Oberon's Glade

Tag: Dmitri Shostakovich

  • Shostakovich Sonatas @ Carnegie Hall

    Shostakovich

    ~ Author: Oberon

    Wednesday May 28th, 2025 – Evgeny Kissin was joined by three renowned string soloists for a program of Shostakovich sonatas this evening at Carnegie Hall. It was one of the most thrilling concerts I have ever attended. The atmosphere in the Hall was palpable; aside from some cellphones going off at the the wrong moments, silence reigned. The musicians seemed bent on preventing applause between movements, keeping their bows poised over the strings in order to sustain the atmosphere. The three sonatas were presented in order of their composition: cello first (1934), followed by the violin (1968), with the viola (1975) played following the interval.

    Gautier Capuçon and Mr. Kissin strode onto the Carnegie Hall stage to a warm greeting. Dmitri Shostakovich’s Cello Sonata in D-minor, Op. 40, was composed composed during a period of political and social upheaval in the Soviet Union, and the music reflects the unsettled atmosphere of the time…and of ours, now. The cellist sometimes allowed a touch of grittiness into his tone, which was truly evocative.

    The opening Allegro non troppo is gently introduced by Mr. Kissin at the Steinway. A lovely theme gives way to vivid animation from both players. The mood gets dreamy, with M. Capuçon taking up a gorgeous cello melody that turns passionate. A super-pianissimo moment briefly interrupts the music’s flow, and then a sense of longing grows from repeated cello tones, displaying Mr. Capuçon’s marvelous control. Plucking introduces a dance, and mood swings continue – one such bringing a haunting theme: quiet and mysterious. Single notes from the piano invite deep cello playing; Kissin’s tone takes on an almost grumpy sound. Fantastic!

    Staying in an Allegro mode, scintillating piano and dancing cello illuminate the second movement. Cello glissandi and insistent keyboard rhythms pop up as the dance sails onward. A sudden stop, and then the Largo commences with incredibly hushed music from M. Capuçon’s cello. The players’ quiet intensity creates a mysterious atmosphere. The cello tears at my heart, rising from its lowest range in music filled with longing and then bursting with passion before returning to the depths. A remarkable quietude fills the Hall, then a crescendo before a fade-out, with the piano on high longing for peace. Things darken; spellbinding control from both musicians casts a spell over us.

    With dancing motifs played as if compelled by an unseen force, the final Allegro lets us savour Mr. Kissin’s glorious virtuosity, whilst M. Capuçon produces an amazing stuttering effect with his cello as these two paragons delight us with their magical partnership, bringing the first of the concert’s enthusiastic ovations.

    Gidon Kremer walked out onto the Carnegie stage cautiously, to an welcome. Now 78 (two years older than myself!), the legendary violinist responded to Menthisiastic r. Kissin’s straightforward piano introduction of the Shostakovich opus 134 with a sinuous theme. For a while, simple musical lines are exchanged, and then a sprightly dance emerges. The music is subtly playful until there’s a rise of passion. The buzzy tone of the violin then resumes the dance, somewhat hesitantly. The high-register violin filigree creates an insectuous sound before a slow fade-away.

    The ensuing Allegretto opens with a nervous dance; this movement is lively, witty, and ironic. It’s music that veers high and dips low, with some sparkly effects from the violin. A sense of urgency takes over as the music presses forward, Kissin playing high and bright as Mr. Kremer handles the music with with amazing dexterity. The violin whines, the piano swirls onward: high, fast, phenomenal music-making!

    The sonata concludes with a Largo, the pianist striking single, dotty notes as the violinist plucks away. Mr. Kremer’s playing turns ethereal, poised on high with amazing control. A keyboard dance rhythm draws restless playing from the violin. Now Mr. Kissin introduces a sense of grandeur into the music, leading to an angular violin cadenza. A rocking motif from both players carries them into a series of tremelos as the sonata ends. The Kremer/Kissin duo elicited a fervent ovation from the crowd.  

    After the interval, an artist new to me – the Ukrainian-British violist/conductor Maxim Rysanov – joined Mr. Kissin for a revelatory performance of the Shostakovich Viola Sonata, opus 147. This fascinating work, which I have only heard played live two or three times previously, really got to my soul tonight: the kind of deeply immersive musical experience that happens so rarely. 

