todes sind eigentlich für Singstimme und Klavier geschrieben, werden aber oft in
der Orchesterfassung von Dimitri Schostakowitsch oder Kalevi Aho aufgeführt. Ganz ähnlich verhält es sich
mit dem berühmtesten Werk von Mussorgsky, den Bildern einer Ausstellung. Diese sind in der
Orchesterversion von Maurice Ravel populär geworden, waren aber im Original für Klavier solo geschrieben.
Die Lieder und Tänze des Todes entfernen sich weit vom Typus des schlichten strophischen Volkslieds und
unterscheiden sich auch stark von den sonstigen Liedern Mussorgskys, die oft einen satirischen Unterton
haben. Es sind dramatische, realistische Bilder aus dem wirklichen Leben, die um das Sterben und den Tod
 kreisen. Einmal ist es ein Kind, das im Sterben liegt und vom Tod heimgeholt wird – die Musik malt eindringlich
den schleichenden Prozess des Sterbens und den verzweifelten Kampf der Mutter um ihr Kind. Die
musikalische Atmosphäre dieses Liedes erinnert an Franz Schuberts berühmten Erlkönig. In der Serenade
erscheint der Tod einer jungen kranken Frau im Fiebertraum als Bräutigam. Eros und Thanatatos sind hier
unlösbar verflochten. Hinter dem Titel Trepak (ein russischer Tanz) verbirgt sich das Bild eines betrunkenen
Bauern, der im Schneesturm vom Tod heimgeholt wird. Im vierten Lied erscheint der Tod inmitten des
musikalisch ausgemalten Kriegsgetümmels leibhaftig und erklärt den Kampf für beendet: „Der Sieg ist
entschieden!“

Sergej Tanejew war sechzehn Jahre jünger als Pjotr Tschaikowsky und galt als dessen Lieblingsschüler am
Moskauer Konservatorium. Er selbst hat viel komponiert – unter anderem zehn Sinfonien, neun
Streichquartette und sehr viel Vokalmusik sowie die Oper Oresteja. Aber berühmt geworden ist Tanejew
weniger wegen seiner Werke als durch seine Schüler. Zu ihnen zählten Alexander Skrjabin, Sergej
10
Rachmaninow, Nikolai Medtner, Sergej Kussewitzki sowie der Italiener Ottorino Respighi. Im Unterschied zu
den meisten seiner russischen Zeitgenossen hatte Tanejew eine sehr hohe Meinung vom Kontrapunkt, den er
für eine wichtige Grundlage des Komponierens hielt. Er studierte gründlich die alten Meister und verachtete
zumindest in seinen jungen Jahren Komponisten wie die originellen, aber im Komponieren kaum geschulten
Freizeit-Komponisten vom „Mächtigen Häuflein“.
Tanejew war eng mit dem sozial engagierten Schriftsteller Leo Tolstoi befreundet und schlug sich 1905 auf
die Seite der Aufständischen, die gegen die etablierte Ordnung protestierten. Folgerichtig wechselte er 1906
vom Moskauer Konservatorium zum Volkskonservatorium, wo er meist kostenlos unterrichtete. In seinen
Liedern schlägt sich sein soziales Engagement nieder, nicht zuletzt in seinen Tolstoi-Vertonungen. Daneben
aber schrieb er so überraschende Lieder wie Stalaktiten und das 1905 komponierte, fast populär gewordene
Das ruhelose Herz schlägt aus den Zehn Romanzen op. 17. Es ist emotional packende Musik, in welcher man
in Begleitung und Singstimme eine ruhelose Bewegung voller Intensität hört.
Sigfried Schibli
Dmitri Hvorostovsky, einer der weltweit führenden Baritone unserer Zeit, wurde in Krasnojarsk (Sibirien)
geboren und ausgebildet. Vom Beginn an war das Publikum beeindruckt von seiner kultivierten Stimme, dem
angeborenen Sinn für melodische Stimmführung und dem natürlichen Legato. 1989 gewann er den
angesehenen BBC Cardiff Singer of the World -Wettbewerb. Seit seinem westlichen Operndebüt in
Tschaikowskis Pique Dame in Nizza wird er weltweit von den besten Opernhäusern und -festivals eingeladen.
Daneben tritt er überall auf dem Globus als gefeierter Rezital-Solist auf und singt in Konzerten mit
Spitzenorchestern und -dirigenten einschließlich James Levine, Bernard Haitink, Claudio Abbado, Lorin
Maazel, Zubin Mehta, Yuri Temirkanov und Valery Gergiev.
Dmitri hat eine enge musikalische und persönliche Bindung an Russland bewahrt mit einer jährlichen Tournee
durch russische Städte. Als erster Opernsänger gab er ein Solokonzert mit Chor und Orchester auf dem Roten
Platz in Moskau mit Fernsehübertragung in 25 Länder. Zusammen mit Renée Fleming, Jonas Kaufmann, Sumi
Jo, Sondra Radvanovsky und anderen ist er unter dem Titel ‘Dmitri Hvorostovsky und Freunde’ in einer
Konzertfolge in Moskau aufgetreten. 11
Dmitri hat eine Anzahl von Lied- und Operneinspielungen auf CD und DVD herausgebracht, die von der Kritik
gefeiert wurden. Daneben sang und spielte er in dem preisgekrönten Film Don Giovanni Unmasked (2001),
der auf Mozarts Oper basiert.
www.hvorostovsky.com

