Dmitry Shostakovich About Himself and His Times - @lbiz - en - 1981 - ds343 - PDFCOFFEE.COM (2024)

@LBiz: en/1981/DS343:More Pages:DMITRY SHOSTaKOVICH AbOUT HIMSElF aNd HIS TIMES> > Contents Index Card Form

Views 28 Downloads 4 File size 2MB

Report DMCA / Copyright

DOWNLOAD FILE

Recommend Stories

Citation preview

Progress Publishers Moscow

__SUBTITLE__ About Himself and His Times [4]

Compiled by L. Grigoryev, Ya. Platek ~

Translated from the Russian by Anj>;us and Neilian Roxburgh ~

Designed by V. I. Chistyakov ~

CBOPHHK Ha aittjitiicKQ

__COPYRIGHT__

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

© «CoBeTCKnft KOMno3HTOp», 1980
English translation © Progress Publishers, 1981. Illustrated

90103-327

5e3 oQ-bXBJi.
4905000000

5 __ALPHA_LVL1__ Introduction

'For many years now," wrote Dmitry Shostakovich, in 1965, 'it has been on my mind that I should start writing my memoirs, that I should write about the people who have been important in my life and for my music.' This intention was never realised. Eight years later the composer noted: 'What a pity I have not kept a diary or note-book, or written memoirs. I have met many interesting people and seen many interesting things... No, I cannot say that I live in the past; I live now, and will live longer-a hundred years! But it is important also to remember one's past. However, I have not given up hope of returning to this.' Now, of course, as the life of this great contemporary of ours sinks gradually into the past, we are bound to feel sorry that he left no detailed autobiographical material, which might have served as an in' valuable commentary to his monumental musical legacy.

But did he really leave nothing? Certainly, Shostakovich did not keep a diary, and the reminiscences which he noted down from time to time are fragmentary. Over a period of almost fifty years, however, i. e. throughout his adult life, the composer wrote many articles for the press, spoke at various conferences and was interviewed by hundreds of journalists. He spoke about many aspects of his life and times: about the global problems of music and those which directly affected him; about the defence of his country and the struggle for peace; about the content of his own works, his reasons for writing them and his plans for the future; about the great musicians and writers of the past and about his friends and contemporaries; about important events and fleeting, but vivid, impressions... In short, his utterances were extremely diverse, covering almost everything that closely affected his own life, his country and the world-that world which is embodied so profoundly in his music. Shostakovich's words, then, are also part of his legacy, affording us deeper insight into his music.

In his youth, Dmitry Shostakovich made a pledge to himself: '/ shall work ceaselessly in the field of music, to which I shall dedicate my whole life.' And indeed, even when struck down by illness, he continued to compose. 'One must work continuously,' he asserted, ''and thai applies to every composer. If ata_gwen time you A cannotjarrit^ anything great, then write somethim_small._a_bagatelle^ Coming from Shostakovich's lips, these were not merely fine words: both in his youth and in old age he devoted himself utterly to music.

This being the case, it is remarkable that Shostakovich managed to find any time at all for public speeches, for meeting journalists and for writing articles. Of course, these activities were not at all regular: some years, for various reasons, they slackened off considerably, while in other years his `non-musical' output was quite prodigious. But taken in sequence, all his statements, his 'diary entries', allow one to retrace the life of a composer who could not conceive of himself without society, out of touch with people.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

6 __RUNNING_HEADER__ Introduction

Even when arranged in chronological order, of course, Shostakovich's speeches and so on are devoid of any system, and lack the intimacy of a diary. On the contrary, they are mostly the composer's response to certain concrete, and isolated events. But they do build up a fairly complete picture of Shostakovich's views and principles, showing their constant development. His appraisals of many things, and his attitudes to the work of certain composers (e.g., Scriabin and Wagner) evolved considerably over the years. Taken together, Shostakovich's articles, speeches, notes and interviews allow us to follow the course of his musical career, to feel the atmosphere of his age, and to sense the impulses which inspired his muse. Not least, they conjure up a vivid picture of one of the century's greatest musicians - both as an artist and as a man. Basically, his utterances amount to a kind of 'Master's diary' -not an intimate, private diary, but a diary open to all, `written' in front of our eyes. This, perhaps, is where the unique importance of Shostakovich's literary legacy lies.

