Some Soviet analysts used to make great claims for these unfairly neglected scores. They may have been influenced by the fact that Kalinnikov died in poverty at the age of 34, a victim of Tsarist social stratification as much as tuberculosis. Nevertheless, the First Symphony, a graduation piece derivative of Borodin, possesses considerable charm and flair and, in the slow movement at least, something more. Its astonishing outer sections seem to anticipate Prokofiev (though that composer was not, it must be said, flattered by the comparison, and Robert Matthew-Walker's persuasive note draws a parallel with early Stravinsky). The Second Symphony of 1897 attempts to go deeper, but listeners have usually found it less spontaneous, more consciously wrought than its predecessor. Perhaps it's simply that the tunes are not as good.
Veronika Dudarova's Symphony Orchestra of Russia should not be confused with Mikhail Pletnev's magnificent Russian National Orchestra. Although Olympia claims that the ensemble was ''created out of the best symphony orchestras in Moscow and several other musical centres in the country'', its playing is decidedly lacklustre on this occasion and sometimes positively inept. The strings are particularly weak and ill-disciplined, scarcely a characteristic feature of Russian orchestral playing, though you can guess the nationality of the group from its first horn! The recording seems decently balanced, except for some close-miked wind solos, but the engineers cannot disguise the inadequate body of strings and woeful lack of rhythmic spring.
With the deletion of Svetlanov's rough-edged and unmistakably authentic readings of the two symphonies (Le Chant du Monde, 10/89), Jarvi's Chandos discs would appear to be the most satisfactory option despite their extravagant layout. SJ found his No. 2 rather cautious, but Jarvi is infinitely more svelte and sophisticated than Dudarova in the more familiar G minor work.'