Der estnische Pianist Ivari Ilja tritt weltweit in vielen bedeutenden Konzerthäusern auf, als Partner so
bekannter Sänger wie Dmitri Hvorostovsky, Irina Arkhipova, Maria Guleghina und Elena Zaremba. Seit 2003
ist er regelmäßig mit Dmitri Hvorostovsky auf Tournee durch die Vereinigten Staaten, Europa, Hong Kong und
Japan. Ivari Ilja wurde in Tallinn geboren und studierte am dortigen Staatlichen Konservatorium sowie am
Tschaikowsky-Konservatorium in Moskau.
Also available
 Pyotr I. Tchaikovsky Pyotr I. Tchaikovsky
Shest’ romansov, Op. 73 Six Songs, Op. 73
1 My sideli s toboj 1 You and I were sitting together
Text: Daniil Maximovich Rathaus Translation: unknown

My sideli s toboj u zasnuvshej reki. You and I were sitting together by a sleeping river.
S tikhoj pesnej proplyli domoj rybaki. The fishermen passed by, singing a quiet song.
Solnca luch zolotoj za rekoj dogoral... A golden sunbeam was dying over the river...
I tebe ja togda nichego ne skazal. And that time I didn’t tell you anything.

Zagremelo v dali... Nadvigalas’ groza... We heard the crash of thunder far away.
Po resnicam tvojim pokatilas’ sleza... A storm was coming.
I s bezumnym rydan’jem k tebe ja pripal... Tears flowed down your cheek.
I tebe nichego, nichego ne skazal. I embraced you with passionate weeping
And I said nothing.
14
I teper’, v `eti dni, ja, kak prezhde, odin, And these days I’m alone, as I have always been;
uzh ne zhdu nichego ot grjadushchikh godin... I do not expect anything from the years to come.
V serdce zhiznennyj zvuk uzh davno otzvuchal... Such sounds faded from my heart long ago...
akh, zachem ja tebe nichego ne skazal! Ah, why did I say nothing?

2 Noch’ 2 Night
Text: Daniil Maximovich Rathaus Translation: unknown

Merknet slabyj svet svechi... The candle is flickering,

Brodit mrak unylyj... The gloomy darkness fermenting...
I toska szhimajet grud’ And my heart is being sqeezed
S neponjatnoj siloj... so mysteriously by sorrow ...

Na pechal’nyje glaza Upon my sad eyes

Tikho son niskhodit... dreams quietly descend.
I s proshedshim v `etom mig And in this moment my soul
Rech’ dusha zavodit. is starting to talk to the days begone.
Istomilasja ona My soul
Gorest’ju glubokoj. is worn out by sorrow...
Pojavis’ zhe, khot’ vo sne, Oh, come to me in my dream at least,
O, moj drug dalekij! my friend who is so far away!

3 V `etu lunnuju noch’ 3 In this moonlit night

Text: Daniil Maximovich Rathaus Translation: John Bergeron

V `etu lunnuju noch’, v `etu divnuju noch’, In this moonlit night, this glorious night,
v `etot mig blagodatnyj svidan’ja, In this moment of graceful rendezvous,
o, moj drug, ja ne v silakh ljubvi prevozmoch’, O, my friend, I do not have the power to overcome love,
uderzhat’ ja ne v silakh priznan’ja! Nor can I keep from declaring it to you!

V serebre chut’ kolyshetsja ozera glad’... Gentle waves rock the smooth surface under the silvery light…
Naklonjas’, zasheptalisja ivy... Bowing so as to whisper to the willow…
No bessil’ny slova! Kak tebe peredat’ What words fail to express! How can I convey to you
istomlennogo serdca poryvy? The weariness of a broken heart? 15

Noch’ ne zhdjot, noch’ letit... Zakatilas’ luna... The night does not wait, it flies… The moon has waned…
zaalelo v tajinstvennoj dali.. The first signs of red in the enigmatic distance…
Dorogaja, prosti! Snova zhizni volna Farewell, my dearest! Once again, the tide of life
nam nesjot den’ toski i pechali! Pulls us back to a day of melancholy and sorrow!

