Shostakovich (1906-1975)
- Symphony No. 10
Shostakovich’s
symphonic structures often confound traditional
analysis. Therefore traditional analysts
often, mistakenly, dimiss his symphonies
as “imposters”. The reason is simple: his
structures are not purely musical, but driven
by dramatic designs - not always, but “often”.
Where this dramatic aspect predominates,
you will hear accusations of “propagandist!”
Where the musical predominates, Shostakovich
seems a good, if wayward, composer. However,
where the two are finely balanced, the music
flares with incandescent power that fries
the analysts. Our ears insist instinctively
that the Tenth Symphony is a masterpiece,
but to comprehend its construction, to “prove”
it is a symphony, we must divine the drama.
Where
to start? Firstly, the context. Following
World War II, Uncle Joe screwed his totalitarian
vice even tighter, apparently a kindly gesture
to ensure that the people didn’t naively
confuse “victory” with “freedom”. Shostakovich,
for his “crime” of writing a Ninth Symphony
that gave joy to the people rather than
an Ode to Joy to the State, was censured..
In 1948 the mounting storm-clouds broke,
drenching the Russian artistic community
in the downpour of the Zhdanov Purge. True
to form, Shostakovich’s resolve hardened.
Dutifully, he kept his head down and appeared
to devote himself to churning out sweet-meats
for the State. Secreted in his bottom drawer,
amongst other works, the Tenth Symphony
took shape.
We
have it from the horse’s mouth that the
second movement’s a “portrait of Stalin”.
This would make sense only if the rest of
the symphony was somehow related. Let’s
try that for size. Free-flowing, short but
savage, it’s hardly the expected definition
of a dictator. However Stalin, through his
own incessant activity, spread fear to stifle
activity. Consider this: “Each night, the
‘un-personed’ one paced restlessly in the
gloom of his room, paused, listened,
then continued pacing. His thoughts - helplessness,
fear, resentment - gradually coagulated
into bitter, impotent anger. As weariness
dissipated his fury, he faced the window.
He saw no hope in the cold, grey light of
dawn.” That could easily describe Shostakovich’s
own predicament. It could also describe
the dramatic scenario of the first movement.
Following
the sudden demise of Stalin’s juggernaut,
the DSCH “signature” does not immediately
celebrate, but cowers in the third movement’s
thematic undergrowth. At the movement’s
mysterious, astonishingly graphic core,
an immutable horn motive conducts a “holy
exorcism” of the tyrant’s thematic ghost,
giving DSCH the courage to dance, hand in
hand with the horn motive, stamping on the
ashes of evil. If this motive does indeed
represent Elmira Nazirova, Shostakovich’s
beloved pupil throughout that time, we can
guess that for him her youth and vitality
were an unwavering symbol of hope, which
encouraged this private act of catharsis.
It
follows (doesn’t it?) that the opening of
the finale is a new dawn, its sensual coiling
supplanting the unremittingly grey dawns
of the first movement, and at the movement’s
central climax the deliriously unfettered
bellow of “I am DSCH!” is Shostakovich’s
moment of public catharsis.
If
there’s truth in my words, then the Tenth
is a profoundly personal expression of what
life was like, not just for Shostakovich
himself, but for millions of individual
people. Even if you disagree with my particular
interpretation you still have a dramatic
skeleton, a symphonic logic of awesome potential.
Flesh it out as you will, and it will remain
devastating.
Note
originally commissioned by the Vancouver
Symphony for a concert given on 4 October
2003
.
© Paul Serotsky
37, Mayfield Grove,
Brighouse,
West Yorkshire HD6 4EE
contact@serotsky.f9.co.uk
Conditions
for use apply. Details here
Copyright in these notes is retained by the author without whose prior written permission they may not be used, reproduced, or kept in any form of data storage system. Permission for use will generally be granted on application, free of charge subject to the conditions that (a) the author is duly credited, and (b) a donation is made to a charity of the author's choice.
Return to: