November | 2017 | Richibi's Weblog

Shostakovich – intermission

“Five Angels Playing Musical Instruments“ (c.1487 – 1490)

__________

the “Quartet for the End of Time“ by
Messiaen, which I lauded in my last
transmission, is perhaps a wonderful
place to take a break, an intermission,
from the central Shostakovich, mighty
and imperial as he is, perhaps even
overbearing, compared to the more
introspective meanderings of Messiaen,
bird calls, philosophical, if more organic
explorations, a radically different musical
reaction to the tyrannical tribulations of
Shostakovich, but not in the least less
viable, convincing, you can decide

Beethoven’s 14th String Quartet in
C# minor, here, seems an apposite
musical counterpart also, a model
for the tortured movements, implicit
in either other incendiary work

note how the several movements in
either quartet hold together neatly, like
a bespoke suit, made to order, you can
follow the line of the cut in all of its
detail, and the suit fits everywhere like,
well, a glove

there are too many extra, unnecessary
ruffles, flounces, frills, excess material
to distract from the essential garment
up until now, to my mind, in Shostakovich,
one gets lost in the kerfuffle, one drifts
away, all except for his Fifth Symphony

neither do the ebb and flow of the
movements, from largo to prestissimo
and throughout the tempo ledger, lead
to distinct, personal, statements from
the individual parts in Shostakovich,
as they do in Messiaen, Beethoven,
when they slip from one chapter to
the next

Shostakovich seems to return to, rely
on, the same, however magisterial
technique – the guy ‘s an obvious
symphonist, an orchestrator of
instruments of the very highest order
– but with the same melodic matter,
variations on a single complaint, too
often reiterated to maintain rapt
attention from start to finish, one
wanders

it might be noted that comparing
string quartets and symphonies is
like comparing apples and oranges

but listen to any Beethoven symphony
for an array of unforgettable musical
airs, dances, dirges, marches, lyrical
romps through Elysian fields, you’re
transfixed through to the very end,
always, everywhere

nevertheless there is indeed the
splendid, and thoroughly
successful Shostakovich Fifth

and alone, the first movement of his
Seventh, which I’m still singing in
the streets

to eternally validate Shostakovich as
the greatest composer of the Twentieth
Century, along with Messiaen

R ! chard

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November 29, 2017

Symphony no 7 in C major, opus 60, the “Leningrad”- Dmitri Shostakovich

“Leningrad in blockade. Sketch on the theme of
“Leningrad Symphony” of D. D. Shostakovich.“
(c.1943)

Mstislav Dobuzhinsky

__________

though I’ve been through the Seventh
three times already, consecutively, it
doesn’t reach, for me, the heights the
Fifth did, its first movement is
manifestly imperious, nearly even
overwhelming, certainly unforgettable,
I’ve been humming the ostinato in my
sleep

but the following movements seem to
me – not being Russian, nor having as
intimately incorporated their culture,
where rhythms and history are
inextricably intertwined – muddled
about the reconstruction of its
shattered world, melodies might be
lovely but are lost in a blur of musical
directions, there isn’t enough repetition
of musical motifs to find solid ground,
angry statements follow lyrical adagios
too often to get our bearings on what
might be going on

the first movement, however, remains a
triumph, note the debt owed to Ravel’s
“Bolero“ in the rousing ostinato, the
part where the same musical phrase
obstinately repeats its peremptory and
ever more vociferous mantra, its
headlong incantation, an interesting
blend in either symphonic work of the
sinuous, the seductive, the beguiling,
turning into the overtly martial, all to
do with pulse

the Symphony no 7, the “Leningrad”,
was first presented in that very city
during its siege by the Germans,
which lasted from 1941 to 1944,
however unbelievably, Shostakovich,
already a giant, was expected to deliver
a masterpiece by both the people and
by the regime, imagine Bono doing a
concert for Syria