4 Zakatilos’ solnce 4 The sun has set

Text: Daniil Maximovich Rathaus Translation: John Bergeron

Zakatilos’ solnce, zaigrali kraski The sun has set, with sparkling colours
legkoj pozolotoj v sineve nebes... A light golden hue in the blue of the heavens…
V obajan’je nochi sladostrastnoj laski In the embrace of the night with its voluptuous caress
tikho chto-to shepchet zadremavshij les... The slumbering forest quietly whispers…

I v dushe trevozhnoj umolkajut muki And in the anxious soul, all anguish ceases
i dyshat’ vsej grud’ju v `etu noch’ legko... And can take, in this night, a deep breath with ease…
 Nochi divnoj teni, nochi divnoj zvuki This marvellous night of shadows, wonderful night of sounds
nas s toboj unosjat, drug moj, daleko. Carries us off, my friend, to a far away place.

Vsja ob’jata negoj `etoj nochi strastnoj, All the blissful embraces of this passionate night,
ty ko mne sklonilas’ na plecho glavoj... Now you rest your head on my shoulder…
Ja bezumno schastliv, o, moj drug prekrasnyj, I am madly happy, oh, my beautiful friend,
beskonechno schastliv v `etu noch’ s toboj! Unendlessly happy in this night with you!

5 Sred’ mrachnykh dnej 5 In the midst of gloomy days

Text: Daniil Maximovich Rathaus Translation: John Bergeron

Sred’ mrachnykh dnej, pod gnetom bed, In the midst of gloomy days, under the weight of misfortune,
iz mgly tumannoj proshlykh let, From the hazy fog of years past,
kak otblesk radostnykh luchej, Like a joyous reflection of rays of hope,
mne svetit vzor tvojikh ochej. I see the glance of your shining eyes.

16 Pod obajan’jem svetlykh snov In the embrace of radiant sleep

mne mnitsja, ja s toboju vnov’. I imagine myself once again with you.
Pri svete dnja, v nochnoj tishi In the light of day, in the silence of night
deljus’ vostorgami dushi. Sharing with you the joys of the soul.

Ja vnov’ s toboj! - moja pechal’ I am with you again! – My sorrow

umchalas’ v pasmurnuju dal’... Hurdles into the sullen distance…
I strastno vnov’ khochu ja zhit’ - And again my desire to live glows with a passion –
toboj dyshat’, tebja ljubit’! To breathe as one with you, to love you!

6 Snova, kak prezhde 6 Again, as before

Text: Daniil Maximovich Rathaus Translation: Leonid Gulchin

Snova, kak prezhde, odin, I am alone again, as before,

Snova ob’jat ja toskoj And again unbearable anguish oppresses my heart.
Smotritsja topol’ v okno, The poplar is looking at my window
Ves’ ozarjonnyj lunoj Illumined by the Moon
Smotritsja topol’ v okno The poplar is looking at my window,
Shepchut o chem to listy The leaves are whispering about something,
V zvezdakh gorjat nebesa The sky is full of shining stars,
Gde teper’, milaja, ty? Darling, where are you now?
Vsjo, chto tvoritsja so mnoj, I am not able to tell everything,
Ja peredat’ ne berus’. What’s going on with me.
Drug! pomolis’ za menja, My friend, please, pray the God for me,
Ja za tebja uzh moljus’! Since I am already praying for you.

Modest P. Mussorgsky: Modest P. Mussorgsky

Pesni i pljaski smerti Songs and Dances of Death
Text: Arseny Arkad’yevich Golenishchev-Kutuzov Translation: Sergey Rybin