Finally, the enormous quantity of written material left by Shostakovich testifies equally to the extent of his public activities and to the constant attention given him by the press. Over several decades, the main Soviet newspapers---Pravda, Izvestia, Literaturnaya Gazeta, Sovetskaya Kultura and various local papers from Moscow, Leningrad and other cities-regularly published interviews with the composer and articles by him. The purpose of this book is to bring many of these together and make this 'open diary' available to all who hold the name of Dmitry Shostakovich dear.

It was a similar aim that determined how the collection was compiled. The book contains all sorts of writings of various importance-^rom extracts taken from important articles to short notes on topical matters; they are arranged, irrespective of importance, in strict chronological order, according to year and (with very few exceptions) date of publication. This principle is not strictly academic, but serves the book's main purpose-to present the composer's utterances in their natural time sequence.^^*^^

It should be pointed out that this book is not an exhaustive collection of all Shostakovich's writings. The academic analysis and publication of the whole of his '' literary' legacy is a task for the future. We feel, however, that the extracts included here are not unrelated, and for all their diversity they are united by the integrity of the composer's personality.

The compilers have included only material intended for publication by Shostakovich himself, more or less ignoring his personal correspondence (with the exception of _-_-_

^^*^^ The entire text is reproduced here in the form in which it was first published in Shostakovich's •j lifetime, preserving the names of works, musical terms and quotations as originally used by the composer. ;'\1 The transcriptions of recorded speeches are published in the same farm,-Ed.

7 a few fragments whose publication was approved by Shostakovich himself). We felt it would have been wrong to include the composer's correspondence because of the http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

attitude to this delicate question which he himself exhaustively and unambiguously expressed in his. article on Chekhov: '/ am very sorry that Chekhov's correspondence with Olga Knipper has been published, much of it being so intimate that one would rather not see it in printed form. I say this particularly because of the writer's extremely exacting attitude to his works, which he never would publish until they were brought to perfection'

The principle by which the book was compiled also dictated the nature of the commentaries which accompany the selected texts for each year. They, too, are not scholarly in the strictest sense, but merely a first attempt to outline the most important facts and landmarks from Shostakovich's life and music, as a background to the main section-the composer's own words. This is their only function. And for this reason the commentaries - a year-by-year account of the main events in the composer's life, taken from various periodicals - are by no means comprehensive or particularly detailed.

There is an enormous quantity of material available, and it has only just begun to be studied. The composer's future biographers will have great scope. Meanwhile, this book offers Shostakovich's admirers only a brief sketch of his life.

The reader will notice how the character and content---and, to a certain extent, the language and style - of Shostakovich's ''diary entries' change over the years. This is inevitable. His views evolved, his interests, likes and tastes all developed. Much that seemed essential in his youth moved into the background; extreme views were often tempered, and things said, perhaps, on the spur of the moment were displaced by mature, firm convictions. But Shostakovich's unshakable belief in the great mission of art, the passionate belief of an artist and humanist, can be heard clearly in utterances separated by several decades. And in these utterances we can discern the most essential traits of Shostakovich as artist, citizen and man, traits which remained constant throughout all these decades: honesty before himself and others, high principles, a gentle disposition, reluctance to compromise in his art, frankness, and a complete lack of affectation or ostentation.