Shostakovich doesn’t disappoint

players were culled from what remained
of instrumentalists among the survivors
of both Stalin’s criminal purges and of
the German siege itself left in the city,
those who hadn’t survived the famine
there, Valery Gergiev, an exalted
Russian conductor, describes them as
walking skeletons, meagre from
starvation, we’ve seen these before at
Auschwitz

the world heard, and was moved,
imperialism in any form was being
vociferously condemned, going back
to Napoleon even and his own failed
invasion, if not also to Hannibal
crossing the Alps, Caesar, his
Rubicon

much of this symphony is about cultural
resistance, the survival of a proud and
resilient seed, any proud and resilient
seed, hence its international standing

see Beethoven’s 9th Symphony for
comparable fanfare, flourish, and
circumstance, the only other work of
any such historical political importance
and, appreciably, still unsurpassed,

except for, maybe, Roger Waters
channeling Pink Floyd at the Berlin
Wall, along with, not incidentally
there, again Beethoven

R ! chard

psst: the other great composer of the
20th Century, Messiaen, also
composed a commemoration of
an awful moment in our history,
the Holocaust, his “Quartet for
the End of Time“, played originally
in his very concentration camp by
  similarly “walking skeletons”, does
  for me everything Shostakovich’s
  Seventh didn’t

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November 26, 2017

me in C# major – Wonderland

“Alice in Wonderland“ (1977 )

Salvador Dali

_______

to Soeur Lucie-des-Lys,
wherever she now
may be

the school that we went to, my
sister and I, was across the street,
through a wild grass field, which
we crossed diagonally, especially
after the Soeurs de l’Assomption,
the Sisters of the Assumption of,
indeed, the Blessed Virgin, had
their convent built directly before
our house, not only the times, but
also the nuns’ implicit intercession,
would’ve prevented any harm
coming to us as we wended our
innocent way across their, surely
consecrated, ground

then down a slight hill to cross
the stone bridge that led to the
other side of the gully, that let
a rill slithering through it ripple
gingerly between its two mostly
brush-covered embankments,
shrubs and disconsolate,
disoriented, displaced
apparently, trees

then another trail, in a conversely
diagonal direction – like Alice‘s
flipped reality in Wonderland,
inverted and eventually wondrous
– climbed up the other side of the
rise, and led across another open
field, aridly, to our school

I don’t remember my first day,
but I remember my sister’s, my
parents worked, therefore,
having done this for already a
year, I would walk her to school,
introduce her to her teacher, I
was seven, she was six, there
was no kindergarten then, nor,
by a long shot, children’s day
care centres

but already we were Hansel and
Gretel in my mind, if we became
gingerbread cookies, we’d become
so together, therefore off we went
to encounter this strange new
world

I knew the principal, an efficient
nun, but not unkind, who later
even taught me, she would
introduce my sister to her first
teacher, Soeur Lucie-des-lys,
who couldn’t’ve chosen a better
name, Lucy-of-the-Lilies, and
was just as modest, utterly
inoffensive, as her adopted
moniker

but my sister cried, indeed wailed,
she had never seen a nun before,
in their black and white attire,
stark and ominously disciplinarian

but I had to go to my own class,
my own new year of exploration,
I liked school, I knew what it
could bring, I knew my sister ‘d
be safe with these new wards of
our education

especially with Sister
Lucy-of-the-Lilies, who could ask
for a better mystical indication,
and an absolute reflection of her
actual person, a poem in the guise
of a maiden, to allay, at the time,
any of my residual reservations

then again, I was Hansel, only,
who else could I trust

later my sister met friends, and a
whole new world of adventure,
just like Alice did in her own,
legendary, Wonderland

R ! chard

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November 25, 2017

“Symphony no 6 in B minor, opus 54” – Dmitri Shostakovich

“Great Expectations. USSR pavilion on 1939 New York World’s Fair“ (1939)

Veniamin Kremer

____________

“I hope that these few preparatory words
can give you an insight that may permit
you to experience this strangely
heterogeneous work as a single entity,
a flashpoint in musical history”, says
Leonard Bernstein, somewhat,
admittedly, grandiloquently, in an indeed
thrilling introduction to Shostakovich’s
Sixth Symphony in B minor, opus 54

that he reiterates several of the points
that I earlier brought up does me no
disservice, coming especially from a
person of such high quality, pedigree,
in the musical world, I’m abashed,
bashful, indeed blushing, that my
humble insights have been so
eminently corroborated

