AI Translation:

The Norwegian cellist Theodor Lyngstad, born in 1993, has been principal cellist of the Copenhagen Philharmonic Orchestra (currently also referred to as Copenhagen Phil, (hele Sjællands symfoniorkester) since 2019. With this album, he presents his CD debut, accompanied by "his" orchestra under the direction of Finnish conductor Eva Ollikainen (currently chief conductor of the Iceland Symphony Orchestra). The combination of Kabalevsky’s Cello Concerto No. 2 and Schumann’s Cello Concerto is somewhat unusual, though Lyngstad rightly points out several parallels between the two works, particularly in terms of atmosphere.

A Nuanced, Controlled Tone and Great Sensitivity
Of course, Robert Schumann’s Cello Concerto in A minor, Op. 129 (1850) is today a cornerstone of the cello repertoire. It is completely baffling that the reception of this magnificent, profound concerto, shaped by a broad stream of narrative and contemplation, is still sometimes overshadowed by certain reservations about Schumann’s later works. Lyngstad and his collaborators present a thoroughly convincing interpretation that need not hide from the abundance of existing recordings. This is due, on one hand, to Lyngstad’s noble, nuanced, controlled, and well-articulated tone, as well as his ability to shape the broad melodic lines of the concerto with intelligence. At the same time, his part is seamlessly embedded within the orchestra, with which the soloist frequently enters into dialogue and musical conversation. On the other hand, Lyngstad certainly sets his own accents (quite literally at times, such as in certain passages of the first movement), but these are applied selectively, with restraint, and without exaggeration. Schumann’s concerto is not being played against the grain in a bid for a highly individual interpretation; instead, its character is conveyed with great sensitivity.

Kabalevsky’s Excellent Cello Concerto No. 2
Though not entirely absent from CD recordings, Cello Concerto No. 2 in C minor, Op. 77 (1964) by Dmitry Kabalevsky (1904–1987) receives far too little attention considering its qualities, perhaps because Kabalevsky carries the reputation of being an “official” Soviet composer. But in my view, such labeling is of peripheral interest when it comes to a work as rewarding, multifaceted, and memorable as this concerto, which continues to reveal new facets even after years of listening.
Like Schumann’s, it is a three-movement work without breaks between the movements. In Kabalevsky’s case, it features slow outer movements and a Presto in the middle. Lyngstad rightfully cites the concerto by Kabalevsky’s teacher Myaskovsky (also in C minor, as is Weinberg’s stylistically related concerto) as a source of inspiration, perhaps also Shostakovich to some extent. But distinctions must be made here: when people (though not in the well-written and informative liner notes!) reflexively claim that both Shostakovich concertos influenced this piece, the timeline alone disproves this assumption. There are, however, numerous parallels to Kabalevsky’s own cello sonata composed shortly before this concerto, which only emphasizes the distinct personality of his music.

A Lyrical and Elegiac Understanding of the Music
Lyngstad’s reading is again on a high level; in some places, the orchestra could bring out certain details more sharply (e.g., the first appearance of the sixteenth-note motif at figure 7 in the first movement), but overall, this interpretation demonstrates the same strengths as his reading of the Schumann concerto. Indeed, Lyngstad sees both works as being “cut from the same cloth,” and his interpretation here is likewise dominated by a lyrical and elegiac understanding of the music.
One could imagine the first movement, characterized by its distinctive pizzicato theme, with a slightly sharper, icier edge, and the second movement with greater dramatic intensity. For me, the final movement is the most convincing, unsurprisingly so, as it is essentially a kind of song that is repeatedly interrupted by reminiscences of the previous movements. It's worth taking a close look: the first seven bars of the theme could easily be harmonized in C major, but Kabalevsky deliberately avoids this. Instead, he veils his cantilena, questions it, casts it in ambiguity, making the final moments, where the skies finally clear and the C major tonality settles in during the softly fading closing bars, all the more powerful and moving. Lyngstad brings out this transformation wonderfully in the recording. Combined with the excellent sound quality of the CD, this is a highly welcome new release. Holger Sambale [April 6, 2025]