In analysing Shostakovich's life and music, one cannot avoid the question of the composer's attitude to criticism and self-criticism. From the very outset, of course, his music gave rise to heated arguments, which continued right through his life, though they were gradually drowned by a chorus of praise. Like any composer of his stature, Shostakovich found neither immediate nor universal recognition. And the criticism that came his way was not always meant kindly. This, as we have said, was almost bound to happen, as it did with Beethoven, Brahms, Wagner, Glinka, Chaikovsky, Mussorgsky, Prokofiev... But what is most striking is Shostakovich's own attitude 8 towards criticism. Unlike some of his colleagues, who publicly-declared that the critics did not interest them, but secretly built up a bitter hatred of them, Shostakovich always-even when the criticism was manifestly unfair, and when he could not agree with it---tried to extract some benefit from it and saw it as a stimulus to look again at his own course and perhaps take corrective measures. For this reason, Shostakovich's words about Prokofiev, a composer whom he valued extremely highly, can equally be applied to himself: (A man of immense creative powers, Prokofiev was able to pick out from the melee that surrounded his works those arguments which were fair and of value, and paid close attention even to the most insignificant comments. But Prokofiev did not follow criticism blindly. He boldly defended those works which he considered to require no alteration.'

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

Dmitry Shostakovich was cast in the same mould. For all his mildness, delicacy

and sensitivity, when it came to questions of principle, when it came to the essence of

his life,..music, he would stand absolutely firm. His statements, too, illustrate both

his delicacy and his intolerance of shortcomings and of everything that seemed to him

i foreign to the high ideals of Soviet life and socialist art.

One of the composer's biographers once noted that Shostakovich did not like speaking about himself or his works, because everything was already said, fully and eloquently, in his music. Almost all those who knew the composer had this impression, especially as his natural modesty, shyness even, always seemed to hinder him from speaking about himself. Now, however, looking at all his statements as a whole, one begins to doubt the truthfulness of this idea-at least partly. Perhaps Shostakovich really did not like speaking about his music, but nonetheless he often did so (though probably rather reluctantly), apparently aware of the needfulness and usefulness of such comment for many listeners, as well as to avoid misrepresentations (his remarks on programme music are particularly characteristic). The brilliant composer's personality and work were always indivisible. As the conductor Yevgeny Mravinsky said, 'For me, Shostakovich's greatness lies above all in the significance of that social and moral idea which runs all through his work.'

Always, even in times of serious illness, Dmitry Shostakovich remained accessible and open to people. And it is this quality., we feel, that makes it both possible and justifiable to compile many of his statements from various years as a kind of `diary'. For it would be hard to name another artist who was so closely, linked to life, who drew so much from its fullness and impulses, while enriching it,- influencing it and repaying it a hundredfold with his music.

L. Grigoryev
Ta. Platek

9 __NUMERIC_LVL1__ 1926 __ALPHA_LVL1__ It was in 1926, with his student days behind him, that the twenty-year-old Dmitry Shostakovich began his independent adult life.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

Shostakovich's performance at the First International Chopin Competition (28-30 January 1927) brought him a diploma of merit (Lev Oborin was outright winner, Grigory Ginzburg won fourth prize, and Yuri Bryushkov a diploma of merit). After the competition Shostakovich gave concerts in several Polish cities, played his Sonata at the Warsaw Conservatoire, and then went with Oborin to Berlin, where he played some of his own works and met the conductor Bruno Walter.

On his return home, fie gave many concerts. On 11 March he took part in an evening given by Professor Nikolayev's pupils in the Philharmonia, and again a week later in the Moscow Conservatoire. Shostakovich also frequently appeared with chamber ensembles, playing, e.g., Schumann's Piano Quintet and Stravinsky's Les Noces, and accompanying the singer Lidia Vyrlan.

The musician's main interest was still composition, however. Shortly after returning from abroad, he composed Aphorisms, a piano cycle. In the spring he was commissioned to write a symphonic work to mark the tenth anniversary of the October Revolution. The composer used poetry by Alexander Bezymensky as the basis for this, his second symphony. The Dedication to October, as it was called, was completed by the summer, after which the composer began work on the libretto, and then the music, for his opera The Nose.