but I cannot second his enthusiasm
for Shostakovich’s Sixth Symphony,
a failed, to my mind, entity, a long
introductory lament that lingered
long after its “best before” date,
followed by indifferent, though
perhaps energetic, yet unrelated,
final movements, the instrumentation
might be, admittedly, brilliant, the
Shostakovichian precise array of
sounds, but the sum is less than the
parts, I think, I took home only
confusion, as did the crowd,
apparently, at its first presentation,
Leningrad, November 21, 1939,
Mravinsky conducting, wow, an
even more convincing argument,
maybe, than Bernstein’s, however
rousing, interpretation

for your information, I’ve included
Tchaikovsky’s Sixth, according to
Bernstein intimately related, he
explains, to Shostakovich’s Sixth

you’ll note how different, however,
these two symphonies are compared
to how similar in so many respects
Beethoven’s and Shostakovich’s
Fifths are, Tchaikovsky’s Sixth is
manifestly more Romantic than
Revolutionary

but imagine Tchaikovsky starting and
ending with an adagio, how audacious,
daring, though not particularly efficient,
I think, not especially successful, the
adagio lamentoso seems to me
anticlimactic after the vigorous allegro
molto vivace, which receives a
thunderous applause, the last
movement, the lamentoso, however
lovely, doesn’t rise to the heights of a
proper finale for this forerunner’s
contagious ebullience, sounds rather
like an encore, melodramatic and a bit
pretentious

or maybe I’m just getting cranky

sooner or later though, the conundrum
of adagio bookends will be resolved,
someone inevitably will do it, like
finding the square on the hypotenuse,
unearthing warped space, discovering
a way to recapture carbon dioxide and
make it work for us, as trees would do
if we let them, someone always exceeds,
miraculously, our expectations, watch
for it, dare I say, here

R ! chard

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November 24, 2017

me, in C# major – in the beginning

“Prieteni“

Alexandru Ciucurencu

_______

for my sister

my sister, who is presently recovering,
learning to walk again, up and down,
apparently, the stairs, after a second,
especially virulent, sarcoma, the first,
a year ago, insignificant compared to
this one, which has left her, this time,
with but two of seven muscles in her
upper right hind leg, her thigh, was
surely my first experience of someone
who could understand my existence,
she was born a year and a very few
days later than I was

two buds on a branch learning to
weather the weather from the same
degree, essentially, of inference

she had dark eyes, round, brown,
beautiful, would eventually win
beauty pageants, her hair was also
brown, beautiful, though all this
was to her ever irrelevant, until later
perhaps when she learned to always,
however humbly, as one should treat
a gift from heaven, use it, to protect
her child, to ensure her own ever
noble existence, through which she
never, however, stopped being
beautiful, even radiant

however beautiful might she have
been, I only ever saw her heart,
something I’ve done since with
beautiful people, beyond even
their vaunted allure

my sister was not only my sister,
thus, she was also the other part
of my heart

still is

my parents worked, were gone all
day, ensuring our physical comfort,
food, clothing, a roof over our
heads, and they were little by little
becoming eventually extravagantly
successful, for little people

but it was the ’50s, folks were
coming out of a culture of log
cabins and perseverance, aunts
had survived fires that had burnt
the town down, and who’d saved
their children, all cowering in the
nearby river, cloaked in tarpaulins,
while the menfolk had been toiling
in some other nearby township
to keep their families going,
nearly as heroically as the women

but my sister and I had just been
born in this particular corner of
infinity, where each child, in its
own, needs to make its own way

we, blessed as we were, could
confront this abashing new world
together

and we did

she had been a bud, she became
my anchor, as I, I think, ever for
her since have also been

if you’ll pardon my inordinate, and
perhaps too gushing, ardour

R ! chard

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November 23, 2017

me, in C# major – program notes

“The Journey of the Stone Unicorn“ (2005)