    The opening Moderato begins very quietly, with soft viola plucking – slow and pensive – as the piano joins, dark and rather ominous. A dirge-like sense of foreboding develops leading to a burst of power. Restlessness overtakes the music; a piano solo and eerie, shivering resonances from the viola develop into a flash of grandeur before an extraordinarily subtle viola passage is heard, ending with staccati, and a sustained fading away.

    Now comes the Allegretto, commencing with a dance à la Russe. Mr. Rysanov’s playing is so suave and assured. Boldness from the Kissin keyboard and plucking from the violist lead to a heartfelt unison song, which gets quite grand.

    After a pause, the Adagio commences with a sorrowing viola theme which gains poignant support from the piano. Every note from both players seemed like a thing of value, something to treasure…such incredible playing. The spirit of Beethoven hovers on the air as the rhythmic signature of the Moonlight Sonata casts its spell overall. A viola cadenza – lovingly fashioned by Mr. Rysanov – draws us on to the sonata’s magnificent finish. Throughout this movement, I had been in another time and place, far from the chaotic madness of the world. A massive, roaring standing ovation filled the Hall, and it was still resounding as we emerged into the downpour…

    ~ Oberon

  • BSO x 2 ~ Mostly Shostakovich

    Dimitri-Shostakovich

    Above: Dimitri Shostakovich

    ~ Author: Ben Weaver

    Wednesday April 23rd and Thursday April 24th, 2025 – Dmitri Shostakovich was the focus of Boston Symphony Orchestra’s two-concert visit to Carnegie Hall this week, under the leadership of its music director Andris Nelsons. Shostakovich’s son Maxim, dedicatee and first performer of the Second Piano Concerto, was in attendance on the second evening.

    Shostakovich died 50 years ago, and his famous struggles living and composing in a totalitarian regime, always one offense away from the gulag, sadly remain relevant today – not just in Russia, but in the United States as well. Cellist Yo-Yo Ma made a brief statement from the stage, quoting Josef Stalin’s famous line: “A single death is a tragedy, a million deaths are a statistic.” Ma pleaded that no death should ever be a statistic, and he wanted to honor anyone suffering loss of life or dignity. Ma did not name any names, but the meaning is loud and clear as our own US government is disappearing human beings into foreign gulags. For anyone who argues that artists should stay out of politics, people like Shostakovich remain an important reminder that art has launched revolutions, and if art was not political, it would never be banned.

    Ma Cello-Concerto-No.-1-Robert-Torres

    Above: Yo-Yo Ma, photo by Robert Torres

    Cello Concerto No. 1 in E-flat major, Op. 107, composed in 1959, was dedicated to Mstislav Rostropovich (as was, incidentally, the 2nd.) Yo-Yo Ma has been performing it for much of his career and his deep affection for it is clear. His warning about tyranny just before the performance was reflected in his approach to the jolly opening tune, which Ma played with a rawness that made it darker and more sinister. Irony and the grotesque are deeply ingrained in Soviet art, a tool for plausible deniability which anyone who wished to survive purges needed to master. The Playbill notes by Harlow Robinson point out that Shostakovich buried in the score a small, distorted fragment from Josef Stalin’s favorite Georgian folk song, “Suliko” – something even Rostropovich did not spot until Shostakovich finally pointed it out. (Stalin died in 1953, six years before the Concerto was composed.) As an encore Ma joined Boston Symphony’s entire cello section and they delivered a jaunty version of a traditional Yiddish tune “Moyshele,” arranged for a cello ensemble by BSO’s principal cellist Blaise Déjardin, who also contributed magnificent solo playing.

    Two late symphonies by Shostakovich received searing performances under Andris Nelson’s leadership. Over the last few years maestro Nelsons performed and recorded all of Shostakovich’s symphonies with the Boston Symphony Orchestra for Deutsche Grammophon. It is an excellent cycle (which also includes the Piano Concertos with Yuja Wang, Violin Concertos with Baiba Skride, Cello Concertos with Mr. Ma, and the opera Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk District. I have found much of these performances excellent.)

