Shostakovich: Symphony No 11, 'The Year 1905'

“What's Floon trying to do to us with this highbrow stuff?” I hear you cry. “Why doesn’t he write about really interesting things like toothbrushes, hair conditioner and peanut butter?”

Good question. I guess the answer is, “To each his own.” I find it hard to become passionate about hair conditioner, as a brief glance at my photo will tell you. I am, however, passionate about music and if I can carry a few others with me I am well ...
...from great works. We all want to share those things that give us most pleasure, don’t we?

I have loved Shostakovich’s Eleventh Symphony since I first discovered it courtesy of Coventry Record Library in about 1960 as a schoolboy. Interestingly, some of my more “cool” (i.e. Rock and Roll loving) friends also got hooked on it because of its louder, percussive sections.

*** *** *** The Background *** *** ***

more

“What's Floon trying to do to us with this highbrow stuff?” I hear you cry. “Why doesn’t he write about really interesting things like toothbrushes, hair conditioner and peanut butter?”

Good question. I guess the answer is, “To each his own.” I find it hard to become passionate about hair conditioner, as a brief glance at my photo will tell you. I am, however, passionate about music and if I can carry a few others with me I am well pleased, especially when I know the pleasure to be had from great works. We all want to share those things that give us most pleasure, don’t we?

I have loved Shostakovich’s Eleventh Symphony since I first discovered it courtesy of Coventry Record Library in about 1960 as a schoolboy. Interestingly, some of my more “cool” (i.e. Rock and Roll loving) friends also got hooked on it because of its louder, percussive sections.

*** *** *** The Background *** *** ***

Few, if any, of you will have lived in fear of the midnight knock on the door by secret police, the fear that you will be taken away to some terrible interrogation centre and subjected to unspeakable tortures. We can only guess at the effect it must have on the human spirit. Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975), an intensely shy and private man, the leading composer of the Soviet Union, lived with this fear for much of his life.

It’s against this background that he wrote his Eleventh Symphony, subtitled “The Year 1905.” Bear with me while I pad the picture out a little: it makes a difference to one’s appreciation of this remarkable work.

Shostakovich found early success with his music and, as a good communist, tried hard to reconcile his creative spirit with the need to satisfy the Party’s demands for music that supported the revolutionary ideology. He wrote music for films, his Second and Third Symphonies celebrated the proletariat, he was held up as a model of the Soviet artist. Then in 1936 Josef Stalin, hardly an intellectual, went to a performance of Shostakovich’s opera “Lady MacBeth Of The Mtsensk District,” which until then had played to enthusiastic audiences, and denounced it as “formalist cacophony.” Overnight, the composer became labelled An Enemy Of The People. That was the time when huge numbers of Soviet citizens were being shipped off to prison camps and put to enforced labour, many to die miserable deaths. So convinced was Shostakovich of his imminent arrest that he camped for a time by the lift in his apartment block so that his family would not have to witness it. He even contemplated suicide...

He was later reinstated in official approval with his Fifth Symphony, subtitled rather grovellingly “A Soviet Artist’s Response To Just Criticism.” But his spirit had been broken: he continued to live with the knowledge that while Stalin lived he would not be safe from persecution and he voluntarily suppressed many of his greatest and most private works until after The Leader’s death.

Yet throughout his life, Shostakovich continued to believe in the Communist ideology – or so it was generally assumed. Since his death in 1975 there have been many stories about the hidden messages buried within his music, notably in Volkov’s book “Testimony,” which purports to tell of the private Shostakovich and his true feelings about the Soviet regime. Volkov claimed to have inside knowledge, though this has been widely disputed, not least by the composer’s son Maxim. Nevertheless, it is possible to find in his music much to make one wonder. It is said, for instance, that the demonic second movement of the Tenth Symphony, with its rattling side-drum and whirlwind force, is a musical portrait of Stalin. His Thirteenth Symphony takes a more audacious step: a huge choral work, it sets to music four poems of Yevtushenko, himself a focus for official disapproval, poems which tell of the dark side of Soviet life. The first of these is a condemnation of the anti-semitism which existed in the USSR at the time (and to a lesser extent still does). Kruschev (remember him?) demanded the symphony be banned after its first performance and it was not until officially approved revisions of the poems had been made that further performances were permitted. I still treasure a vinyl recording of that first performance.