Stefan Caltia

______

for my Uncle Al, who put
me up to this challenge

an uncle of mine recently, who’d only
undertaken, just as recently, his own
“memoir”, he called it, urged me to
write my own autobiography on the
strength of what he perceived to be
my writing ability, I knew that would
be a daunting venture, one that he’d
shown me already in several internet
correspondences how daunting it
had been for his own eventually
abandoned effort, it had been
chronological, a death blow since at
least Proust, Joyce, and the advent
of stream of consciousness, time is
no longer considered linear, watch
any program on television

indeed I tried at one point, a few
months back to start from the
beginning, it was a disaster, where
I was born, when, in a manger, for
your information, for there was no
room at the inn, but from there it
was perfunctory, like watching the
hands on a clock turn

in the meantime, I thought I’d try
something else, a recent inspiration,
just sit by the fire and tell your story,
my story, which is not at all, I think,
as I would, of course, uninteresting,
but you’ll be the gauge of that,
should you keep on reading

and I think I can do that

R ! chard

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November 21, 2017

Dmitri Shostakovich – “Symphony No 5” in D minor, opus 47

“Hi, XVII Congress of the CPSU (B)“ (1934)

Ilya Mashkov

__________

if I thought the Fourth would knock
your socks of, stockings, the Fifth
ought to leave you with, dare I say,
nothing on but your awe, it is
extraordinary, so settle in, pour
yourself a glass of wine, or vodka
if you want to be ethnic, for a
mesmerizing three-quarter hour

days only before the first performance
of Shostakovich’s new symphony, an
article showed up in a leading Moscow
paper suggesting that it would be “a
Soviet artist’s creative response to
justified criticism” in reference, of
course, to Stalin’s displeasure with
Shostakovich’s “Lady Macbeth of
Mtsensk“, which had led to the
cancellation of his Fourth Symphony,
read all about it here

disregard for Stalin’s opinion would
have meant certain execution in an
environment where the leader could
not be contradicted, the ruler wanted
uplifting tunes, the rule was Socialist
Realism, art to celebrate the Party

a similar thing was happening at the
same time in Germany, incidentally,
with Hitler objecting to “entartete
Kunst“, the degenerate art that
moderns were producing, Kirchner,
Klee, Dix, for example, who were
only painting, as Shostakovich was
only composing, what they heard,
saw, for which they were all
persecuted

a few necessary words about the
Fifth Symphony itself, if
Shostakovich had been moving
toward dissonance, you’ll find the
Fifth particularly notable for its
tonal melodies, however sometimes
astringent, more larger intervals,
sevenths, octaves, than strident
atonal conjunctions

and since Shostakovich had been
strictly adhering to the two other
Classical conditions, of tempo and
repetition, this symphony might as
well be a Romantic composition

listen to Beethoven’s Fifth and
compare, they sound nearly
identical but for a 130 years
distance, the peremptory opening,
loud, brash, bracing, followed
quickly by a lull in intensity, four
movements each, horns blare in
either military salvos, a propensity
toward dance rhythms, short, sweet
solo moments for several assorted
instruments, usually contemplative,
piercingly personal – after a
comparison, you’ll never see
Beethoven’s Fifth in the same light
again

Beethoven, however, though
forceful, indeed thunderous, is
more centred on the actual music,
which is jubilant, celebratory, an
exultation, while Shostakovich by
contrast, however equally martial,
sounds the implacability, the
ruthlessness of the fanfare, the
parade, you can feel the iron step
of the guard, their advance
inexorable, this is unquestionably
a political statement, then again
Beethoven didn’t live in France

it’s to be noted that both works
are products of a recent revolution,
the French, the Russian, and the
imminence of a Terror, as well of
the return of an autocratic leader,
the Emperor Napoleon in the first
instance, in the second, of course
Stalin

it’s helpful to view the bombastic
portions in Shostakovich, as the
unassailable positions of the Party,
the more melting moments and
single voices as those of the
oppressed proletariat, a people up
against the stringent requirements
of an unforgiving state growing up
all around them

a return to strict Classical
conditions, by the way, which is
to say “tunes”, might’ve been
Shostakovich’s way of placating,
however risky still, a dictator’s
fearful edicts regarding
permissible taste, that’s what
you can do when you can speak
the language

incidentally, the symphonies are
either composer’s Fifth, perhaps
not incidentally

R ! chard

psst: the applause at the first
performance, November 21,
1937, lasted over half an hour,
people were crying, they’d
found a prophet

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November 17, 2017

Dmitri Shostakovich – “Symphony No 4” in C minor, opus 43

“Portrait of Joseph Stalin (Iosif Vissarionovich Dzhugashvili)“ (1936)

