‘Music from Russia’s Women Composers’ is the subtitle of this uncompromising collection, vividly reflecting the temporal and circumstantial differences between the composers. In Ustvol’skaya’s Second Sonata (1949), among her earliest individual works, a personal idiom emerges through the stripped-down nature of the material and musical syntax. It was a shrewd move to follow on directly with the Sixth Sonata (1988), where a metaphysical angst seems to control the progression of clusters, with the merest hint (5'41'') of redemptive calm. Genia captures the music’s unequivocal mood, even if a glassy, brittle tone in passages above forte makes much of the overall programme harder on the ear than it need be.
She goes for maximum impact in Gubaidulina’s Chaconne, though formal cohesion suffers in the process – ‘Fantasy with Chaconne tendencies’ would seem more appropriate. The Piano Sonata is more wayward structurally, but Genia integrates the Allegro’s material so that momentum picks up effortlessly in the central development. The Adagio’s uneasy tranquillity is beautifully maintained, and the brief Presto concludes the work in a Scriabin-like frenzy. The other highlight is Elena Firsova’s Elegy (1979), a study in subdued radiance typical of this deceptively unassuming composer and played, like the gently evocative Hymn to Spring, with superb dynamic definition. If Lena Langer’s Reflection lacks comparable personality, its formal elegance suggests a promising composer in the making.
An engaging recital, well planned and with commendably long pauses between works. After a mostly hard-hitting recital of Russian women composers, how about one highlighting the introspective side of their male counterparts? Genia’s response to Shostakovich’s Second, Prokofiev’s Ninth and Silvestrov’s Third Sonatas would doubtless be of interest.'