It was in this year that the young composer met Sergei Prokofiev for the first time, during the latter's visit to Leningrad in February. Later, Prokofiev noted in his Autobiography: 'Theyoung Leningrad composers showed me their works. The most interesting of them were Shostakovich's sonata and Gavriil Popov's septet? * X^ The 27 October saw the start of rehearsals of the Second Symphony., which won the highest award in the Leningrad Philharmonia's competition for the best sym\.phonic work to mark the tenth anniversary of the Revolution. The work was first performed on the eve of the anniversary in the Grand Hall of the Philharmonia, conducted by Nikolai Malko, and on 4 December it was conducted by Konstantin Saradzhew in the Columned Hall of the Moscow's Trade Union House. On 22 November Shostakovich's First Symphony was heard for the first time abroad-in Berlin, conducted by Bruno Walter,

__b_b_b__

Until I began to learn to play the piano I expressed no desire to learn, although I did feel a certain interest in music. Sometimes when a quartet was playing next door I would listen with my ear to the wall.

Seeing this, my mother, Sophia Shostakovich, insisted on my taking piano lessons. I put up every kind of opposition. In the spring of 1915 I went to the theatre for the first time, to see The Tale of the Tsar Saltan. I enjoyed the opera, but this still did not overcome my reluctance to study music.

12 __RUNNING_HEADER__ 1927

My cinema work completely paralysed my musical pursuits. It was only once I had left the cinemas for good that I could start composing again. At the beginning of 1925 my Three Fantastic Dances, two pieces for string octet and Symphony were accepted for publication. The Symphony was first performed on 12 May, 1926 by the Leningrad Philhar-, monia under Nikolai Malko. In the autumn of 1925 I was accepted for post-graduate work at the Leningrad Conservatoire.

In January 1927 I travelled as a member of the Soviet delegation to the Chopin Competition in Warsaw. I was also in Berlin. It was an unsuccessful trip, as I fell ill with appendicitis on the first day in Warsaw, and the pains were with me right through till the operation, which was carried out only at the end of April in Leningrad.

Towards the end of 1926 I had written a Piano Sonata, and when I returned from abroad I composed a piano suite - Aphorisms, At the end of March I was commissioned by the Music Section of the State Publishers to write a symphonic composition to commemorate, the tenth anniversary of the October Revolution. I composed a Symphonic Dedication to October, my Second Symphony.^^1^^

__*__

Gnesin: A Symphonic Monument
Shostakovich: Symphonic Dedication to October
Deshevov: Suite from the ballet Red Tornado

My work will be sung by the State Academic Choir.^^2^^

__*__

Yesterday and the day before (5th and 6th) my Symphonic Dedication t October was performed at the Philharmonia. Let me describe it to you ii detail. There were only six rehearsals. The first was a preliminary one and I was not even informed, but I attended all the others and gave Malko instructions. I didn't think I need mention the sound: everyone liked it, especially the beginning and middle section. It turned out very well. The choir harmonised excellently. By the way, there is a short interlude in the choir part after the words '...the name of our fate was `` struggle''^^1^^. The strings categorically refused to play pizzicato. I would stake my life on the fact that that pizzicato is playable, but when a young composer writes something difficult the players always say it is impossible. I had to give way, and agreed. to let them play it area. It turned out fine. But I still hope that someday the passage will be played properly. In his Requiem, Mozart wrote a trombone solo which no trombonist at the time could play. So they replaced it by a bassoon. Nowadays the trombone copes with the solo perfectly.

Both concerts were preceded by meetings. On the 5th the meeting began at 9 o'clock and finished at 11. My Symphony was not played until 11.45, by which time the orchestra-and the audience-were exhausted by having to wait so long. Despite all that, everything went splendidly. The choir, the orchestra and the conductor all rose to the occasion. The success was quite considerable. I was called onto the stage four times, and even then they went on clapping, but I did not go up again. I was hoping that it would go even better on the 6th, but it turned out differently. After six rehearsals and two concerts the orchestra was dead beat. That evening the meeting started at 7 and finished at 9. They started playing my piece at 10,15. It came off considerably worse this time-one could feel the exhaustion of the performers, who put less into it than on the 5th. The audience, too, was tired after the meeting. It was fairly successful, but less so than on the 5th, I took two bows..^^3^^

15 __NUMERIC_LVL1__ 1928 __ALPHA_LVL1__ http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

Right at the beginning of the year (8 January) Shostakovich accepted Vsevolod Meyerhold's offer of the post of musical director and pianist at his theatre in Moscow.