Pavel Filonov

_________

if you’ve been waiting for a Shostakovich
to write home about among his early
symphonies, here’s the one, his
Symphony no 4 in C minor, opus 43 will
knock your socks off from its very
opening gambit, have a seat, settle in,
and get ready for an explosive hour

the Fourth was written in 1936, some
years after the death of Lenin, and the
instalment of Stalin as the supreme,
and ruthless, authority, after several
years throughout the Twenties of
maneuvering himself, cold-bloodedly,
into that position

from Stalin, “Death is the solution to
all problems. No man – no problem.“

fearing retribution after Stalin had
criticized his recent opera, “Lady
Macbeth of Mtsensk“, Shostakovich
cancelled the first performance of
this new work, due to take place in
December, ’36, others had already
suffered internal exile or execution
who had displeased the tyrant, a
prelude to the infamous Great Terror

the Symphony was eventually played
in 1961, 25 years later, conducted by
no less than Kirill Kondrashin, who’d
partnered Van Cliburn a few years
earlier in Cliburn’s conquest of Russia,
but along with this time however the
long-lived Leningrad Philharmonic
Orchestra

to a friend, I said, this is the biggest
thing since verily Beethoven, no one
has so blown me away symphonically
since then

he looked forward, he replied, to
hearing it

the Fourth Symphony has three distinct
movements, to fit thus appropriately the
definition of symphony, though the first
and third have more than one section,
something Shostakovich would have
learned from already Beethoven, it gives
the opportunity of experiencing a variety
of emotions within one uninterrupted
context, add several movements and
you have a poignant, peripatetic musical
journey, more intricate, psychologically
complex, than many other even eminent
composers, Schubert, Chopin,
Mendelssohn, even Brahms, for instance

it’s helpful to think of film scores, and
their multiple narrative incidents,
brimming with impassioned moments,
however disparate, Shostakovich had
already written several of them

let me point out that Shostakovich’s
rhythms are entirely Classical, even
folkloric in their essential aspects,
everywhere sounds like a march,
proud and bombastic, if not a
veritable dance, peasants carousing,
courtiers waltzing, and repetition is
sufficiently present to not not
recognize the essential music
according to our most elementary
preconceptions

but the dissonances clash, as though
somewhere the tune, despite its rigid
rhythms, falls apart in execution, as
though the participants had, I think,
broken limbs, despite the indomitable
Russian spirit

this is what Shostakovich is all about,
you’ll hear him as we move along
objecting, however surreptitiously,
cautiously, to the Soviet system, like
Pasternak, like Solzhenitsyn, without
ever, like them, leaving his country
despite its manifest oppression, and
despite the lure of Western accolades,
Nobel prizes, for instance, it was their
home

and there is so much more to tell, but
first of all, listen

R ! chard

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November 10, 2017

Symphony No 3 in Eb major, op. 20, “The First of May”

“The 1st May Demonstration on The Red Square, 1929“ (1930)

Konstantin Yuon

__________

let me correct something I wrote in my
last comment, inadvertently, misleading
you somewhat with my inappropriate
use of the word “movement”, that the
Symphony no 2 had only one, I stated,
by which I meant that there were no
pauses throughout, there are, however,
indeed four movements in the Second,
four distinct sections that have been
joined together, such an uninterrupted
piece would usually have been given
an appropriate title, or an opus number,
to identify it, but would not have been
called a symphony, a symphony is by
very definition a clearly segmented
composition, like chapters in a book,
they might follow a theme, though not
necessarily, see Mozart, but the breaks
are integral, where you get a chance to
cough, or to get up and replenish your
glass of wine

the Second could have been, should
have been, called simply, “October“,
and, ergo, left at that

but it wasn’t

the very same must be said about the
Third Symphony, “The First of May”,
you can already probably hear the
jubilation and fanfare in just the title,
another milestone of the Revolution,
the anniversary of Lenin’s death, the
final chorus sings a lyric of a poet of
the Revolution, Semyon Kirsanov, a
sure nod to the symphony‘s political,
however peripheral, intent

what you’ll note, however, is the
sensuality of the music, above
whatever weight of a, perhaps
more fitting, dirge, or the bombast
even of a commemorative, an exalting
tribute – though these are determinedly
there – going back to the orchestral
triumphs of the Romantic Era, with
its lush rallentandos and its voluptuous
ritardandos, the better to seduce

