Rachmaninoff’s Etudes-Tableaux (study-pictures) are all miniature masterpieces. They are what impressionist music would sound like if the impressionists happened to be obsessed with counterpoint and harmony: highly concentrated tone-poems for piano. To pre-empt any queries about numbering, note that of the 9 which Rachmaninoff initially wrote, one (originally No.4) became No.6, and two which Rachmaninoff simply removed from the set (No.3 and 4 here) were published posthumously. In any case, the is slightly more compact and restrained than the , but still features rich sonoroties, complex contrapuntal textures, melting lyricism, and a raw animal energy.
No.1: A study in keeping a sustained melody over dense staccato accompaniment, and managing changing time signatures. Musically striking, because of the way the melody, usually with the leading role, is completely in thrall to the harmonic underpinnings of the accompaniment.
No.2: A study in fast arpeggiated figures in the LH. This aurally stunning etude-tableaux, briefly referred to as “misting rain“ in a letter by Rachmaninoff, showcases his incredible ability to achiever otherworldly effects almost through pure harmonic manipulation. Note also the implied counterpoint in the LH.
No.3: One of my all-time favourites. It begins freighted with complex sorrow and interspersed with distant bell-tolls, before unfurling into an incredibly heartfelt melodic episode built initially around nearly-static harmony. The latter portions of this lyric section involve a rising chromatic melody that Rachmaninoff eventually borrowed for his Piano Concerto No.4.
No.4: Yet another popular one. A simple march grows into a thing of striking contrapuntal complexity and beauty. Note how naturally Rachmaninoff moves between modal and tonal harmony.
No.5: A searingly difficult, spikily schizophrenic thing, with roulades of notes that remind me a little of Chopin.
No.6: In correspondence with Resphigi, Rachmaninoff identified the picture behind this piece as “The Fair“, and it’s easy to see why. It’s a joyously exuberant piece, rife with full-blooded chords and cheeky harmonic transfiguration, and rather reminiscent of the No.3 prelude.
No.7: A lovely homage to Chopin, featuring a straightforward melody interrupted once by dark violence. If you don’t see the similarities to the first ballade, I’d point you to the persistence of Neapolitan harmony and the ending, which couldn’t be more direct in making its point if it wanted to.
No.8: A vast, thundering, blackly oppressive piece. Rachmaninoff’s harmonic invention is on full display here, from the violent wavering between minor and major, to the bravura display at the end featuring harmonic dips and turns, bitter chromatic runs, huge LH leaps, and a countermelody that emerges apparently out of nowhere.
I’ve uploaded two performances here, with two old recordings by the great Sofronitsky at the end as a bonus. Lugansky’s is hyper-impressionist, with miraculous textures and incredibly compelling phrasing. Ashkenazy’s is energetic and ablaze with colour and detail.
Lugansky:
No.1 -- 00:00 (Note the bell-like passage at 2:25)
No.2 -- 02:58 (Note Lugansky’s daring tempo fluctuations)
No.3 -- 05:21
No.4 -- 11:12 (Note the incredible brightness and clarity of 14:08)
No.5 -- 14:52
No.6 -- 16:32 (The richness at 17:53 is a highlight)
No.7 -- 18:23
No.8 -- 22:28
Ashkenazy:
No.1 -- 25:05
No.2 -- 27:57 (Note the shading Ashkenazy pulls off at 29:49)
No.3 -- 30:39 (Note the reverential entrance of the lyric melody at 32:43)
No.4 -- 35:22 (A brusque, brittle march: a fascinating contrast to the Lugansky rendition)
No.5 -- 38:07
No.6 -- 39:49
No.7 -- 41:32
No.8 -- 45:19 (Amazing coloration throughout)
Sofronitsky (unbelievably tender and rich):
No.2 -- 48:10
No.7 -- 50:35