7 Kolybel’naja 7 Lullaby 17
Stonet rebjonok... Svecha, nagoraja, A child is groaning... A candle, burning out,
Tusklo mercajet krugom. Dimly flickers onto surroundings.
Celuju noch’ kolybel’ku kachaja, The whole night, rocking the cradle,
Mat’ ne zabylasja snom. A mother has not dozed away with sleep.
Ranym-ranjokhon’ko v dver’ ostorozhno Early-early in the morning, carefully, on the door
Smert’ serdobol’naja stuk! Compassionate Death — Knock!
Vzdrognula mat’, ogljanulas’ trevozhno... The mother shuddered, looked back with worry...
,,Polno pugat’sja, moj drug! “Don’t get frightened, my dear!
Blednoje utro uzh smotrit v okoshko... Pale morning already looks in the window...
Placha, toskuja, ljublja, With crying, anguishing and loving
Ty utomilas’, vzdremni-ka nemnozhko, You have tired yourself, have a little nap,
Ja posizhu za tebja. I’ll sit instead of you.
Ugomonit’ ty ditja ne sumela. You’ve failed to pacify the child.
Slashche tebja ja spoju.” - I’ll sing sweeter than you” —
,,Tishe! rebjonok moj mechetsja, b’jotsja, “Quiet! My child rushes and struggles,
Dushu terzaja moju!” Tormenting my soul!”
,,Nu, da so mnoju on skoro ujmjotsja. “Well, with me he’ll soon be appeased.
 Bajushki, baju, baju.” - Lullaby, lullaby, lullaby.” —
,,Shchjochki blednejut, slabejet dykhan’je... “The cheeks are fading, the breath in weakening...
Da zamolchi-zhe, molju!” - Be quiet, I beg you!” —
,,Dobroje znamen’je, stikhnet stradan’je, “That’s a good sign, the suffering will quieten,
Bajushki, baju, baju.” Lullaby, lullaby, lullaby.” —
,,Proch’ ty, prokljataja! “Be gone, you damned thing!
Laskoj svojeju sgubish’ ty radost’ moju!” With your tenderness you’ll kill my joy!” —
,,Net, mirnyj son ja mladencu naveju. “No, a peaceful sleep I’ll conjure up for the baby.
Bajushki, baju, baju.” - Lullaby, lullaby, lullaby.” —
,,Szhal’sja, pozhdi dopevat’ khot’ mgnoven’je, “Have pity, wait at least for a moment
Strashnuju pesnju tvoju!” with finishing your awful song!” —
,,Vidish’, usnul on pod tikhoje pen’je. “Look, he fell asleep with my quiet singing.
Bajushki, baju, baju.” Lullaby, lullaby, lullaby.”

8 Serenada 8 Serenade
Nega volshebnaja, noch’ golubaja, Magical languor, blue night,
18 Trepetnyj sumrak vesny. Trembling darkness of spring.
Vnemlet, poniknuv golovkoj, bol’naja The sick girl takes in, with her head dropped,
Shopot nochnoj tishiny. The whisper of the night’s silence.
Son ne smykajet blestjashchije ochi, Sleep does not close her shining eyes,
Zhizn’ k naslazhden’ju zovjot, Life beckons towards pleasures,
A pod okoshkom v molchan’ji polnochi Meanwhile under the window in the midnight silence
Smert’ serenadu pojot: Death sings a serenade:
,,V mrake nevoli surovoj i tesnoj “In the gloom of captivity, severe and stifling,
Molodost’ vjanet tvoja; Your youth is fading away;
Rycar’ nevedomyj, siloj chudesnoj A mysterious knight, with magic powers
Osvobozhu ja tebja. I’ll free you up.
Vstan’, posmotri na sebja: krasotoju Stand up, look at yourself: with beauty
Lik tvoj prozrachnyj blestit, Your translucent face is shining,
Shchjoki rumjany, volnistoj kosoju Your cheeks are rosy, with a wavy plait
Stan tvoj, kak tuchej obvit. Your figure is entwined, like with a cloud.
Pristal’nykh glaz goluboje sijan’je, The blue radiance of your piercing eyes
Jarche nebes i ognja; Is brighter than skies and fire.
Znojem poludennym vejet dykhan’je... Your breath flutters with the midday heat ...
Ty obol’stila menja. You have seduced me.
Slukh tvoj plenilsja mojej serenadoj, Your hearing is captured with my serenade,
Rycarja shopot tvoj zval, Your voice called for a knight,
Rycar’ prishjol za poslednej nagradoj: The knight has come for the ultimate reward;
Chas upojen’ja nastal. The hour of ecstasy has arrived.
Nezhen tvoj stan, upojitelen trepet... Your body is tender, your trembling is ravishing...
O, zadushu ja tebja Oh, I’ll suffocate you
V krepkikh ob’jat’jakh: ljubovnyj moj lepet in my strong embraces: listen to my seductive
Slushaj!... molchi!... Ty moja!” chatter! ... be silent!... You are mine!”

