Examining Scriabin's early piano output, the debt to Chopin and Liszt is immediately noticable. Yet most of it exhibits an individuality of its own and rarely sounds purely derivative. The Op. 8 etudes in many ways are a perfect example of the composer both divulging the influence of his favorite composers and etching out his own unique voice, a voice that in less than a decade would be counted among the most revolutionary in the twentieth century. This Etude in B flat minor is one of the better-known works in the Op. 8 set, largely owing to its beautiful melody, which is said to have inspired Karol Szymanowski to write an etude in the same key. Scriabin's work opens with a lush, melancholy melody that, despite whatever influences may be present, exhibits a good measure of that quirky, heavily scented, decaying post-Romanticism that would soon set his works apart from those of his contemporaries. In the middle section, there are brief glimpses of light attempting to break through the clouds. The return of the main theme seals the sense of sadness, even of hopelessness and this approximately four-minute work quietly ends, the music slowly dying.

© All Music Guide

###

This turbulently passionate tour de force is arguably the quintessence of late Romantic subjectivity. The "étude" aspect of this work is multifold: for the first half of the composition, the left hand in constant triplets is engaged in wide octave skips that must be played smoothly and, of course, accurately; some of the left hand intervals are quite large, in tenths and elevenths, and for those with smaller hands, decisions must be made about a method for executing these moments gracefully; the right hand melody in octaves also contains wide skips and agitated ascensions, and alternates but triple and duple figures all of which must be convincingly expressed while the physically angular bass remains relatively understated.

In the first six-measure phrase of the melody, there are three on-rushing ascensions terminating in gradually higher landing points that resolve in a sigh, and each preceded by an ardent clarion call partly dissonant to the prevailing harmony. The phrase is followed an extended sigh that works itself downward scalewise.

The first six-measure phrase is repeated, builds to the higher dynamic level of fortissimo using the same notes, but ends in the relative major key (F sharp major) at which point there is a quick diminuendo to a piano dynamic level.

The next section, structured in two four-measure phrases, is a variation on the previous ascending figure without the trumpet double-attack rhythm. Instead, the ascending and descending runs are mostly in continuous triplets with the quickest flashes to the top register in groups of four sixteenths. This section has a wonderful improvisatory quality as if the composer is expressing his reaction to a deep feeling, rather than just declaring it.

The next section, which, like all the other sections, segues seamlessly from the previous material, combines the triplet runs with full chordal accents upon splendidly intense modulations. Rather than create a symmetry to the previous eight-measure section, the left hand leaves what has been its continuous floating triplet patterns after six and a half measures, and both hands join in the accented chords that underpin the second half of the piece.

The first melodic phrase is recapitulated at a richly timbred fortissimo. With the full chordal pulses, low bass octaves and high melodic notes, the unrelenting pianist is displayed in sight and sound as the traditional epitome of the romantic concertizer.

Variations in accents are made in a few measures, and the bass returns to angular activity but this time in wide-ranging duple octaves and chords against high right hand triplets with melody. The effect is simply overwhelming.

The melody is stated once more at fortississimo level with the harmonies stripped down to octaves producing an almost Stravinskian texture. The grand ending ascends quickly to the highest registers, followed by two deeply resonant strokes of the tonic minor chord.

© All Music Guide

###

By 1894, Scriabin's individual style was already emerging, even if he had not yet broken free of the influence of Chopin and Liszt. The composer was 22 when he completed the Op. 8 set of etudes and had begun drawing notice. This Etude in D flat major falls between the longest work in the set of the G sharp minor—a challenging octave study—and the popular and lovely No. 11 (B flat minor). No. 10 is a study in perpetual motion, as staccato and legato passages interchange throughout with the right hand, negotiating a thorny mixture of intervals. While this etude already exhibits that hesitant rhythmic quirkiness that would appear in many later Scriabin works, it also resembles some of the more brilliant writing of Rachmaninov, a composer who was just-then making his mark. The music races ahead here in nearly ecstatic spurts, briefly slowing down to periodically catch its breath. The piece lasts a mere two minutes, but its exciting character leaves the listener as breathless as the pianist performing it.

© All Music Guide

###

As one might surmise from the low opus number, this is early Scriabin and thus somewhat stylistically derivative. Yet while it divulges unmistakable echoes of Chopin and Liszt, it also reveals a good measure of sophistication and growing mastery of keyboard writing, pointing the way toward the later individualism of the composer. The Etude No. 1 in C sharp minor, with its nervously caressing thirds, is decidedly Chopin-esque, but also exhibits that quirky flow so typical of Scriabin, even in some early pieces. The Second, in F sharp minor, brims with passion and mystery, mixing Chopin with a kind of Rachmaninovian agitation in its cross rhythms. The Etude No. 3 in B minor has the same kind of tempestuous character, but challenges the soloist with a speedy mixture of octaves and single notes. No. 4, in B major, is relatively tranquil in its brightness and sweet nostalgia. The ensuing Etude in E major is more challenging than it sounds, moving consistently in and out of various octave ranges, while turning more intense as the piece progresses. The Sixth, in A major, is graceful and charming in its mostly upper-register sonorities and challenging sixths. The Seventh, in B flat minor, is full of colorful energy and virtuosic hurdles for the soloist in its Presto outer sections. No. 8, in A flat major, is a lovely Lento whose gentle melancholy has a characteristically Scriabin-esque broken flow to its Romantic utterances. The Etude No. 9 in G sharp minor, at about five minutes, is the longest and most powerful piece in the set. Octaves abound in the furor, with Liszt coming to mind in the outer sections, both in the virtuosic writing and in the sinister but dazzling nature of the music. There is a charming, mostly subdued middle section, offering imaginative contrast. The D flat major Tenth mixes staccato and legato writing in quirky, playful music. No. 11, in B flat minor, is sad in its elegance and subdued manner. The closing Etude in D sharp minor, lasting about four minutes, is another long effort and features a powerful sense of yearning, as if expressing some dire frustration or failure. This is probably the most famous etude in the set.

© All Music Guide

Portions of Content Provided by All Music Guide.
© 2008 All Media Guide, LLC. All Music Guide is a registered trademark of All Media Guide, LLC.