A New "sounding image" of the Piano in the Domestic "Female" Vocal Cycle of the 1960s and 1970s

Shkirtil' Lyudmila Vyacheslavovna Professor of Vocal Art, St. Petersburg Mussorgsky music college 191028, Russia, Saint Petersburg, Mokhovaya str., 36, of. Mokhovaya 36 serovyuri2013@gmail.com Other publications by this author

Since the 1960s, the development of Soviet piano writing has been closely linked with sonoristics. We do not mean the sound coloring (it certainly remained the most important component of the art of playing the piano), but a new style based on the timbral-register organization of the musical fabric, on unusual textural techniques that open up fresh sound perspectives. Domestic authors, especially young ones, studied the works of the leaders of the European avant—garde — P. Boulez, K. Stockhausen, A. Pousser (let's call, first of all, "Structures", Boulez's Second and Third Piano Sonatas, Stockhausen's "Clavierstukes", Pousser's "Mobiles" for two pianos) - comprehended new principles of sound production, rhythmic pulsation, serial and aleatoric methods of composition. The piano music of the "sixties" included clusters and experiments with texture density (from the smallest to the most saturated), register and dynamic contrasts, "sounding" pauses, the piano is interpreted by them in the fullness of its universal possibilities, there is practically no limit to the composers' fantasies.

Russian Russian-Soviet school's conquests, in fact, should be added — Prokofiev's bespedal-percussive pianism (manifested, first of all, in the works of R. Shchedrin and B. Tishchenko), I. Stravinsky's rhythmic sophistication and neoclassical finds, virtuosity inherent in Russian music, belliness, sonority, tension and flexibility of the melodic line (all this, of course, from S. Rachmaninoff), the power of rhythmic playing techniques, neo-folklore searches, polyphonic forms of presentation. The fruitful synthesis of the achievements of the European avant-garde and domestic experience led to the emergence of a new "sounding image" of the piano in the domestic music of the 1960s, which was fully in demand in the vocal cycle. Ensembleness, which has become one of the central trends in the art of piano accompaniment in the music of the twentieth century, a significant strengthening of the role of the pianist in a duet with a singer, the revival (at a new stage in the development of Russian music) of the vocal cycle as a comprehensive artistic statement, a significant complication of compositional writing turned out to be the breeding ground that brought the piano to a different level of interaction with the vocal principle, with a word, listeners.

The topic of our "big", main research is the "female" vocal cycle in Russian music of the 1960s and 1970s. In this article we will turn to the most significant examples of the new "sounding image" of the piano in those vocal cycles that have become the subject of analysis, the works of B. Tishchenko, A. Schnittke, A. Kneifel, V. Gavrilin, E. Denisov, S. Slonimsky, B. Tchaikovsky, G. Banshchikov, D. Shostakovich. Let's start with B. Tishchenko's "Sad Songs" (1961, for soprano and piano). The author is the creator of eleven piano sonatas, a bright pianist who performed his own music and the works of his contemporaries a lot and willingly. In the first vocal cycle, he does not change his instrumental principles at all, is in search of modern textural solutions, significantly expands the coloristic possibilities of the piano. Of the most noteworthy: Tishchenko strives not to repeat himself in each of the seven songs of the cycle (the eighth goes without piano accompaniment), his piano is constantly changing, the composer comes up with original register ideas, sensitively follows the word and the "plot" of the songs.

In the first part, "Time" based on P. Shelley's poems, Tishchenko stratifies piano voices horizontally, making maximum use of the entire range of the instrument: there are powerful organ pedals in the basses, and individual sounds ringing on fortissimo in a high register. Tart dissonances, belliness, dimensionality create an image of Time itself and, in fact, determine the semantics of the entire work. Later on, in the song that opens the cycle, we encounter a variety of techniques of avant-garde technique, including dodecaphone series veiled under a fast melodic line, elastic rhythmic progressions, and numerous "flashes" of pointillism. 

"Christmas Romance" (author's remark: "Words and melody of I. Brodsky"), on the contrary, is solved in a minimalist key, in the piano part only reduced or increased octaves supporting melodic "running", creating the effect of a poorly tuned instrument. In the song "Uncle Fell" (words by Sh. Petefi) the composer pays tribute to a large-scale, almost solo version of piano accompaniment, we meet here virtuoso unison passages, noisy martellati, moving chord chains.