9 Trepak 9 Trepak (Russian Dance)

Les da poljany, bezljud’je krugom. Forest and glades, no one is around.
V’juga i plachet i stonet, A snow-storm is crying and groaning,
Chujetsja, budto vo mrake nochnom, It feels as in the gloom of the night
Zlaja, kogo-to khoronit; The Evil One is burying someone;
Gljad’, tak i jest’! V temnote muzhika Hush, it is so! In the darkness
Smert’ obnimajet, laskajet, Death is hugging and caressing an old man, 19
S p’janen’kim pljashet vdvojom trepaka, With the drunkard She is dancing a trepak,
Na ukho pesn’ napevajet: While singing a song into his ear:
Oj, muzhichok, starichok ubogoj, “Oh, my little wretched man,
P’jan napilsja, popljolsja dorogoj, Got drunk, stumbled along the road,
A mjatel’-to, ved’ma, podnjalas’, vzygrala. But the witch-blizzard has risen furiously,
S polja v les dremuchij nevznachaj zagnala. And driven you from the glade into the dense forest.
Gorem, toskoj da nuzhdoj tomimyj, Tortured with anguish and need,
Ljag, prikorni, da usni, rodimyj! Lie down, curl up and fall asleep, my dear!
Ja tebja, golubchik moj, snezhkom sogreju, I’ll warm you up with snow, my darling,
Vkrug tebja velikuju igru zateju. And stir up a great game around you.
Vzbej-ka postel’, ty mjatel’-lebjodka! Shake up the bed, you blizzard-swan!
Gej, nachinaj, zapevaj pogodka! Hey, get going, start chanting, you weather
Skazku, da takuju, chtob vsju noch’ tjanulas’, A fairy tale, that could last all night,
Chtob p’janchuge krepko pod nejo zasnulos’! So that the drunkard could fall asleep soundly!
Oj, vy lesa, nebesa, da tuchi, Hey you, forests, skies and clouds,
Tem’, veterok, da snezhok letuchij! Gloom, wind and fleeting snow,
Svejtes’ pelenoju, snezhnoj, pukhovoju; Wreathe into a shroud, snowy and fluffy;
 Jeju, kak mladenca, starichka prikroju... With it I’ll cover our old man, like a baby...
Spi, moj druzhok, muzhichok schastlivyj, Sleep, my little friend, happy wretch,
Leto prishlo, rascvelo! The summer has come and blossomed!
Nad nivoj solnyshko smejotsja da serpy gljajut, Above the fields the sun is laughing and sickles roam,
Pesenka nesjotsja, golubki letajut... The song hovers around; the doves are flying about...”

10 Polkovodec 10 Field marshal

Grokhochet bitva, bleshut broni, The battle is thundering, the armour is shining,
Orud’ja zhadnyje revut, Copper cannons are roaring,
Begut polki, nesutsja koni The troops are running, the horses are rushing
I reki krasnyje tekut. And red rivers are flowing.
Pylajet polden’, ljudi b’jutsja; The midday is blazing — people are fighting,
Sklonilos’ solnce, boj sil’nej; The sun is declining — the fight is stronger,
Zakat blednejet, no derutsja The sunset is fading away — but the enemies
Vragi vse jarostnej i zlej. Are still battling more fierce and hateful.
I pala noch’ na pole brani. And night has fallen on the battlefield.
20 Druzhiny v mrake razoshlis’... The armies have parted in the darkness...
Vsjo stikhlo, i v nochnom tumane Everything has fallen quiet, and in the night’s mist
Stenan’ja k nebu podnjalis’. The groans have risen to the heavens.
Togda, ozarena lunoju, Then, illuminated by moonlight,
Na bojevom svojom kone, On her battle horse,
Kostej sverkaja beliznoju, Shining with the whiteness of her bones,
Javilas’ smert’; i v tishine, Appeared Death; and in the silence,
Vnimaja vopli i molitvy, Taking in moans and prayers,
Dovol’stva gordogo polna, Full of proud satisfaction,
Kak polkovodec mesto bitvy Like a field marshal she circled around
Krugom ob’jekhala ona. The place of battle,
Na kholm podnjavshis’, ogljanulas’, And having ridden to the top on the hill,
Ostanovilas’, ulybnulas’... looked around, stopped, smiled....
I nad ravninoj bojevoj And above the battlefield
Razdalsja golos rokovoj: Roared her fateful voice:
,,Konchena bitva! ja vsekh pobedila! “The battle is finished! I won over everyone!
Vse predo mnoj vy smirilis’, bojcy! You all submitted before me, soldiers!
Zhizn’ vas possorila, ja pomirila! Life has made you quarrel, I have reconciled you!
Druzhno vstavajte na smotr, mertvecy! Stand up as one for the parade, corpses!
Marshem torzhestvennym mimo projdite, Pass in front of me in a pompous march,
Vojsko mojo ja khochu soschitat’; I want to count my troops;
V zemlju potom svoji kosti slozhite, Then deposit your bones into the earth,
Sladko ot zhizni v zemle otdykhat’! It is sweet to rest from life in the ground!
Gody nezrimo projdut za godami, Year after year will pass,
V ljudjakh ischeznet i pamjat’ o vas. And even the memory of you will disappear.
Ja ne zabudu i gromko nad vami I will not forget and loudly above you
Pir budu pravit’ v polunochnyj chas! Will hold a feast at the midnight hour!
Pljaskoj tjazhjoloju zemlju syruju With a heavy dance I’ll trample
Ja pritopchu, chtoby sen’ grobovuju The raw earth, so that the realm of the grave
Kosti pokinut’ vovek ne mogli, Your bones will never be able to leave,
Chtob nikogda vam ne vstat’ iz zemli!” So that you’ll never rise from the ground!”

