I spend a great deal of time exploring classical music by forgotten composers, finding myself more intrigued when listening to music that is entirely new to me than hearing the “warhorses” for the hundredth time. Frequently, I find myself wondering what happened that a composer, renowned in their day, fell into obscurity. Sometimes the explanation seems to be simple. The composer was good – but not great. But even great composers can disappear. After all, it happened to Bach! Today, who doesn’t know and admire his music? Yet, while his music continued to be known and studied by composers after his death, if were not for the efforts of Mendelssohn and his 1829 performance of the St. Matthew Passion, things might have continued that way. Composers need, especially after their deaths, a champion, or face oblivion.
Over the past several days, I’ve been immersed in the complete symphonies of Myaskovsky, on a compilation album on Apple Classical Music conducted by Evgeny Svetlanov. Who plays them today? Not anyone I can think of, but he was known, with good reason, as the father of the Russian symphony. The album includes all 27 symphonies. Now that these have whetted my appetite, next up will be a compilation album of his 13 string quartets.
While today, Mahler and Bruckner have their detractors, their symphonies are well known and frequently performed and recorded. That was not always the case. Perhaps not as long as the time between Bach’s death and his later revival, yet decades went by without Mahler and Bruckner garnering the same attention they do today. I wonder whether, at some point in the future, some renowned conductor will revive Myaskovsky’s symphonies and his work regain the general interest they once did.
I read somewhere that Myaskovsky and Prokofiev, despite their age difference, attended conservatory together, and were close. Prokofiev, however, wasn’t much of a fan. He recognized Myaskovsky’s skill and the beauty of his writing but thought he lacked the spark to loft his music into the first rank. Personally, after listening to most, if not yet all, of the 27, I find them to be quite moving. That spark is there. Each to their own but with the exception of some notable works, it is Prokofiev’s music that I find doesn’t stand the test of time.
Perhaps this brief note will intrigue whoever stumbles across it enough to listen – and hopefully, they’ll enjoy listening their way through this wonderful album as much as I did.