The central part of the cycle is a "Lullaby" based on a folk text. Created according to the precepts of M. Mussorgsky, it is saturated with a diverse piano texture and authentic bell-ringing (direct imitation of bell ringing). At the climax — a kind of piano cadence — Tishchenko fills the sound space with powerful tremoli and glissandi, it seems that the music was written for a "three-armed" pianist. And if the intonation environment and the ways of folklore implementation tell us about the deep admiration for the work of M. Mussorgsky, then the piano texture, peculiar technological techniques instantly refer the researcher to the works of I. Stravinsky — the music of his "Russian" period.

In the final song "The Deer" to the words of O. Yakamoti, the composer returns to absolute static, expressed primarily in the piano part. E. Ruchevskaya believes that the event of a romance (the cry of a deer: "in anguish, a deer sobs in autumn") "as if squeezed into a narrow gap, in a moment between darkness and light, night and morning. Time is, as it were, stopped, clamped in a vice" ^{[1, p. 149]}. The accompaniment features absolute textural sparsity, extreme registers, very few notes, dynamic radicalism, widely spaced foreshocks and "creeping" seconds in tremolo, in a word, a carefully written sound picture, an elegant Japanese drawing created with a sharpened calligraphy stick.

"Sad Songs" are dedicated to S. Slonimsky. In the distant 1960s, young Leningrad authors fought shoulder to shoulder for "new" music, for the opportunity to speak freely and non-trivially, breathing the same air of "thaw" freedom. The senior colleague responded to his young friend in the most expressive way, dedicating to him "Polish Stanzas" (1963), a concise vocal cycle for mezzo-soprano and flute. S. Slonimsky was also an excellent pianist, a brilliant improviser, a subtle piano colorist, but, in this case, limited himself to the ensemble of voice and flute, satiating his avant-garde in spirit, the work has significant performing difficulties.

Eight years after his first "female" cycle, Tishchenko turned back to music for voice and piano, composing the famous "Three Songs to the Words of M. Tsvetaeva" (1971). The piano here is extremely concise, even stingy, transparent, graphically accurate, only outlining the rhythmic grid and harmonic supports: guitar in the extreme parts (the author allowed the guitar as an accompanying instrument) and nervously unison, springy, but colorless in the middle section. The composer imitated the Bardic romance in his Tsvetaev songs and limited himself to the limit in the choice of artistic means in accompaniment, leaving the voice and, most importantly, the word, the title role. 

Three poems by M. Tsvetaeva A. Schnittke (1965, for mezzo-soprano and piano) are a completely different "sounding image" of the piano. The work was created during the period of intense avant-garde searches of the composer, two pages of notes are attached to the score concerning various ways of sound production on the instrument. The piano should be "prepared" here, but the pianist also needs to be alert. It is necessary to beat the strings, pinch them, drop a "small iron stick or pencil" on them in the right place, play glissando on the "bass string from the damper to the peg", perform simultaneous taking of consonances on the keyboard and strings. Much of the text is given to the performer — the author only outlines the main boundaries of meter, registers, time (number of repetitions). However, in some places Schnittke carefully prescribes texture or sophisticated rhythmic formulas. The composer immerses the listener in a new sound environment, creates a new piano look, solves fascinating technological problems. He does this, as in all his work, intelligently, with a sense of proportion and taste. 

The piano sounds both like a harpsichord and a harp, vibrates with dozens of open strings, fills the acoustic space with numerous unusual timbres born from the most incredible overtone combinations, noises, creates an amazing background on which the soloist emotionally sings, recites, shouts, whispers a modern and strong poetic text. And it is necessary to recognize the absolute organicity of such a synthesis, the strong influence of this music. The piano here is devoid of almost all generic features, except percussion, but is consonant (in the literal sense) with Tsvetaev's poetry, brings it to a new level of listener perception. Sounds are born as if from the very inside of the instrument, bypassing the complex keyboard-hammer system. The score is attractive and fascinating — aren't these the most important qualities of any real work of art?

In the preface to his vocal cycle "Stupid Horse" (fifteen stories for a singer and a pianist, 1981), A. Kneifel asks to pay attention "to the smallest components of the musical text — every sound, every pause, every detail. Every moment of sound and silence is very important here <...> All pauses are considered as sounding silence" ^{[2, p. 4]}. The pianist becomes a full participant in a real theatrical action: he whispers and screams after the singer, becoming her echo, her peculiar alter ego. There is an amazing variety of sound production techniques on the piano, associated primarily with various noises and pedal effects. The composer attaches several dozen notes to his gigantic work in terms of duration (more than seventy minutes of sound, real "Schubert lengths"), revealing the very "smallest components of the musical text" that help the soloists immerse themselves in the author's idea.

