“Contrasting Sounds“ (1924)
Wassily Kandinsky
__________
Shostakovich can be difficult, he speaks a
foreign language, discordant notes leave
you wondering where you’re going
the disruption of the three conditions of
Classical music, tonality, tempo and
repetition, has given us here, the
equivalent of derivatives of Latin, you
don’t understand Italian if you speak
only French, despite the profound
interconnections, roots
or think of trying even to read
Shakespeare
also Shostakovich is more literal than
other composers, his works are intimately
connected with the history and trials
of his homeland, wrapped in folkloric
references later cultures and generations
would not be aware of
one can detect a composer of great
consequence, like reading Homer in
translation, but never be able to feel
their local, tribal, force
only a French Canadian could truly
understand a French Canadian, say,
in hir very atoms, and that, everywhere
there are many references to personal
influences in Shostakovich’s 15th
Symphony, which he viewed, apparently,
as a kind of autobiography – the initial
revolutionary ardour, his profound
disillusion, the day to day struggles to
endure the murderous tribulations of his
political masters, the moral ambiguities
that would have gone with them, the
existential crosses to bear – with
appropriately pertinent quotations from
other foundational composers
you’ll surely not miss Rossini’s “Overture”
to his opera, “William Tell“, which Russians
would’ve been entirely familiar with, though
we’re more likely to have known it in North
America as the theme from the TV show,
“The Lone Ranger“
much as we got our Shostakovich, however
circuitously, from Walt Disney, Hanna-Barbera,
if you’ll remember them
and if you think you’ve heard in this symphony
something you might’ve heard already,
Shostakovich quotes himself from his earlier
symphonies
and if you’re good, you might even catch
some Wagner, Mahler, some, however
esoteric, Glinka, even
much of it, I’m afraid, now lost to us, in
this new century, unless we’re total
nerds
which is where, of course, I take a bow
the first movement was conceived as a
toy box, it’s disorganized in the manner
of a child discovering
I heard, as well, a drunken degenerate
dancing, or trying to, a bull in a china
shop
but in the next movement, a dirge, an
“adagio – largo – adagio – largo”, if
you’ve ever heard one, the drunken
lout, in my mind, the next morning
wakes up, broken but nevertheless
patient, and resilient
with one shoulder to the pillow, he
props himself up, having understood
that he must face the day, if only to do
his morning business, with a hand on
the night table, he braces himself for
the effort of heaving himself up from
the side of the bed, hears every bone
crack, every muscle stir as he lifts
himself up to a stable posture, tests
his balance, then turns to move
forward, crouched under the weight
of all of his days, towards the basin
and the mirror, where the picture
could be better, but could also be
worse
a blemish there takes up less than
a minute, a residual sense of duty,
much more than of pride
his business done, the coffee, the
grinder, the beans, the warmed cup
and then the hour or two to read
poetry and find the inspiration, to
undertake the day that’s been
thrust upon him
he writes his Symphony no 15
the following movements are
excessive to me, we drown in a sea
of adagios and allegrettos, a not
unpleasant fate, but more confusing
than entertaining
though I’ll return
I think I might even get to really like
this symphony, it took me years to
adjust to Kandinsky’s paintings
R ! chard
psst: thanks for listening
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