As Dmitry Shostakovich, completed his post-graduate course at the Leningrad Conservatoire, his creative work became even more intensive, with the main stress failing on his music for the theatre and cinema. = Although the composer had turned down a permanent post at the Meyerhold theatre, he did not lose touch with it. That winter, on Meyerhold's suggestion, he wrote music for a production of Vladimir Mayakovsky's play The Bed-Bug (the premiere was on 13 February). The composer met Mayakovsky himself, who appeared to be satisfied with the music for the play.

At about the same time, Shostakovich was beginning to take an active interest in the Leningrad Young Workers Theatre, through which he tried to contribute to the rejuvenation of the traditional theatrical style. This aim was realised in several works, the first of which was the music for Bezymensky's The Shot, successfully premiered on 14 December. In this connection, the magazine Zhizn Iskusstva published an article written jointly by Shostakovich and others involved in the show, in which they set forth the new principles and devices employed in the production.

On 20 February Shostakovich finished the music to accompany Kozintsev and Trauberg's film New Babylon, and a month later the film was released. The directors and composer did not entirely succeed in their original plan, however: the cinema orchestras could not cope with such a difficult score. The music was therefore played in its entirety only in one cinema, where the orchestra was conducted by F. Krish. Shostakovich's interest in the problems of cinema music can also be seen in his address to a conference on the work of the cinema, published in the journal Sovetsky Ekran.

In the spring the composer wrote two additional numbers for the Maly Opera House''s production of Erwin Dressel's Columbus (entr'acte and finale). On 16 June the premiere of the opera The Nose - at first in a concert version - took place on the same stage.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

In the second half of the year Shostakovich devoid himself enthusiastically to two important new compositions. He wrote his Third May Day Symphony, using poetry by Semyon Kirsanov, and began a ballet, The Golden Age, commissioned by the State Theatre Board (based on a libretto by the film producer A. Ivanovsky, originally called Dynamiad).

Also in 1929, Shostakovich*s fame was spread further when Nikolai Malko included two of his works-the First Symphony and the suite from The Nose-wi the programme of a concert tour of South America.

__b_b_b__

...It is time to take cinema music properly in hand, to get rid of sloppy, unartistic vamping, and thoroughly clean up the Augean stables there...

...The only real solution is to write special music for each film, as is being done for more or less the first time, if I am not mistaken-with New Babylon...

...When composing the music for New Babylon I aimed not to illustrate every individual episode, but to suit the music to the main episode in any sequence.

A similar principle was followed in Part Seven, where a soldier comes into a restaurant in which members of the bourgeoisie are making merry after the defeat of the Commune. Here the music, despite the merriment in the restaurant, is determined by the tragic emotions of the soldier, looking for his loved one who has been sentenced to death.

The principle of contrast is widely used. For example, the soldier (a Royalist) who encounters his beloved (a Communard) on the barricades falls into deep despair. But the music becomes more and more triumphant, finally turning into an exhilarating, almost bawdy waltz, reflecting the victory of the Royalists over the Communards.

An interesting device is used at the start of Part Four, which shows an operetta being rehearsed. The music plays Hanon's exercises, which take on different nuances depending on the action: sometimes they sound jolly, sometimes languid, sometimes menacing.

Based on a wide variety of musical sources, the music maintains an unbroken symphonic tone throughout. Its basic function is to suit the tempo and rhythm of the picture and make the impressions it produces more lasting.

Bearing in mind its novelty and unusualness (especially for cinema music hitherto), I tried to make the music dynamic and convey the passions of the film.'

__*__

The 'external technique' of the Young Workers Theatre actor is not limited to movement and words. He also has to learn to play musical instruments. Significantly, in The Shot, the appearance of the `bosses' is marked by a deafening march played by a brass band, whose instruments are played by the actors. Similarly, the appearance on stage of the three secretaries requires the actors to play balalaikas. Finally, in the scene of the meeting, members of the orchestra go up on stage and are used as actors. The transformation of musician into actor and of actor into musician signifies the increasing musical saturation of drama.^^2^^

24 __NUMERIC_LVL1__ 1930 __ALPHA_LVL1__ This year was marked by the first performances of several of Shostakovich's important works, including The Nose and the Third Symphony.