There is no end to the instructions, the composer leaves the performers almost no freedom of action, there is a detailed remark under each note or rhythmic figure. In addition, the pianist needs to tap "with the pad of his finger on the body of the piano, very rhythmically, exactly according to the sound, as if weightlessly", "beat the pedals extremely hard with both feet at the moment they are pressed" or, conversely, "release both pedals extremely sharply, trying to achieve the strongest possible impact with their simultaneous rebounding" and even "to sing with your mouth closed, imitating a distant French horn", "to close the keyboard lid quietly, but clearly and precisely in rhythm", "to click your tongue, imitating the timbre of imaginary very small temple blocks" or "to pat the folded fingers of one hand on the palm of the other hand".

There is no doubt that it is desirable for a pianist to undergo serious training before deciding to sit down at the piano with a performance of A. Kneifel's music. The piano itself is surprisingly poetic here. His part, like a Christmas carol, is filled with the sounds of various bells, breathes the warmth of the naive and fabulous children's world (the cycle is dedicated to daughter Anna), refreshes the ear with bizarre timbre combinations. The number of sounds is minimal, they imperceptibly pass into pauses (sounding!), which also imperceptibly return to us the sound piano matter. The composer gives the performer possession mainly of the right part of the piano keyboard, completely moves away from the chord texture, a single sound becomes the main value. Rhythmic formulas are sometimes acute: each of the fifteen parts of the work corresponds to a special drawing. A. Kneifel is a real inventor of new sound worlds and, at the same time, a hostage of his unique hearing of the music of nature surrounding us. His piano-bell is fresh, clean and timbre, but very complex and does not open for everyone. The work of the spirit is the main task of a musician—performer and not everyone will undertake to solve it.

E. Denisov's "Cries" (1966, for soprano, piano and percussion) is an example of avant—garde piano use. The piano here is in the thick of the percussion group and fully shows its noise qualities — playing on strings and various percussion effects prevail. The piano participates in the creation of a rather creepy sonorous background, on which the soloist, also using complex and unconventional performing techniques, conveys extremely emotionally tragic folk texts. The piano here is the most important, but only part of the overall timbre-instrumental drama. In his part, the serial-dodecaphone technique is used, the ritual expressiveness is strong.

The piano in Marina Tsvetaeva's "Six Poems" (suite for mezzo-soprano and piano, 1973) by D. Shostakovich is extremely diverse. The researcher of the composer's creativity L. Danilevich counted twelve types of piano texture in the opening cycle of the romance: "Usually the same type of piano accompaniment is preserved throughout the entire romance or its main sections. And in the romance "My Poems" the piano texture changes unusually often. There are twelve different types of it here! It is only thanks to Shostakovich's talent and skill that there is no sense of variegation, the tearing of the musical fabric" ^{[3, p. 250]}. The composition is permeated with bell-ringing (akin to the bells of "Khovanshchina"), mighty octave wagers, numerous onomatopoeia: these are drum roll, mournful funeral chains of chords, and cold, symbolizing "cooled feelings" quart sequences. The piano becomes a part of the poetic world, sensitively responding to the "plot" of the poem, to its "text" (and to a greater extent to the subtext), part of a large and original artistic phenomenon, which Yu. Serov aptly described as the "chamber vocal theater" of D. Shostakovich ^[4].

Ascetic restraint is noticeable even in the most intense episodes of writing, textured drawings are graphic, sharp and definite. "There is quite a lot of dodecaphonic concentration in piano accompaniment, sometimes quite a few notes, but each atom of the musical fabric carries its own semantic load intended only for it" ^{[4, p. 189]}. Indeed, a brief intonation grain, a concise rhythmic formula, a timbre-register beginning are extremely important here. As for the "dodecaphonic concentration", it is enough in other late works of the master. L. Mazel, commenting on the melodic lines of Shostakovich's last works (the Twelfth and Thirteenth Quartets, the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Symphonies), deduces a general tendency for them to "avoid returns", explaining that Shostakovich follows the aesthetic model of A. Schoenberg rather than literally embodies the laws of his theory in his scores ^{[5, p. 120]}. We agree and add that it is in the piano part that the composer's desire to "avoid returns" is more evident, to use the entire rich tempered system, to reveal genuine melodic freshness, to enrich the harmonic and timbre palettes of the vocal cycle.