21
SERGEI I. TANEYEV SERGEI I. TANEYEV

11 Ljudi spjat, Op. 17/10 11 All are asleep, Op. 17/10

Text: Afanasy Afanas’yevich Fet Translation: John Bergeron

Ljudi spjat; moj drug, pojdjom v tenistvyj sad. All are asleep; my friend, let us go to the shady garden.
Ljudi spjat, odni lish’ zvjozdy k nam gljadjat, All are asleep, and only the stars glance down,
Da i te ne vidjat nas sredi vetvej, But even they don’t see us beneath the branches,
I ne slyshat, slyshit tol’ko solovej... And they can’t hear us, only the nightingale can hear…

Da i tot ne slyshit: pesn’ jego gromka. And even it does not hear us – its song is too loud.
Razve slyshat tol’ko serdce da ruka. Perhaps only the heart and, yes, the hand can hear.
Slyshit serdce, skol’ko radostej zemli, The heart hears, how much earthly joy,
Skol’ko schastija sjuda my prinesli. How much happiness we have brought here.

Da ruka, uslysha, serdcu govorit, And the hand, listening, tells the heart,
Chto chuzhaja v nej pylajet i drozhit, That it feels its burning and trembling,
 Chto i jej ot `etoj drozhi gorjacho, And that it also grows warm from its trembling,
Chto k plechu nevol’no klonitsja plecho... As one shoulder instinctively leans against the other…

12 Menu`et, Op. 26/9 12 Minuet, Op. 26/9

Text: Lev L’vovich Kobylinsky after Ch. d’Orias Translation: John Bergeron

Sredi nasledij proshlykh let From a bygone age

S mel’knuvshim ikh ocharovan’jem With its fleeting charm
Ljublju starinnyj menu`et I love the old-fashioned minuet
S jego umil’nym zamiran’jem! With its touching momentary pauses!

Da, v te veselyje veka Yes, in that merry era

Trudneje ne bylo nauki, No science was more difficult,
Chem nozhki vzmakh, stuk kabluchka Than waving one’s legs and clicking one’s heels
V lad pod razmerennyje zvuki! In measured harmony with the music!

Mne mil vesjolyj riturnel’ How sweet I find the merry ritornello
22
S jego blestjashchej pestrotoju, With its brilliant colourful display,
Ljublju pevuchej skripki trel’, I love the trill of the singing violins,
Prizyv kriklivogo goboja! And the penetrating call of the oboe!

No chasto ikh napev zhivoj Yet, often its lively melody

Vdrug nota skorbnaja pronzala, Suddenly strikes a mournful note,
I chasto v shumnom vikhre bala And often in the noisy whirlwind of the ball
Mne otzvuk slyshalsja inoj, I hear a different sound,

Kak budto pronosilos’ `ekho As if an echo flies past

Zloveshchikh, besposhchadnykh slov, Sinister, ominous words,
I kholodelo vdrug sred’ smekha And suddenly, in the midst of laughter
Chelo v venke zhivykh cvetov! A brow crowned with flowers grows cold!

I vot, pokuda prisedala While my great-grandmothers and all their kin,

Tolpa prababushek mojikh, Make a curtsey,
Pod strastnyj shopot madrigala, Passionate whispers exchange during the madrigal
Uvy, sud’ba reshalas’ ikh! And, alas, their fate is sealed!
Smotrite, plavno, gordelivo Look, how flowing, how proud
Skol’zit markiza pred tolpoj The marquise glides in front of the crowd
S ministrom pod ruku... O divo! With the minister arm in arm… How marvellous!
No robkij vzor blestit slezoj... But tears glisten in her shy glance…

Vokrug vostorg i obozhan’je, Delight and adoration abound,

Carice bala shljut privet, The crowd welcomes the empress of the ball,
A na chele Temiry sled Yet there is a mark on the brow of Temira
Bor’by i taijnogo stradan’ja. Of battles and secret suffering.