As in all his younger years, in 1931 Shostakovich was working concurrently on several compositions. = In March he signed a contract with the Nemirovich-Danchenko Theatre in Moscow and started work on the opera Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk. The first act of the opera was completed on 5 November.

Meanwhile, work was finished on his ballet Bolt, which was premiered on 8 April in the Academic Theatre of Opera and Ballet under the direction of Fyodor Lopukhov (conductor Alexander Gauk). The ballet did not prove to be popular, however, and performances were discontinued in the middle of June.

Early May saw the premiere---by the Young Workers Theatre in Leningrad---of Piotrovskf s play Rule Britannia!, for which Shostakovich composed the music. The composer tried his hand at yet another genre: he wrote the full score (35 numbers) for a production of Condition ally Murdered, a play by Vsevolod Voyevodin and Yevgeny Ryss, at the Leningrad Music Hall. The premiere took place on 20 October, conducted by Isaak Dunayevsky: the cast included the famous musichall actors Leonid Utyosbv, Klavdia Shulzhenko and Vitaly Koralli.

Continuing his work with Grigory Ko&nlsev and Leonid Trauberg, Shostakovich wrote music to accompany the'film Alone, which was released on 10 October. On 6 November---the eve of the anniversary of the Revolution---another film, Golden Mountains, was premiered in Moscow. This was the first Soviet sound film, and marked the start of a long collaboration between the composer and Sergei Tutkevich, a hading film director.

In the summer, during a visit to Leningrad, the conductor Leopold Stokowski, a great populariser of Shostakovich's music, met the composer, who presented him with the score of his Third Symphony. Meanwhile, Arturo Toscanini had included the composer''s First Symphony in his repertoire. Soon Shostakovich was visited by an American journalist, Rose Lee, a correspondent o/~The New York Times. On 20 December, her interview with Shostakovich (the first by a foreign journalist) and a detailed article about the composer and his music appeared in that paper. Shostakovich ended his conversation with the journali^with a reference to his interest in folk music as an important means of injecting new life into the language of music.

The composer spent the autumn months of September and October in the Caucasus---in the towns of Gudauti, Batumi and Tbilisi---where he had time to relax and work on Lady Macbeth. He returned home towards the end of the year.

__b_b_b__

During my two months holiday I thought a good deal about my work as a composer.

31 __RUNNING_HEADER__ 1931

During this time I have also written two ballets (The Golden Age and Bolt), and the May Day Symphony.

Out of all these works, the only one which, to my mind, can lay claim to a place in the history of Soviet music is the May Day Symphony, despite all its imperfections. In saying this I do not wish to imply that all the other works mentioned above are worthless, but simply tha^t, being written for the theatre, they should not be considered as independentworks.

Experience has shown that an opera or ballet should be complete before it is ever brought to the theatre. The theatre should then accept it (or reject it) in its entirety, and stage the work in its ready-made form. This was done with my opera The Nose and the result, thanks to the theatre's first-rate performers, was an excellent production. Afinogenov and Kirshon also produced fine examples of proletarian drama without the `help' of the theatre!

Let music play the leading role in the musical theatre! l

__*__

There can be no music without ideology... The old composers, whether they knew it or not, were upholding a political theory. Most of them, of course, were bolstering the rule of the upper classes. Only Beethoven was a forerunner of the revolutionary movement. If you will read his letters you will see how often he wrote his friends that he wished to give new ideas to the public and rouse it to revolt against its masters.

On the other hand, Wagner's biographies show that he began his career as a radical and ended as a reactionary. His monarchistic patriotism had a bad effect on his mind.

We, as revolutionists, have a different conception of music. Lenin himself said that music was a means of unifying broad masses of people. It is not a leader of the masses, perhaps, but certainly an organising force... Even the symphonic form, which appears more than any other to be divorced from literary elements, can be said to have a bearing on politics.

Music is no longer an end in itself, but a vital weapon in the struggle. Because of this, Soviet music will probably develop along different lines from any the world has ever known.