D. Shostakovich considered the piano part of his "Blokovsky" (1966, for soprano, violin, cello and piano) cycle to be "easy". He wrote about this in a letter to M. Shahinyan: "Recently I have composed seven romances based on the words of A. Blok. They are sung by a soprano, and accompanied by a cello and piano <...> The piano part is easy, and I can play it myself" ^[6]. Perhaps it cannot be called easy, it requires large-scale pianism, not to mention ensemble or musical difficulties. Rather, the composer expected to "cope" with her at the premiere concert (the illness and weakness of the right hand were becoming more serious). In the composition for soprano, piano, violin and cello, the piano plays a specific role inherent only to it — an anti-romantic, rigid, lapidary character. Hence, in the piano part, powerful octave passages, colorless and monotonous fast figuration-fillings, long and cold pedals. Pictures of the frozen night Neva, a raging storm or the wrath of the Gamayun bird — this is the area of piano paint. The composer transferred Blokov's love and tenderness, passion and dreams to the violin and cello, it is their instrumental warmth and flexible melody that accompanies and enriches the linear pianism of the piano.      

E. Ruchevskaya clearly traced two almost parallel lines in the work of the young Y. Falik — "Prokofiev" and "Stravinsky" ^{[7, p. 213]}. Of course, we are not talking about borrowings, not about the influence that could be directly detected, but about some principles of creativity, about the attitude to the "sounding image" of the piano, to the form, to thematism. The piano in the composer's vocal cycles of the 1970s "Five Poems by Anna Akhmatova" and "Zveniden" is in tune with this exact thought of the venerable scientist. Let's add here also the "Sviridov line" ("Zveniden") that suddenly appeared in Yu. Falik: apparently, the charm of the cycle created and publicly performed a few years earlier by G. Sviridov "The Departed Russia" was too great. However, "abundance" is an integral part of the bright artistic individuality of Yu. Falik. His individuality is precisely determined by the constant search for a new technological solution, a fresh plot, a non-standard form.

Emphasized linearity, polyphonic development techniques, complex harmonic language, numerous sustained pedals (with thoughtful and bizarre vocalization), rhythmic progressions, variable meter (often its absence), clusters, the technique of "three—armed" pianism, chorale episodes, register maximalism - all these are important components of the modern interpretation of the piano in the "Five Poems of A. Akhmatova" (1972). It is also necessary to mention the articulation palette in the piano part: it is diverse and extremely detailed. If the timbre dominates in the symphonic music of Yu. Falik (it seems that the music of Yu. Falika simply cannot exist, the dramaturgy of timbre is the most important element in the development of the composer's major works), then in the piano (and the accompaniment in the vocal cycle under study goes far beyond the function of voice accompaniment) the composer "plays" with register contrasts, articulatory delights and unexpected textural combinations. The quality of the material for Yu. Falik is perhaps more important than its development, theatricality prevails in piano music.

"Zveniden" (for mezzo-soprano and piano, 1979) is among the performing "hits" of Y. Falik. The cycle has become popular, winning both for the singer and for the pianist. The composition was created on the poems of Russian poets of the early twentieth century, but in a neo-folklore manner. It is here that we observe the previously announced "Sviridovskaya" line, first of all, in the piano part. The piano has clusters of rhythmic chords, so beloved by the author of "Kursk Songs", but unexpected in the work of Yu. Falik, various "bells", crane cries-purring in the upper register on low long pedals and, of course, numerous bells. The theme is the same as in the "Departed Russia" — the outgoing Russia. Many techniques are similar and highly convincing. A few years later, the composer orchestrated "Zvenigorod" for a huge and colorful symphony orchestra, which became an organic continuation of the timbre and emotional enrichment of the piano in the works of Yu. Falik.    

The vocal cycle for soprano and piano to the words of F. Garcia Lorca G. Banshchikov (1962) is written in the manner inherent in this author. His creative style was formed at the intersection of trends coming from the Russian classical school, from Shostakovich and the strong influence of late Austro-German Romanticism and the Novovensky school. The piano here is aphoristic, but colorful, concise, but not stingy, theatrically expressive, but acts strictly in line with the support of the tense utterance of the soloist. Impulsiveness and restrained academism are two beginnings and two "faces" of a skillfully and detailed piano accompaniment. The ticking of the "clock" in the original harmonic language sketch "Dial", the mobile angular "Spanish" dance in the playful serenade "Irene Garcia, the maid", the sadly frozen landscape in the tragic parable "And then..." or the tense rhythmic intonation recitative in "Echo" — accurate and convincing "sketches from nature", a talented answer to the question of time: can the piano sphere in vocal music be modern, fresh in language, original in texture techniques and, at the same time, not destroying the familiar image of the instrument. B. Tchaikovsky answered this important question even more significantly and in detail with his chamber-vocal creativity.