*** *** The Symphonies *** ***

Critics have divided Shostakovich’s fifteen symphonies into two main groups. There are the Masterpieces; and there are the Others. The Masterpieces are the first, fifth, eighth, tenth, thirteenth, fourteenth and fifteenth. In other words, he had more misses than hits. So say (or said until recently) the critics. However, one should consider the words of another great twentieth century composer, Sibelius:

“Never fear the critics. Remember, no-one ever raised a statue to the memory of a critic.”

Well said, Sibelius! For while it cannot be denied that some of these symphonies are stronger than others, they all tell of their composer’s inner feelings and chart the history of Soviet Russia.

*** *** The Eleventh *** ***

The Eleventh Symphony is one work in which many “coded” messages are to be found. The subtitle “The Year 1905” refers to the abortive Russian uprising when a huge number of people, gathered outside the Tsar’s palace in silent protest against the living conditions they were enduring, were massacred by the Tsar’s troops. However, it is now agreed that the work has a wider agenda: it was written immediately after the Hungarian uprising of 1956, cruelly crushed by Soviet military might and is seen as a Symphonic protest at all misuse of power against the Common Man.

It is a work on a massive scale, in four movements to be played without a break – in other words, an unbroken hour of music. If this sounds daunting, relax. The symphony has been described as “cinematic,” a crime as far as the critics are concerned. It is like an enormous screen on which events are graphically portrayed, a story, a lesson and a warning all intertwined. And it uses real tunes, some of them folk tunes, others revolutionary songs woven into the orchestral texture.

There is no need to be “intellectual” about this music: it speaks directly, film music without the film. If you enjoyed the music to “Titanic” (not just the Celine Dion bit!) you’ll enjoy this.

*** *** The First Movement: The Palace Square *** ***

An intense and hushed opening for strings with harp sets the scene – a vast, space outside the Winter Palace, St Petersburg, on a freezing cold January day. Quietly menacing drum beats answer, setting the tone of disquiet. Trumpet and horn calls and soft side-drum rattles add to the sense of unease, a conviction that something awful is going to happen. Unsurprisingly, this movement has often been used by film-makers for background music to build up an atmosphere of tension and suspense.

Eventually a sad-sounding melody is played on the flute, a song probably well–known to the Russian audience, describing the feelings of a prisoner who has lost all hope. Briefly this provokes an impassioned climax which sinks down once again into the prevailing atmosphere of eerie unease in which another sad song intertwines with trumpet calls from afar. Drum beats are a recurring reminder of the menace to come.

The movement ends (after 20 minutes) quietly with distant trumpets ushering in the

*** *** Second Movement: The Ninth Of January ** ***

Double basses almost inaudibly play a scurrying tune over which the woodwind play a slower version of the same tune, a quote from one of Shostakovich’s earlier works to which he set the words “O Tsar our little father, look around you, life is impossible because of the Tsar’s servants against whom we are helpless” (all right, it probably sounds better in Russian). The scurrying pattern depicts the crowds hurrying to the Palace Square for a peaceful protest. For the first time in the symphony the weight of the full orchestra is felt as this tune is tossed to and fro, an awesome noise. Eventually the clamour subsides, the main tune sounding quietly while the distant drumbeats tell us something is not right. Plucked strings bring the music to a faltering halt.

The slow music with which the symphony opened, depicting the Palace Square, returns, played softly on woodwind, under which drumbeats again sound a soft warning. Distant trumpets are heard. The crowd waits silently…

The silence is abruptly shattered by a side-drum which ushers in a musical chase (all right, it’s called a fugue if you want to get technical, though it isn’t necessary to know this to appreciate it) based on the persistent drumbeats from the first movement, now transformed into an urgent gallop - the Tsar’s troops are on the move. The music suddenly turns terrifyingly loud as the might of the huge percussion section is unleashed: military side-drum rattling is mixed with pounding timpani (kettledrums) depicting guns exploding into the crowd while above it all a tam-tam (think of it a cross between a gong and a cymbal) cuts huge swathes of sound through the musical texture, a sound beloved of film-makers in their search for violent effect. The percussion alternate with the whole orchestra as though competing to see which makes the biggest noise. At the climax of all this a brief tune, more of a motto really, rises above the clamour, a sort of musical cry of anger…

(The effect of this section is amazing. Played loudly it at once exhilarates and horrifies the listener and it was this more than any other part of the work that gave it its instant appeal to us way back when we first discovered it. If you want to try it, it’s about 15 minutes into the second movement.)