Shostakovich is getting ready for the
real thing, a piece with any partisan
message, he must sense, can never
work

by the way, should you disagree
with any of my evaluations, this
would not at all be offensive, but
even wonderful, I have been
wrong, I can prove it, I have the
dates, they are listed somewhere
in my papers, but it would mean
you’re paying attention, listening,
which is the entire purpose, more
than anything else, of this
exploratory exercise, should you
wish to participate

R ! chard

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November 6, 2017

Dmitri Shostakovich – Symphony no. 2 in B major, opus 14 – “to October”

“Carpenter“ (1929) – note the industrialization
of the subject, however
Cubist, for better or for
worse

Kazimir Malevich

_________

Shostakovich’s Symphony no. 2 doesn’t
sound like a symphony – one movement
only, a chorus – but was never meant to,
it had been conceived as a piece in
commemoration of the October
Revolution, a significant event in the
Communist cosmology, and
commissioned by that very polity,
hence the name, “to October“

but later, the symphonic poem was
included chronologically, thus no 2,
in the Shostakovichian oeuvre – if
you’ll excuse that pedantry, “oeuvre”
being too sweet a word for me not to
resist its austere territoriality – the
Symphony no 2 in B major being
first performed in 1927

it starts a shade above inaudibly, which
I often find irritating – unless, of course,
it’s Wagner, or Richard Strauss, who
knew what they were doing – suggesting
something significant is rumbling,
brewing on the musical horizon, after
which we enter in a lively fashion upon
a dance, full of folkloric flavour

but the harmonies are atonal, discordant,
a society, however traditional, is in disorder,
tonality, one of the stalwarts of Classicism,
along with tempo and repetition, has been
upended, distorted, the commune, the
community, can, no longer unburdened,
with only discordant harmonies, dance,
though you can feel them trying

Ravel does something similar in his
“La valse“, where, with a distortion
of tempo, the world is spinning

with only a change in volume, intensity,
in Shostakovich, the music becomes
martial, autocratic, peremptory, nearly
even frightening

I found at this point that the subtlety of
the move from the conviviality of dance
to the aggression delivered by a more
forceful music, marches and so forth,
lay in a mere alteration of the musical
pulse, from seduction to, indeed, rape,
in a simple change of rhythm – thus is it
written in our very sensibilities

a violin obbligato then intervenes,
strangely, but welcome, in a piece of
brash, by this point, agitprop, but
soon becomes as vociferous as
earlier the crowd who wanted to,
however awkwardly, dance

the obbligato, incidentally, instead of
an out and out solo part, as also with
the piano in Shostakovich’s First
Symphony, suggests the work of a
a community, a Soviet ideal, rather
than that of an individual asserting
hir particular predominance, if you
listen between the lines

a particularly impressive chorus
eventually delivers a tribute, a
hagiographic poem, to Lenin, which
Shostakovich abjured, but delivered
nevertheless for the money, and for
the influence, reportedly, however
ignominiously, for he was young,
not fully formed, innocent yet

it resembles, of course, a cantata, a
religious chant – see Bach, one of the
evident muses of Shostakovich – but
which addresses here a political
system, a cute trick of contemporary
secular regimes, the several –isms
within our post-religious ideological
societies

watch for it

note the spoken, or rather, prosaically
proclaimed last verses of the oration,
hortatory, don’t you think, or what

R ! chard

psst: incidentally, few composers are as
political, though few have been
under such ideological pressure,
as Shostakovich

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Month: November, 2017

November 30, 2017

Shostakovich – intermission

November 29, 2017

Symphony no 7 in C major, opus 60, the “Leningrad”- Dmitri Shostakovich

November 26, 2017

me in C# major – Wonderland

November 25, 2017

“Symphony no 6 in B minor, opus 54” – Dmitri Shostakovich

November 24, 2017

me, in C# major – in the beginning

November 23, 2017

me, in C# major – program notes

November 21, 2017

Dmitri Shostakovich – “Symphony No 5” in D minor, opus 47

November 17, 2017

Dmitri Shostakovich – “Symphony No 4” in C minor, opus 43

November 10, 2017

Symphony No 3 in Eb major, op. 20, “The First of May”

November 6, 2017

Dmitri Shostakovich – Symphony no. 2 in B major, opus 14 – “to October”