Sergei Rachmaninoff, though regarded as behind the times while he was alive, is now one of the most celebrated and beloved composers of the early 20th century.
- "Vocalise", Op.34 No.14, is his most well-known vocal work, and has been arranged for almost every conceivable collection of instruments. Its haunting beauty definitely earns it a place on this page.
- All five of Rachmaninoff's compositions for piano and orchestra embody awesomeness to varying degrees. He wrote them to perform himself, and as he was one of the greatest piano virtuosi of his day, they are all very difficult to play, but amid the fireworks are some of the most outstanding melodies written for piano and orchestra.
- Rachmaninoff composed his Piano Concerto No.1 in F-sharp minor
when he was just 18.note He was inspired by the Grieg concerto, which was in turn inspired by the Schumann concerto, but for a "copy of a copy" it still manages to be a sharply-defined and brilliant piece, starting with the thundering parallel octave triplets as the piano jumps to centre stage after the opening brass fanfare. The melodic writing shows a composer still searching for an individual voice, but the sheer youthful energy is irresistible, and both the second movement and the slow interlude in the finale already show some of the lush romanticism that became his signature style. - Piano Concerto No.2 in C minor was the piece with which Rachmaninoff snapped out of a two-year creative funk following the disastrous premiere of his Symphony No.1, and by this point he had settled more thoroughly into the lush, emotionally charged style that dominated most of his output. From the hushed chords for solo piano in the very first measures (which re-appear near the beginning of the finale in the orchestra) to the flying and diving accompaniment to the orchestra's weighty main theme in the first movement, to a second movement whose songlike melody was "adapted" by Eric Carmen into "All by Myself", to a finale that works its way from tragedy to triumph, it remains one of the composer's most popular works.
- More popular still is Piano Concerto No.3 in D minor, which is regularly named alongside the second concerti of Bartók, Prokofiev, and especially Brahms as a candidate for the most difficult concerto in the standard repertoire.note The almost vocal opening melody, doubled up across the hands, sounds simple enough, but later in the first movement there are individual measures that include more notes than the first two pages - especially if the soloist is brave enough to play the famous "ossia" cadenza!note The fireworks are even flashier in the finale, but the concerto finds time for emotional sensitivity as well, particularly in the second movement and the E-flat major interlude in the third movement.
- Piano Concerto No.4 in G minor is the shortest and least performed of Rachmaninoff's piano concerti, and one of his most abstract and experimental compositions; though he was not a fan of the music of such composers as Bartók, Stravinsky, and the members of Les Sixnote and the Second Viennese School,note he was still aware of it, and while the results of his acknowledgement have divided critics, they are never less than compelling, especially in the second movement.
- One of the few compositions Rachmaninoff produced after emigrating to the United States after the Bolshevik Revolution was the Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, a set of 24 variations on Paganini's Caprice No.24 in A minor. Though in one movement, the piece has a four-movement internal structure, opening not with the theme, but the first variation (a stripped-down version of the theme), and including several variations incorporating the "Dies irae" plainchant theme, a diptych of boisterous major key variations on an inversion of the theme, the emotional centre that is Variation 18 (also based on an inversion of the theme), and a coda after the final variation that ties together all the rhapsody's ideas before a comically understated final gesture.
- Rachmaninoff composed his Piano Concerto No.1 in F-sharp minor
- Of Rachmaninoff's three symphonies, the most often performed and recorded is No.2 in E minor, and with good reason - from the ever-shifting emotional expanse of the first movement, to the fiery energy of the second, to the serene, clarinet solo-led third, to the unbridled triumph of the finale, the symphony is pure awesome from start to finish.
- Rachmaninoff, though he did not originally plan to do so, wrote a full set of 24 preludes in the major and minor keys, every one a winner.
- The first to be composed, the weighty Op.3 No.2 in C-sharp minor, is by far the most famous (though Rachmaninoff grew to detest it). It may be one of the simplest preludes from a structural (and technical) standpoint, but that doesn't detract from its awesomeness. Its three-note opening figure dominates the rest of the work, and the agitated alternating chords that cap off the centre section and the big block chords in both hands when the opening section is repeated at the end are exhilarating to hear and play.
- The 10 Preludes, Op.23, were part of the same flurry of creativity as the second piano concerto. The brilliant No.2 in B-flat major starts with an alternately soaring and swooping accompanying figure under a syncopated melody, and just gets better from there; the buildup to the return of the opening melody is a particular highlight. The stately No.3 in D minor is the most richly contrapuntal of Rachmaninoff's preludes, the opening five-note figure providing the thread for an elaborate tapestry of melodies weaving around each other. The marchlike No.5 in G minor is the most famous of the set, its crashing chords and descending parallel octaves framing a slower centre section of harmonic tension. And the non-stop whirlwind trifecta of the dizzying No.7 in C minor, the sparkling No.8 in A-flat major, and the troubled No.9 in E-flat minor (noted for its extremely difficult double-note figures in the right hand) will leave any pianist or listener breathless.