In "Four Poems by I. Brodsky" (1965) for soprano and piano, the piano appears in a non-baroque guise. A narrow range, mainly finger playing, ostinate rhythms with a very free metric, recitativeness and, at first glance, amazing colorlessness — it's hard not to hear similarities with the 1924 Stravinsky Sonata. The motto: "Back to Bach!", proclaimed by the author of "Sacred Spring" in the second decade of the last century, without any stretch can be attributed to the cycle of B. Tchaikovsky. Throughout his creative life, the composer has constantly evolved, but has always maintained key stylistic guidelines. They are also found in the accompaniments of vocal cycles: clarity, tense intonation, precision in detail, articulatory, dynamic and rhythmic diversity, a kind of "environmental friendliness" of the emotional system — intellectualism, depth, restraint, simplicity. Only in the final bars of the last number (the "driver" of which is the "Schubert typewriter" in the pianist's left hand) did the author allow himself several emotionally colored clusters in a high register.

As for "Pushkin's Lyrics" (for soprano and piano, 1972), B. Tchaikovsky admitted in an interview that he set himself the task of writing a cycle in simple, "uncomplicated" language: "I would not write music for Pushkin's poems, as they sometimes write — with the help of snakes or cardiograms. It seems to me that it is difficult to move away from melodics in vocal music. Unlike, for example, the instrumental one, you still have to sing in the vocal one. Therefore, there is only one difficulty in Pushkin's Lyrics: it is impossible to write it in some abstruse, sophisticated language, it is desirable that the language be simple" ^{[8, p. 65]}. At the same time, the composer resolutely departs from the style of salon, everyday romance.

The texture of the piano is filled with a truly Glinkin simplicity and clarity. In each part of the cycle, the author maintains one instrumental technique, one type of movement. Strictly homophonic texture, the absence of horizontal or polyphonic lines create a sense of a delightful return to classical art, to the "golden age" of Russian romance, and only tart dissonance and subtle sonorous inclusions (a chord response in the high register of the piano in the "Echo", deep sustained pedals), some dynamic "extremism" and a sophisticated change of meter give out music of the second half of the twentieth century. It is not necessary to exaggerate some "taste" of stylization that arises in Pushkin's "Lyrics": B. Tchaikovsky was able to speak the language of the classics as his own, effortlessly, very naturally.

Finally, in "Last Spring" (1980, vocal cycle based on N. Zabolotsky's poems for mezzo-soprano, flute, clarinet and piano) we meet a wide variety of textured techniques, rich sonoristics, truly modern use of the piano. The piano here is the undisputed leader in the original composition of the trio of accompaniment. For the most part, the flute and clarinet have only modest counterpoints, pedals, harmonic figuration or sounds that complement harmony, "markers" of strong parts. The exception is a few solo episodes (small duets of flute and clarinet — autumn "calls", bird "calls"). The composer noted that the flute and clarinet in "Last Spring" are "closed", that they should not "stick out", be "solo" instruments ^{[8, p. 65]}. Their light pastoral timbres "color" the score, bring a unique shade of authenticity to the picture of the changing seasons, instrumental variety and elegant sonorous effects. The carrier of the main intonational and figurative "information" in the cycle is the piano — clear, precise, diverse, detailed in texture, harmonically refined. 

Colorful chords-clusters, forschlags-"screams" (in continuation of the bird-like "roll calls" of the flute and clarinet), fanfare chords, tart-dissonant chord chains, muffled-"fabulous" bells, monorhythmic figuration (a kind of perpetuum mobile, characterizing the constancy and incessancy of life movement), melodized arpeggios or melodic pedals (when each sound in the decomposed slow arpeggio seems to "hang", accumulating a colorful cluster), gusts of autumn "wind" ("spinning" small durations in the pianist's right hand), measured "steps" in parallel decimals or mobile, like a distant hum, octaves in the bass, a white-key scale as an image of absolute static rhythmic and dynamic contrasts, fragmentation and summation — this is an incomplete list of the finest piano sound recording of the "Last Spring", a vivid example of the rich and highly original artistic space of B. Tchaikovsky.

