First review and it is really a great 5 stars review in Fanfare
August 27, 2026
Colin Clarke
*****
Discoveries like this are what makes record reviewing a cherishable activity. Recommended
KASHPEROVA Two Cello Sonatas, op. 1. Janne Fredens (vc); Søren Rastogi (pn) OUR RECORDS 8.226946 (61:24)
OUR Recordings trademark curiosity about musical repertoire is fully on display here: the two Cello Sonatas, op. 1 by Leokadiya Alexandrovna Kashperova (1872-1940) on a disc entitled simply, Resurgence. If Kashperova is known at all, it might be as teacher and mentor to one Igor Stravinsky; Kashperova herself was a student of Anton Rubinstein. She was highly involved with the musical life of late-imperial Saint Petersburg; she moved to Moscow in 1920; but by her death in 1940, she had retreated to obscurity. She was already a concert pianist (her career encompassed concerts in Berlin and London) when she published her op. 1: some have seen her, musically, as a “missing link” between Rubinstein and Rachmaninoff.
Kashperova’s Symphony in b, op. 4 and Piano Concerto were reviewed by Jerry Dubins in Fanfare 50:1; Sarah Cahill sang Kashperova’s Au sein de la natur on an FHR disc, The Future is Female, Volume 1, reviewed in 46:1 by Raymond Beagole, and Alexandra Dariescu included one of Kasperova’s Songs without Words on her A Child’s Dream Signum release (Mark Novak, 49:6). Incidentally, the Piano Concerto (A-Minor) is Kashperova’s op. 2, following on directly in her published work list from this pair of sonatas. Her output includes piano trios, choral works and pieces for solo piano. On the evidence of this recording, we need to hear them. All of them.
This is the first complete recording of Kashperova’s op. 1, a set of two sonatas dedicated to cellist Alexander Verzhbilovich, known for his lyricism, a trait that pervades both of these pieces. Given the lush Romanticism and clear imagination of the first movement of the First Sonata (1895, following her graduation from Rubinstein’s class), the initial sounds one hears, the fact that this is a premiere recording is nothing short of a crime. But there is restitution here, too: the performances are superb, lavishing such care and expression onto the scores. Kashperova revels in beauty, whether long-limbed lyricism so perfectly suited to the cello, or gloriously light textures. All of this is supported by a characteristically lovely recording from OUR, Fredens’ burnished tone set perfectly against the clarity and yet full sound of Søren Rastogi’s piano: one does not need to look it up to know it is a Steinway (I did double check, though, and it is!). Cello and piano are equal partners, and Kashperova wastes not one single note: cello pedal notes are charged with energy as well as “rooting” the piano’s fantasy. A Scherzo follows, by turns muscular and capricious. Rastogi’s finger work is a miracle, while Fredens’ phrasing is a constant source of joy. The music simmers, dances, and occasionally has aspirations towards the orchestral. When it relaxes, it does so with a decidedly Romantic glance backwards; at other times, the writing is more post-Mendelssohn elfin. It is a fascinating mix that, along with negotiating movemental and overall structure, poses many challenges for the interpreters, and Fredens and Rastogi, including an arrival at a very heartfelt climatic point. In this performance, one feels not just the arrival but the sense of dissolution of energy immediately thereafter.
The Andante of the First Sonata opens with a piano declaration of intent that “soften” into a dark gait that may or may not imply a funeral march. The cello’s song is veiled, and beautifully sustained here by Fredens, whose vibrato is as tasteful and expressive as can be. Scalic exchanges between the two instruments nicely mirror each other (and Kashparova ensures there is nothing mundane about these). The cello’s song is destabilized by the piano’s ongoing, regular tread; it is fascinating. The finale opens with a parallel piano show of strength before more flowing writing arrives: here, though, I am more minded of Moscheles or Kalkbrenner. What really enervates is the sense of irrepressible dialogue between cello and piano. Kashperova plans this movement so well, the sense of elation prolonged, interrupted by the most glorious melting lyricism. How well, too, the recording reproduces the passages of high piano writing; one can almost hear the hammers at work. The recording is close but certainly not claustrophobic, and the two instruments are nicely placed against each other.
It is possible to hear influences here, and the booklet suggests Brahms, Tchaikovsky and Chopin, along with a direct quotation from Anton Rubinstein's Cello Sonata No. 2 in G-Minor, op. 39. The performers’ own notes suggest a debt to Wagner’s Siegfried Idyll in the finale of the Second Sonata. But what is much more obvious throughout is Kashperova’s own personality, fully formed, individual, unique.
There is little doubt about the “appassionata” marking of the first movement of the Second Sonata (1896) in this performance. Again, that fascinating mix of passion and lyricism couched in a prevalently late-Romantic idiom is present. Very much outward-facing, turbulent music, the argument is compelling. Really, though, it is the whispered moments, the confidences that elevates Kashperova’s music. Here, the slow movement follows, a gentle lullaby, dripping in tenderness. Fredens’ upper register sings gloriously, the return of the opening bringing deep repose and healing. The Scherzo finds Fredens in agile form; the perils of the piano part are reciprocally tamed by Rastogi. The contrasting theme offers an experience akin to walking into an eclogue; folkish music ensues, before a finale (Allegro maestoso) that begins with the most deliciously harmonized theme. This is a fine, lyrical way to close. Again, the build to the swirling final section is brilliantly done.
Entitled Resurgence, the disc cover features Edvard Munch’s painting Summer Night: The Voice (1893). There are several booklet essays, including a detailing of research into Kashperova’s music by Dr Graham Griffiths, editor at the Kashperova Edition of Boosey & Hawkes; there are also links to documentary videos (In Search of Kashperova) on Boosey & Hawkes’ YouTube channel, to an interview on the website Notes from the Podium, and to Griffiths’ book, Leokadiya Kashperova: Biography, Memoirs & Recollections of Anton Rubinstein (Cambridge University press, 2023). The performers also provide “Bringing the Music to Light,” acknowledging how well Kashperova writes for the cello, the virtuosic nature of the piano writing, and how the composer uses both instruments’ full range (including a moment in the second sonata where Kashperova asks for the lowest notes of both instruments to sound together).
A few select companies hit the bull's eye every time when it comes to recording; OUR is one of them. Take a bow, in this instance, Daniel Davidsen, in charge of producing, editing, mixing and mastering.
Discoveries like this are what makes record reviewing, and listening generally, a cherishable activity: the most direct parallel I can quote in my experiences is my discovery of Hans Winterberg via these pages (Fanfare 43:5), which led to personal explorations and experiences of his music in Berlin. That Kashperova’s pieces have been so loved and respected by the present performers is testament to Fredens and Rastogi’s sense of responsibility to this music.
Janne Fredens is principal cello of the Danish Sinfonietta and a respected chamber and solo musician. A highly respected chamber musician, pianist Søren Rastogi enjoys an international reputation. Together, Fredens and Rastogi are Artistic Directors of the Odsherred Chamber Music Festival: also together, their previous disc Upheaval on OUR Recordings made Myron Silberstein’s 2024 Want List (Fanfare 48:2) and was multiply, and universally positively, reviewed in 47:4, including by myself, perhaps indulging in some poetic licence by referring to that disc as a “sumptuous cake”. The good news is that you can eat well here, too. A prospective Want List candidate for next year. Colin Clarke
Colin Clarke is a freelance Classical Music Journalist. Master's Degree focused in Analytical Musicology from King's College London and a BMus (Hons) from the University of Surrey.

