P0141. DMITRI SHOSTAKOVITCH: Shostakovitch Plays Shostakovitch (w.Samosud; Gauk; Oistrakh; Sadlo): Piano Concerto No. 1 in C minor Op. 35; Piano Concerto No. 2 in F major Op. 102; Concertino for Two Pianos Op. 94; Piano Trio No. 2 in E minor Op. 67. (Korea) Yedang 10022, recorded 1946-1959. Long out-of-print, final copy!
"Had he wished, Dmitri Shostakovich could have made a career as a virtuoso pianist. Certainly he kept up his technique enough to play his two concertos at breakneck speeds, as his Russian recordings of these works prove. Tempos are quicker than in his cleaner, superior-sounding Paris recordings for EMI under Cluytens, and accentuation is more aggressive (the second concerto’s outer movements, for example). But sonic and executional problems persist. In the first concerto, the scruffy Moscow Philharmonic musicians keep up by the skin of their collective teeth. That is to say, when you can hear them, for the composer is balanced so far forward that you wonder if the engineer had stuffed a microphone smack dab into the soundboard and way too close to the awful trumpet soloist. And the ill-tuned winds in the second concerto easily yield to their piquant French counterparts. Still, any pianist taking up these works should hear the solo parts delivered from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.
A delightful, unbuttoned performance of the eight-minute Concertino for two pianos features the composer’s son Maxim at the second keyboard. Shostakovich is on his best pianistic form in the famous 1946 recording of the second piano trio, where violinist David Oistrakh and cellist Milos Sadlo collaborate with sensitivity and verve. It’s a steadier, better-controlled interpretation than the recording preserving Shostakovich and the work’s creators (violinist Dmitri Tsiganov and cellist Sergei Shrinsky). If anyone cares, Yedang’s transfers are slightly fuller than the identical program released on the discontinued Revelation label"
- Jed Distler, ClassicsToday
“All Shostakovich's recordings are distinguished by his masterly technique and the clean, non-legato touch, which is wholly in keeping with the character of his music. Yet beautiful tone and broad cantilenas are also in evidence, notably…in some of the preludes and fugues. He never indulges in superficial effects for effect's sake. His playing conveys his compositional intentions with uncommon clarity and subtlety, and is in many respects individual and inspiring. It demonstrates the versatility of Shostakovich's exceptional talent, and earns him his place in the tradition of great pianism among major composers of our century: Rachmaninov, Bartók and Prokofiev….Within a few years [of Stalin’s arrival], Shostakovich...found himself forced to toe a musical party line and, worse, faced the possibility of total isolation, even execution, when the dictator stormed out of a theater, infuriated by his opera LADY MACBETH OF MTENSK. He managed to rehabilitate himself with the authorities but thereafter had to work under cover, composing formally-approved works, many of which contained hidden secondary meanings. Following the death of Stalin and the composer’s unquestioned international popularity, he remained at the forefront of Russian music but forever cautious, and it was probably only in his late years that he could compose without Soviet officialdom breathing down his neck.”
- Ned Ludd
“… as you know, Shostakovitch was vilified by Stalin for the opera LADY MACBETH and, while rehearsing the Fourth Symphony in Leningrad, decided to scrap it. I think he suffered very much. He must have felt he was a very talented man. He already had success and a certain recognition….Here is an individual who is suffering from the injustice of the world. It's not just a reaction to the world that is happening around him. It's already an inner problem which became one of his hallmarks.
But what is interesting to me is that it doesn't sound like self-pity, which you can find in Chekhov and Mahler for example. I don't find self-pity in Shostakovich. Although it is his torture, it becomes sublimated, totally transcended. It becomes the tragedy of an individual, not of Shostakovich but of an individual, a victim of the Soviet system….Along with his grotesque satire and disdain for the trivia around him, this is the strongest point of his greatest output. It is the tragedy and the darkness of the life of an individual within totalitarian oppression….You see, with the constant brainwashing of the propaganda in the Soviet Union it would have been difficult to remain sane for the sanest of people. It is very hard for you to conceive how it was, to be living in the former Soviet Union. A nightmare, really. You can become a schizophrenic, not in the fullest psychological sense perhaps, but in the sense that you try to retain your 'inner world' somehow and yet in public, in your daily work and relationships with other people, you have to be someone else. You can't really be yourself, you can't speak your mind. An idea... it has an imprint on almost everybody, and anybody. There must be some exceptions, I suppose, but not so many. I believe Solzhenitsyn is one of those who managed to fight and win, in a way, retaining his sanity. But people are different. Some very intelligent people, people of great integrity even, sometimes did succumb to the Soviet propaganda. Sometimes they became only fellow-travellers, sometimes even adherents of the Soviet system, believing sincerely that this system might have some future, in spite of the terror, the murders and the killings and so on. So therefore just to put a stamp on Shostakovich as an enigma is simplifying the thing. It is a case of a person with a great degree of awareness of life, with great gifts in his profession, great integrity as an individual - there is no question about that. He might have been influenced by the constant propaganda - not to the degree that he would approve, but to a degree where he could see enough hope that the system could somehow transform itself; that maybe all the sufferings would not be in vain. Seeing millions being killed in the camps, sometimes you might think 'Well, it's a terrible sacrifice, but maybe something will come out of it'. Imagine the psyche of a person like this. So let's give him the benefit of the doubt.
Who could not fail to see that the system didn't work? Yes, he wanted to pay his 'due' to the Party, for this they might leave him alone. It's like 'Newspeak', Orwell, '1984', and all that. You're one person with yourself, or with your closest friend, and you're not quite the same with other people, because you're afraid to be. Look at Gorbachev, for instance. He obviously wanted to change the country, no question about it. He knew the only way was to join the Party, to get to the top, if he's lucky, and then change things. Lots of people joined the Party in the last couple of decades for that same reason, because although they knew the country was going downhill, without going through the Party apparatus, nothing could ever be changed. Because the Party was the only instrument that could do anything. It had total authority. Finally, I'm happy to say, it happened. Gorbachev and these people....shifted the balance within the Party. Look at him….He couldn't escape his background and upbringing. Although his mind was going ahead, his background held him back. Naturally, Shostakovich is a much 'greater' individual than Gorbachev in the sense of awareness of life. But something must have had an effect on him, from what was around him. Maybe a part of him thought that something could be changed within the system. That's why I think some of the ‘Party pieces’ are not just paying off the Party, but express some hope too, if only a tiny percentage.”
- Vladimir Ashkenazy, interviewed by John Stratford & John Riley, October 1991, DSCH