Without warning the clamour stops, to be replaced with weirdly trilling violins recalling the opening of the symphony. The troops have gone; the Palace Square is silent again, but now stained red with blood and littered with the bodies of over a thousand dead and dying…

Softly, the music limps towards the

*** *** Third Movement: In Memoriam *** ***

As its subtitle suggests, this is a lament for the dead. It starts with a gentle, melancholy tune played by the violas, from a Shostakovich song entitled “You Fell As A Sacrifice.” There is a steady build-up of emotion, which explodes into full rage as the whole orchestra pounds out a single repeated note like a series of hammer blows, a metaphorical fist waving defiantly at the sky. Eventually the anger subsides into grief and then into quiet despair as the viola tune returns, the music fizzling out into a series of quiet, plucked chords from the strings - which are violently brushed aside by the

*** *** Fourth Movement: Tocsin *** ***

I had to look up the word Tocsin. It apparently means “a bell rung to sound an alarm.” The movement is Shostakovich’s warning to people to be on guard against the abuse of power by their leaders. It is in three unequal sections, the first of which is a march-like series of Russian revolutionary tunes, some of them quite banal in nature but with a compulsive forward momentum. It culminates in the a parody of the sort of music that used to be played at some of those Red-Square military parades over which Kremlin heirachy presided with grim, unsmiling faces. At the end of this section comes a sudden, almighty crash of sound (that tam-tam again!) followed by a return to the Palace Square music, played almost inaudibly. A sad cor-anglais (a sort of bass oboe) plays a tune hinted at in the second movement and which I described as a cry of anger when it first appeared. It is a song Shostakovich had written earlier and which began, “Bare your heads! On this day the shadow of a long night passed over the earth…” Now it is played in full, more in sadness than in anger.

The cor anglais fades away and is replaced by a most extraordinary sonority – a sort of seismic disturbance from deep in the orchestra, followed by the scurrying music that opened the second movement, this time played on a bass clarinet. According to Stephen Jackson’s book on Shostakovich, to which I am indebted for some of the background material for this review, this represents the souls of the dead rising up and accusing their political masters. The sound builds up in fury and intensity, the first few bars of “Bare Your Heads” intoned ever louder, culminating in the dry rattle of a xylophone heard over the full orchestra. The bells begin to chime, sounding their warning. The music rushes towards a climactic conclusion, the bells alternating between minor and major and settling on minor as the music abruptly fades away; there is no final optimism.

I have never yet heard a live performance of this work that failed to raise the audience to a total frenzy of excitement and wild applause, such is the power of the music to totally take one over. If I had any hair to mention it would be standing on end at this point...

*** *** The Recording *** ***

Getting to know this symphony, regarded by a few of us (too few!) as one of the greatest of the twentieth century is remarkably easy on the pocket. The performance by the London Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Shostakovich’s long time friend and champion, Mstislav Rostropovich (the cellist for whom Shostakovich wrote his two cello concertos and affectionately known as Slava) is as good as any you’ll find. And it only costs £4.99. It comes on the orchestra’s own label, LSO Live and but for the fact that we are told in the notes that it comes from a live performance you’d never guess it – no coughs or sneezes from the audience, not even any final applause; apparently, the audience was left stunned at what they heard and it was several seconds before the went wild with enthusiasm, which is not caught on this disc (a pity really, as I find I want to cheer frenziedly at the end).

The sound is clear and has tremendous presence and power, though you may want to turn up the volume in the quieter passages. The crucial bells, heard only in that final clamour, are well caught. Other fine performances are marred by the inability of the recording engineers to capture them over the rest of the noise the orchestra is making.

I have six recordings of this symphony and this is my favourite. The interpretation avoids some of the excesses of other conductors and has the ring of authenticity about it. The insert notes are comprehensive and well written. If you do decide to try the work, avoid the Naxos version. Although it too is conducted by an old friend of the composer, Ladislav Slovak, it is of such low voltage that it wouldn’t power a torch – sadly, one of Naxos’ few failures for me.

You may be lucky enough to find, as I did recently, the complete set of Shostakovich symphonies (11 discs) at Superdrug (yes really!) for the silly price of – wait for it - £3.99! This is conducted throughout by Rudolf Barshai who is a viola player and who was – yes, you guessed it – a friend of the composer. This too is well played and recorded though the Eleventh is just a shade lower in voltage than the white heat of Rostropovich. Still, at that price…

The LSO Live disc number is LSO 0030 and it can be ordered at any good record shop. Alternatively it may be ordered via the LSO website at www.lso.co.uk.

*** *** And Finally *** ***

“Father, what if they hang you for this?” asked the young Maxim Shostakovich at the first rehearsal…
 

...less