Alissa Firsova may be the mature side of 30 but this album radiates
youth in all its wonder, complexity and heartening naivety. Any caveats
implied by that observation are largely blown away by the ferocity of
Firsova’s expression and there are countless moments on this disc where
you feel her writing in the white heat of total inspiration.
Many of them come in Bride of the Wind for two pianists,
a reflection on the love between Oskar Kokoschka and Alma Mahler that
obviously yet transcendentally captures the idea of two souls so wrapped
up in one another that their relationship is as fraught, precarious and
charged as is its ecstatic. There are many levels on which Firsova
harnesses that feeling: one pianist knowingly completing another’s
thoughts; one instrument rubbing against the other like a huge, grinding
hulk in an act that could almost prove fatal.
Much of the music here is explicitly linked to beautiful experiences in Firsova’s life. In Loss
for clarinet quintet, we hear the gargantuan frustration of bliss: the
idea that paradise knowingly excludes realities both mundane and
horrific. Clarinettist Marc van der Wiel’s playing is hypnotic. In Tennyson Fantasy
for string quartet, Firsova uses contradictory elements to temper the
music’s gush, though there are moments here when romantic idealism gets
the better of her.
Not, however, in the extraordinary passacaglia, which twists itself
on to a single F natural and again speaks of the fragility of beautiful
things and feelings. Masterly constructed, too, is
Eternity for
clarinet and piano, an expression of the eternal that Firsova was
determined should last no more than two minutes. Ellie Laugharne’s
striking delivery in
‘Here in Canisy’ is a little grand for the sense
Firsova conveys – surely awestruck rather than striking awe – and it’s
hard to discern the words. The Brittenesque augmented fifths and
miniature blossoming episodes of this song and ‘Unity’ (for baritone)
are highly evocative yet it’s remarkable that, despite using established
forms and often rooting her music tonally or modally, no figure looms
over Firsova’s shoulder to tell you any of this is received, learnt or
overly influenced. A striking composer from whom I look forward to
hearing more – especially, I hope it’s not too cynical to say, when life
has given her more than the residual tragedy of paradise to reflect
upon.
(Andrew Mellor / Gramophone)