    Shosty

    Above: Maestro Nelsons, photo by Chris Lee

    Symphony No. 11 in G minor, Op. 103 (composed in 1956-57) carries the subtitle “The Year 1905.” The work depicts the failed revolution against the Russian monarchy and earned Shostakovich the Lenin prize.

    The opening movement Adagio, subtitled “The Palace Square,” is dark and gloomy, with dull strikes from the timpani foreshadowing events to come. Nelsons’s deliberate tempo set the mood well, building tension to the bloodshed to come. (I also noticed there is a section here John Williams “borrowed” for T-Rex in the score for “Jurassic Park.”) The brutal second movement (Allegro, “The 9th of January”) depicts the “Bloody Sunday” at the Winter Palace where peaceful protesters were massacred by the guard. The pounding march depicting the assault was led by BSO’s excellent percussion section. A mournful “Memory Eternal” and defiant “Tocsin” movements (a celesta taking the place of a tocsin bell) were emotionally shattering under maestro Nelson’s leadership.

    Shostakovich’s last Symphony, No. 15 in A major, Op. 141 (composed in 1970-71) was originally intended to celebrate his own 65th birthday. Several medical emergencies, including a heart attack, delayed its composition and premiere, which finally took place under his son Maxim’s direction in 1972. It’s most unusual aspect is presence of extensive unaltered quotations from Rossini’s William Tell Overture and Wagner’s Götterdämmerung and Tristan und Isolde, composers and works not immediately identified with Shostakovich. The full mystery of why he included these specific quotations remains a matter of speculation. I’ve always found the “Lone Ranger” theme to be especially jarring, but it’s important to note that Shostakovich is highly unlikely to have been familiar with that American TV series, so his point of reference to that music would have been very different from ours. Musically the choices do fit into the fabric of the symphony. The raucous opening movement – which Shostakovich ones called a “toy shop” – is a perfect place for the galloping Rossini tune. And Wagner’s music is a perfect fit for the stillness of the symphony’s latter movements. Shostakovich also quotes some of his own music. The closing percussion – like tickings of a clock – immediately remind one of the ending of the second movement of his Symphony No. 4. Andris Nelsons and his Boston forces delivered a largely superb performance, although I think maestro Nelsons’ lethargic take on the Adagio (second and fourth movements) was a misstep. They dragged and lost focus, no matter how beautifully the orchestra played. But special mention to concertmaster Nathan Cole, principal cellist Blaise Déjardin, and flautist Lorna McGhee for superb solo contributions.

    Bso uchida

     

    Above: Maestro Nelsons and Mitsuko Uchida take a bow; photo by Chris Lee

     

    Ludwig van Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 4 in G major, Op. 58 opened BSO’s two-night residence at Carnegie, with the always brilliant Mitsuko Uchida as soloist. The concerto has often been interpreted as Orfeo calming the furies (particularly in the magical second movement, where calmness by the soloist is interrupted by angry strings) – and so Ms. Uchida bravely faced a consumptive audience member who began proudly coughing as Ms. Uchida began to play. After a few calming chords, Ms. Uchida stopped and held up her hands in the direction of the patient. The offender took her time exiting the auditorium, coughing non-stop. We could still hear her coughing up a lung from the hallway, but that’s the most we could hope for.

     

    Finally the performance resumed with Ms. Uchida delivering an deeply moving performance. The work is full of conflict, but – somewhat unusual for Beethoven – if his voice its the soloist, he calms the other side instead of fighting it. Such dignified understatements were presented by Ms. Uchida with unaffected dignity and charm. That stunning second movement, with angry strings being repeatedly silenced by the soothing soloist, is among Beethoven’s most powerful and beautiful statements, and Ms. Uchida is simply second-to-none with sincerity and beauty. The rollicking Rondo: Vivace that closes the concerto is Beethoven’s victory over adversity dance, but one filled with humor. Here, too, Ms. Uchida played with unabashed, contagious joy.

     

    Uchida 2


    Backstage: Maestro Nelsons and Ms. Uchida; photo by Chris Lee

     

    Andris Nelsons is an excellent accompanist, which I’ve had a chance to note many times. His respect for his soloists, keeping the orchestra from burying them, is an admirable trait – one I wish a few other notable conductors would also acquire.

    ~ Ben Weaver

    (Chris Lee’s performance photos courtesy of Carnegie Hall)