Rudersdal Chamber Players is one of the Nordic region’s leading ensembles for contemporary music, and it is a great pleasure that OUR Recordings is releasing this important album.
Elena Firsova and Dmitri Smirnov are internationally acclaimed composers. Born in the Soviet Union, they faced severe restrictions that made it nearly impossible for their works to be performed, which ultimately led them to leave the USSR and settle in London.
Their catalogue is extensive and includes commissions and performances by, among others, the BBC Symphony Orchestra, London Sinfonietta, RSNO – Royal Scottish National Orchestra, Gidon Kremer / Kremerata Baltica, Ensemble InterContemporain (Paris), Ensemble Modern (Germany), Birmingham Contemporary Music Group, The Hallé Orchestra, and BBC Proms.
I will now let violinist and founder of Rudersdal Chamber Players, Christine Pryn, introduce the album.
OVER THE ABYSS
by Christine Pryn (condensed)
Eastern European music from the 20th century has captivated me for as long as I can remember. It speaks with intensity, urgency, and truth, unflinching, often uncomfortable. The idea for Rudersdal Chamber Players was born from that music.
After a 2017 visit to Rudersdal Sommerkoncerter, Lera Auerbach and Rafael DeStella planted the seed. We live in peace and privilege, in a country where democracy and freedom are easily taken for granted. In contrast, composers behind the Iron Curtain faced fear, censorship, and silence. There was little room to challenge the system, to question, to rebel. And yet, their musical education was second to none.
Elena Firsova once told me they had to submit a fugue every week. Composing wasn’t a pastime, it was a necessity for survival of the spirit, that urgency is audible. The music is serious, deep, and often harrowing. It pulls you to the edge, over the abyss, and holds you there. You can’t walk away from it unchanged. There is no Danish “hygge” in this world. No easy comfort.
In 2019, we began collaborating with Firsova and Dmitri Smirnov. They wrote piano quartets for us, works of great craft and emotional power. They were warm, humble, devoted to each other and to music. It felt like stepping into a deeper tradition, still pulsing with life.
Then came the pandemic. I was walking in the woods when Elena messaged me, Dmitri was dying. Soon after, condolences appeared on Facebook. The surreal met the tragic in real time.
We had hoped for more music from him. But we are deeply grateful for the one masterpiece he gave us.
Elena remains, one of the last voices of that generation. Her work links us to Schnittke, Gubaidulina, Denisov, a line unbroken. Her and Dmitri’s music joins necessity with transcendence.
To play it is to witness history, and to feel its heartbeat. It gives meaning. It reminds us why we play at all. It stares into the abyss, and sings.