I kazhdyj den’ vorozheju And every day the fortune teller

K sebe zovjot Temira v strakhe: Is summoned to Temira in terror:
,,Otkroj, otkroj sud’bu moju!” “Reveal, reveal my fate!”
,,Sen’ora, vash konec na plakhe!” “My Dame, your end is on the executioner’s block!”

13 Ne veter veja s vysoty, Op. 17/5 13 Not the wind from on high, Op. 17/5
Text: Count Aleksei Konstantinovich Tolstoy Translation: John Bergeron 23

Ne veter, veja s vysoty, Not the wind, blowing from on high,

Listov kosnulsja noch’ju lunnoj. Has brushed the leaves against me on this moonlit night,
Mojej dushi kosnulas’ ty. You are the one who has touched my soul.
Ona trevozhna, kak listy, It trembles, like the leaves,
Ona, kak gusli, mnogostrunna. Like a many-stringed psaltery.

Zhitejskij vikhr’ jejo terzal A whirlwind of mundane burdens,

I sokrushitel’nym nabegom, Savages my soul with its destructive raids.
Svistja i voja, struny rval Whistling and howling, it rips at the strings
I zanosil kholodnym snegom. And blankets them in a cold snow.

Tvoja zhe rech’ laskajet slukh, But your voice is a soothing sound,
Tvojo legko prikosnoven’je, Your touch light and tender,
Kak ot cvetov letjashchij pukh, Like pollen blown from a flower,
Kak majskoj nochi dunoven’je. Like a wafting breeze on a May night.
 14 Zimnij put’, Op. 32/4 14 Winter path, Op. 32/4
Text: Yakov Petrovich Polonsky Translation: John Bergeron

Noch’ kholodnaja mutno gljadit The cold night looks dim

Pod rogozhu kibitki mojej; From under the felt covers of my nomad tent;
Pod poloz’jami pole skripit, The grating sound beneath the runners on the field,
Pod dugoj kolokol’chik gremit, The bell clatters from under the harness,
A jamshchik pogonjajet konej... And the coachman urges on the horses.

Za gorami, lesami, v dymu oblakov From beyond the mountains and forests, in the smoke of
Svetit pasmurnyj prizrak luny; the clouds
Voj protjazhnyj golodnykh volkov Shines the sullen phantom of the moon;
Razdajotsja v tumane dremuchikh lesov... The droning howls of hungry wolves
Mne mereshchatsja strannyje sny. Resounds in the fog of the thick woods…
As if appearing in a strange dream.

Mne vsjo chuditsja: budto skamejka stojit, It seems to me as if I see a bench,

24 Na skamejke starushka sidit, Upon which an old woman sits,
Do polunochi prjazhu prjadjot, Spinning yarn until midnight,
Mne ljubimyje skazki moji govorit, Reciting my favourite fairy tales,
Kolybel’nyje pesni pojot... Singing lullabies…

I ja vizhu vo sne, kak na volke verkhom And I see in a dream, how on the back of a wolf
Jedu ja po tropinke lesnoj I ride down the forest path
Vojevat’ s charodejem-carjom To fight the sorcerer king
V tu stranu, gde carevna sidit pod zamkom, In that land, where the princess sits imprisoned,
Iznyvaja za krepkoj stenoj. Pining away behind sturdy walls.

Tam stekljannyj dvorec okruzhajut sady, Where a glass palace is surrounded by gardens,
Tam zhar-pticy pojut po nocham Where the fire-birds sing at night
I kljujut zolotyje plody, And peck at golden fruit,
Tam zhurchit kljuch zhivoj i kljuch mjortvoj vody — Where the waters of the spring of life and the spring of
I ne verish’ i verish’ ocham. death softly murmur –
And believe your eyes or not.
A kholodnaja noch’ tak zhe mutno gljadit And the cold night still looks dim
Pod rogozhu kibitki mojej; From under the felt covers of my nomad tent;
Pod poloz’jami pole skripit, The grating sound beneath the runners on the field,
Pod dugoj kolokol’chik gremit, The bell clatters from under the harness,
A jamshchik pogonjajet konej. And the coachman urges on the horses.

