The Grand Duet progresses in five fairly large...

The Grand Duet progresses in five fairly large movements: it opens in full violent swagger, with the urgency of an animal caught in a trap; following movements relieve the speed but not the concentrated, strained power. Only at the long last movement does the cello seem to "sing" with any of the cantabile tradition in it. But this particular affection sits uncomfortably, and eventually, the monologue turns almost completely inward, the cello retreating into a single high pitch at the border of sound. The piano drops out and the cello finally expands unguarded, in cryptic cuneiform melodic blocks. As if to punish this vulnerability, Ustvolskaya brutalizes this painful introversion with fragments from the piano's loud opening music, like broken glass shattering a deepening sleep. But perhaps what makes the Grand Duet's last minutes so disturbing is their utter disconnection; they testify to a consciousness split by shock and ordeal. The cello now sings oblivious of the outside world, entirely inside itself, where its strength and durability are untouchable. (All Music)
https://youtu.be/jTTQNM6u8yY