Russian Duo Achieves Alchemy
Written for and published by the Boston Musical Intelligencer on 9 February 2026
nterpretations of endearing directness at the core of musicianship were the order of the evening for Sound Ways’ “The Art of Cello and Piano Duo.” Visiting artists Alexander Rudin (cello and piano) and Ekaterina Derzhavina (piano) artfully arranged a program of Romantic era works for both cello and piano, and piano four-hands by Schumann and Grieg. The almost entirely Russophone audience at First Church Boston had ignored the concurrent Super Bowl LX in favor of the nostalgic artistry of their countrymen––transporting listeners to a Musikabend taken from the Great Hall of the Moscow Conservatory, complete with conférencier (Конферансье) announcing both halves of the program.
Entering the hall, with cello set aside, balanced with scroll on seat of chair for later use, Rudin and Derzhavina opened their salon with Schumann’s Bilder aus Osten (Oriental Images), Op. 66 for piano four-hands. In his typical fashion, Schumann responds to literary sources from his reliable poet-muse Rückert, via Al-Hariri’s medieval Islamic Maqamat. Intended to conjure exotic images of the Orient, the six musical scenes that comprise the work channel the potent Germanic volks element throughout. Rudin on secondo, Derzhavina rendered the soundscape from the primo part. Restrained movements from the musicians at keyboard left little to “watch” as the rhythmic, obsessive, lyrical, and singing qualities of Schumann’s trademark characters of “Florestan and Eusebius” emerged directly into the sound.
A quick tuning with cello in-hand, Rudin proceeded into Fünf Stücke im Volkston (Five Pieces in Folk Style), Op. 102. The first movement, entitled Vanitas Vanitatum (vanity of vanities) sounded with requisite self-referential irony; the incessant repetition of phrases given variety through varied dynamics and phrasing. Rudin greeted us with the classic Moscow Conservatory cello sound––cantilena and robust tone equal, technique in service to musicality. Rudin’s bow control reminded this cellist-reviewer of his contemporary Alexander Knyazev, though the latter far more Dionysian in personality, than the refined, aristocratic musicianship of Rudin.
Much like the preceding works, this one for instrumental duo contained musical miniatures with differing moods. These smaller forms are often the most difficult to depict, as they require the full artistic concentration of faculties across a breadth and depth of palate, mood, and texture––not to mention the coalescing back into an organic whole. Rudin and Derzhavina together rendered such alchemy.
A brief break ensued, after which the musicians sat back down at the piano to conjure the ever-charming Norwegian soundscapes of Grieg in his Norwegian Folk Dances, Op. 35. Though less murky than the previous Schumann, these sets again constituted miniature studies in ternary form. Party pieces indeed, listeners received a delightful amuse-oreille—even as forgivable page turns made for an ever authentic, honest chamber music presentation.
Grieg’s Cello Sonata in A Minor, Op. 36 rounded out the evening. The opening appassionato half-step theme set the mood, as intense focus through episodic color changes told the tale and carried the line. A fantastic sonata in its own right, this work melds the Norwegian folk and formal elements of classical music perfectly.
Dedicated to Grieg’s brother, a cellist himself, the sonata had its premier with none other than the composer at the piano and Grützmacher on cello in Dresden in 1883. It’s been in the repertoire ever since. The standard, three-movement work concludes with a rondo-style folk melody, proceeded by a quasi-thesis, recitative in the manner of Beethoven’s Op. 132 String Quartet first movement (also in A Minor). This thesis returned in the climactic final coda, producing a harmonic effect almost identical to the conclusion of Grieg’s Piano Concerto (and, yes, also in A Minor).
Both pianist and cellist held their ground throughout the concert as equal partners in balance, tension building (and release), and virtuosity––all the more impressive, given the fact the piano was at full-stick. Refined interpretations abound; it was clear by the heartfelt, subtle smiles and collegial kinship that the two artists enjoyed their joint musicking.
Performances, such as this, that speak to the core of the musical work, are perhaps the peak achievement––the particulars of which often come through best in uninhibited, sincere musicianship. A refreshing change from the “commercial” aspect of American classical music performance, Sound Ways’ presentation of Rudin and Derzhavina made a strong case for the satisfying, professional authenticity of the Russian school.