- The 13 Preludes, Op.32, open with the rousing No.1 in C major, a finger-loosener that prepares artist and audience alike for the rollercoaster to come. The uneasy No.2 in B-flat minor doesn't properly resolve into its home key until the final bars; the accelerando into the centre section in which the right hand gallops back and forth over an octave and a half is a high point. The flamboyant No.3 in E major starts with a thundering quadruple-octave figure which provides the foundation for a triumphant climax. The expansive No.4 in E minor goes through a vast spectrum of emotions, alternating gradual journeys up and down the register until building to a furious chordal passage. The intense No.6 in F minor features lightning quick passagework passed across both hands. The frenzied No.8 in A minor opens with a simple three-note figure over a fast accompaniment, and builds on these ideas in ingenious ways. The buoyant No.9 in A major is another masterpiece of counterpoint, sounding at times as though there must be three hands playing at once. The plaintive No.12 in G-sharp minor, the most famous of the set, is both scintillating and heartrending. And the titanic concluding No.13 in D-flat major not only provides still more fast passagework, heavy chords, and dense counterpoint between the melody and accompanying figures, but also ties up the set neatly with many quotes of the three-note figure from the C-sharp minor prelude and a reference to the chords from its final measures, its atmosphere transformed from solemnity to victory.
- Even the low-key preludes, if less extroverted, are still ingeniously assembled and provide more subtle moments of awesome for the performer. From Op.23, the doleful No.1 in F-sharp minor features long melodic lines that require many moments of crossed hands, building to a powerful climax and then ebbing away again; the serene No.4 in D major weaves first one, then two meandering accompanying figures around the songlike melody at its centre; the tranquil No.6 in E-flat major casts another songlike melody against a wandering accompaniment, then adds a countermelody for the second half; and the gentle No.10 in G-flat major, almost lullaby-like, adds ever more layers of counterpoint as it moves toward a majestic final measure. From Op.32, the ethereal No.5 in G major places an airy melody over a shimmering accompaniment to provide an antithesis to the earlier G minor prelude; the languid No.7 in F major makes excellent use of harmonic suspensions in both the melody and the accompaniment; the devastating No.10 in B minor uses its rich chordal texture to memorably haunting effect, especially in the centre section; and the flighty No.11 in B major hides a sorrow which gives way to inner peace in the final measures.
- The first to be composed, the weighty Op.3 No.2 in C-sharp minor
- The two sets of Etudes-Tableaux, Op.33 and Op.39, have plenty of awesome pieces, each with a story to tell (though usually a story Rachmaninoff preferred to leave to the imagination of the performer or listener).
- The first set opens with the martial No.1 in F minor, its alternating fire and ice creating a gloriously dark atmosphere. The florid No.6 in E-flat minor spins its way up and down the piano's register, providing a Moment of Awesome for any pianist who can get through it without stumbling. The flashy No.7 in E-flat major is by far the happiest of the first set (and among the few for which Rachmaninoff disclosed a story: a day at a carnival), ending with an extroverted statement of Rachmaninoff's rhythmic monogram (which also ends the second and third piano concerti). The tempestuous No.9 in C-sharp minor may not be harmonically adventurous, but the storm of chords and double octaves provide a perfect conclusion to the set.
- The second set, in which all but the last piece quotes the "Dies irae" melody at some point, starts with the unsettled No.1 in C minor, the stormclouds finally unleashing their fury in the final measures. The jittery No.3 in F-sharp minor stumbles and tumbles its way through its uneven rhythms and minor-key gloom. The sober No.4 in B minor is filled with rapid block chords that can vex the performer but fascinate the listener. The grandiose No.5 in E-flat minor is perhaps the most famous of the set, sweeping through a wide emotional landscape before settling into its tranquil conclusion. The sinister No.6 in A minor, sometimes regarded as the most difficult of either set, is a vivid depiction of the meeting of Little Red Riding Hood (with a flighty upper register theme) and the wolf (represented by lower register rumblings). And the triumphant No.9 in D major combines block chords and acrobatic leaps up and down the piano to provide an outstanding and memorable finale.
- The first set opens with the martial No.1 in F minor
- Rachmaninoff's two piano sonatas are seldom performed or recorded (the first one especially), but they rank alongside the very best of his compositions. No.1 in D minornote frames a slow movement of outstanding serenity with a dramatic opening movement and a non-stop fireworks display of a finale. No.2 in B-flat minor has a similarly fiery first movement, but moves into a beautiful yet solemn slow movement followed by a major-key finale of pure joy; Rachmaninoff originally composed the sonata in 1913 but tightened it structurally in 1931. If you're not sure which you prefer, why not pick and choose your favourite parts from each edition? That's what Russian-born pianist Vladimir Ashkenazy did.
- Rachmaninoff also wrote liturgical choir music for the Russian Orthodox Church, and his All-Night Vigil, and the Liturgy for Saint John Chrysostom are spiritual masterpieces.
- From the Moments Musicaux, No. 4 in E minor is heartwrenchingly beautiful. It gives off this feeling of deeply sorrowful and chaotic grief. It's Romanticism in the purest sense of the word.