15 Stalaktity, Op. 26/6 15 Stalactites, Op. 26/6

Text: Lev L’vovich Kobylinsky Translation: John Bergeron
after René-François Sully-Prudhomme

Mne dorog grot, gde dymnym svetom I love the grotto, where the smoky light
Moj fakel sumrak bagrjanit, Of my torch casts a crimson glow in the dusk,
Gde `ekho grustnoje zvuchit Where the sad echo resonates
Na vzdokh nevol’nyj moj otvetom; An answer to my involuntary sigh;

Mne dorog grot, gde stalaktity, I love the grotto, where stalactites,
Kak gor’kikh sljoz zamjorzshij rjad, Like frozen rows of bitter tears, 25
Na svodakh kamennykh visjat, Hang from the stone vault,
Gde kapli padajut na plity. Where drops fall on the slabs.

Pust’ vechno v sumrake pechal’nom For all eternity, in the sorrowful dusk
Carit torzhestvennyj pokoj, Let solemn silence reign,
I stalaktity predo mnoj And the stalactites before me
Visjat uborom pogrebal’nym... Hang in their funeral attire…

Uvy! Ljubvi mojej davno Alas! Long ago were the mournful tears
zamjorzli gorestnyje sljozy, Of my love frozen stiff,
No vsjo zhe serdcu suzhdeno Yet my heart remains doomed
Rydat’ i v zimnije morozy. To sob in this earthly frost.
 16 B’jotsja serdce bespokojnoje, Op. 17/9 16 Anxiously beats the heart, Op. 17/9
Text: Nikolai Alekseyevich Nekrasov Translation: John Bergeron

B’jotsja serdce bespokojnoje, Anxiously beats the heart,

Otumanilis’ glaza. The eyes grow foggy.
Dunoven’je strasti znojnoje A gust of burning passion
Naletelo, kak groza. Flies up, like a thunderstorm.

Vspominaju ochi jasnyje Recalling the clear eyes

Dal’nej sputnicy mojej, Of my distant companion,
Povtorjaju stansy strastnyje, I repeat the passionate stanzas,
Chto slozhil kogda-to jej. That I once composed for her.

Ja zovu jejo, zhelannuju, I call to her, my beloved,

Uletim s toboju vnov’ Let us fly off together anew
V tu stranu obetovannuju, To that promised land,
Gde venchala nas ljubov’. Where our love united us.
26
Rozy tam cvetut dushisteje, Where the sweet-scented roses are in bloom,
Tam lazurnej nebesa, With a sky so azure blue,
Solov’ji tam golosisteje, Where the nightingales coo unrestrained,
Gustolistvennej lesa. In the dense foliage of the forest.

℗ 2013 Ondine Oy, Helsinki

Recordings: Moscow State Conservatory, Great Hall, 13.–24.7.2011 Executive Producer: Reijo Kiilunen
Recording Producer: Vladimir Kopcov
Sound Engineers: Dmitrij Kovyzhenko, Aleksej Meshhanov
Mixing: Ruslana Oreshnikova, Enno Mäemets © 2013 Ondine Oy, Helsinki
Mastering: Enno Mäemets – Editroom Oy Booklet Editor: Elke Albrecht
Piano Technician: Mihail Romanenko Photos: Pavel Antonov (Hvorostovsky)
Technical support: Sergeij Dolgov, Mihail Malkin, Mihail Spasskij Design: Eduardo Gomez
 ODE 1216-2
PYOTR ILYICH TCHAIKOVSKY (1840–1893)
Six Songs, Op. 73
1 You and I were sitting together (My sideli s toboj) 2’42
2 Night (Noch’) 4’09
3 In this moonlit night (V `etu lunnuju noch’) 2’02
4 The sun has set (Zakatilos’ solnce) 1’54
5 In the midst of gloomy days (Sred’ mrachnykh dnej) 1’51
6 Again, as before (Snova, kak prezhde) 2’54

MODEST PETROVICH MUSSORGSKY (1839–1881)

Songs and Dances of Death
7 Lullaby (Kolybel’naja) 5’27
8 Serenade (Serenada) 5’01
9 Trepak 5’20
10 Field marshal (Polkovodec) 6’14

SERGEI IVANOVICH TANEYEV (1856–1915)

11 All are asleep (Ljudi spat), Op. 17/10 3’38
12 Minuet (Menu`et), Op. 26/9 4’48
13 Not the wind from on high (Ne veter veja s vysoty), Op. 17/5 2’19
14 Winter path (Zimnij put’), Op. 32/4 3’05
15 Stalactites (Stalaktity), Op. 26/6 4’24
16 Anxiously beats the heart (B’jotsja serdce bespokojnoje), Op. 17/9 2’14

DMITRI HVOROSTOVSKY, baritone | IVARI ILJA, piano