"Five Funny Songs for Children" (1961, for soprano and piano) by A. Petrov is a vivid example of Soviet (in the good sense of the word) art for young people. "Pioneer" in spirit, subtle in execution and perfect in writing, they require honed, even virtuoso pianism, and this is a new knowledge for us about the work of an outstanding Russian composer. In his early composition, the author used a solid arsenal of various piano formulas: scales and arpeggios, octave passages, rapid motor episodes, brilliant martelati, jumps, instantaneous changes in the texture plan — and all this at a fast, and sometimes very fast pace. We will add various articulatory difficulties (a lot of staccato playing) and the need to "yield" in dynamics to the soloist-singer. It turns out to be really fun, sometimes witty, the music sparkles, captures with open emotionality, immerses in the world of classical art, virtuosity of the Beethoven type.    

V. Gavrilin's "Russian Notebook" for mezzo-soprano and Piano (1965) became a genuine discovery, a landmark event in Russian music of the mid-1960s. Everything was new and unusual here. M. Bialik recalled: "He transformed the established intonation formulas so much that it became difficult to recognize them in bold and complex sound constructions" ^{[9, p. 250]}. Indeed, with regard to the piano part, we can rightfully speak of bold and complex sound constructions. V. Gavrilin (unlike many of his colleagues from the "sixties" he was not a concert pianist) saturated the piano part with a new type of virtuosity that has no analogues in Russian vocal literature, interpreted the piano as a large ensemble consisting of from folk (balalaika, accordion, psaltery, pipe) and percussion instruments, organically combined a simple folk intonation with the conquests of not only academic music, but also the avant-garde gaining strength in the USSR.

The variety of textured techniques in the score is amazing. Everything is extremely here — dynamics, articulation palette, pace, emotions. The piano part is filled with sonoristics — long, sustained pedals in a variety of layers akin to orchestral fabric, register contrasts, percussive and soft mesmerizing clusters, bell-like. It seems that the piano is designed for a multi-armed pianist: the author makes extensive use of the limit registers in the right and left hands with a full-sounding textured filling in the center of the keyboard. Jumps, complex fast passages, constant rhythmic interruptions, numerous sub—notes requiring isolation, polyphonic conducting, brought to the extreme dynamic point of ostinati - all these are the hallmarks of Gavrilinsky piano in the "Russian Notebook". The cycle itself is a sincere and emotional statement of a strong Russian woman, a genuine drama, a monopera of considerable duration, in which the piano plays a key role.

The vocal cycle of G. Sviridov "Departed Russia" for mezzo-soprano and piano based on poems by S. Yesenin (1977) also became a discovery for the musical community. The composer defined it as a "poem in twelve songs": the scale of the composition, the depth of the philosophical content outgrew, in fact, the framework of the usual vocal cycle. The author from the very beginning thought of "Departed Russia" as an orchestral composition (G. Sviridov failed to realize the idea, but the instrumentation of this work for various compositions of orchestras was not long in coming already in the XXI century), therefore, the piano here requires a very special performance format. G. Sviridov rejected any avant-garde solutions, avoided speculative technological constructions, but the piano part in the cycle is modern in the truest sense of the word — it is music consonant with time. Bells, bells, bells, alarm bells and a veche bell — these are just a small part of the amazing palette of bells with which the "Departed Russia" is filled. The piano vertical is assembled according to the principle of a resonating overtone spectrum, the belliness determines both the texture and harmony in the cycle — are these signs of textbook sonoristics? The endless Russian ringing, in all its variety of shades, becomes a determining factor and a technique of piano accompaniment.

Let's summarize the results. In the 1960s, the chamber-vocal cycle received a powerful impetus for development, for renewal. It turned out to be a fertile sphere of creative efforts — versatility, genre flexibility, rich "plot" possibilities awakened the author's imagination, allowed experimenting with various elements of the musical language. Piano accompaniment is no exception, on the contrary, the piano becomes the most important, sometimes the key part of the author's idea. There are no common techniques, a single template for young composers-"sixties" or masters of an older generation. Each of them is looking for his own way, his own unique manner, his own "sound image" of the piano.

The timbral-register organization of the musical fabric (a key component of piano sonoristics) captured the hearts and minds of Russian composers. The methods of the Western European avant—garde and traditional Russian bell-ringing, linearity and the gathering of the vertical into a single sound space, polyphonic development and homophonic texture, numerous clusters and monody, dodecaphonic delights and Glinkin simplicity and clarity - everything went into the common piggy bank of fresh thinking, everything worked for artistic expediency, for the development of chamber vocal music.           

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