__*__

I consider that every artist who isolates himself from the world is doomed. I find it incredible that an artist should want to shut himself away from the people, who, in the end, form his audience. I think an artist should serve the greatest possible number of people. I always try to make myself as widely understood as possible, and if I don't succeed, I consider it my own fault.^^2^^

32 __NUMERIC_LVL1__ 1932 __ALPHA_LVL1__ Shostakovich considered the resolution issued by the Party Central Committee on 23 April 'On the Restructuring of Literary and Artistic Organisations' an important landmark in the histoiy of Soviet art, an important step towards consolidating the country's artistic forces in the name of creating a new, socialist art.

Preparations for the staging of "Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk were underway in two theatres - the Nemirovich-Danchenko Theatre in Moscow and the Maly Opera House in Leningrad. = Shostakovich took an active part in the work of both. The stage rehearsals, however, did not start till the second half of the year, and so the composer had plenty of time to devote himself to his creative work and to give concerts.

In January the Leningrad Philharmonic Orchestra premiered the musical suite from the ballet Bolt. Meanwhile, the news came from Chicago that Shostakovich's Third Symphony had had its first performance in America, conducted by Frederick Stock.

A concert devoted entirely to Shostakovich's works, which took place in Moscow in April, was described by the newspaper Sovetskoye Iskusstvo as 'the greatest event of the musical season'. The programme included the First Symphony, the suite from the ballet Bolt (played in Moscow for the first time), and works for the piano. The press published rapturous reviews, but there were also criticisms; several reviewers reproached Shostakovich for lapsing into bad taste and frivolity, citing as an example his music for the ballet The Golden Age.

On 24 May, in the Small Hall of the Moscow Conservatoire, Shostakovich gave the first performance of his newly completed cycle of Twenty-Four Piano Preludes. (Soon, they were also played by Lev Oborin and Heinrich Neuhaus). He performed this work again in Baku in June. On 15 and 17 October his First Concerto for Piano, Trumpet and Orchestra was premiered at the Leningrad Philharmonia, conducted by Fritz Stiedry. The soloists were the composer, and the trumpeter A. Schmidt. The concert was performed again in Voronezh on 20 December.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

By now, the rehearsals of Lady Macbeth were in full swing. In Leningrad they were directed by Nikolai Smolich, and in Moscow by Vladimir NemirovichDanchenko, who staged the first full dress rehearsal, in the presence of the composer, on 1 December. On 11 November, Shostakovich attended a concert of Polish music in the Grand Hall of the Moscow Conservatoire, and wrote about his impressions of the concert in the newspaper Sovetskoye Iskusstvo.

A sign of Shostakovich's standing as a public figure was his election in 1933 to\\ a District Soviet in Leningrad. This was the first of many posts to which Shostako-' ' vich was elected.

__b_b_b__

We must resolutely oppose the revengeful mood of those musicians who, after the publication of the Resolution of 23 April, on meeting each other embraced joyfully, and proclaimed - like the inhabitants of Sillyville learning that there had been a change in Mayor-Wow we'll show them!..,' Theirs is a vulgar conception. The class struggle is still taking place in our country, and still taking place in music, because music naturally reflects everything that is going on in the country... While giving the leftists a forceful rebuff, however, we must never forget the danger threatening us from the right.^^1^^

36 __RUNNING_HEADER__ 1933

The twelve months since 23 April, 1932 have been marked by the consolidation of the country's creative forces, and a steady rise in creativity. Two outstanding works are nearing completion: namely, the symphonies of Popov and Shaporin. Shcherbachev and Deshevov are both working hard. The first movement of Shebalin's grand new symphony entitled Lenin is completed. The list of achievements could be continued, but it would take up too much space, and is not my main intention here. What I would like to do is express some hopes for the future.

The Union of Soviet Composers should, of course, lead and guide all creative activity. This is a serious and responsible task. It has already achieved much in the sphere of consolidating creative forces, but as yet the Union's work remains largely abstract.

I once heard the following `aphorism' (I no longer remember who said it, or whether I read it somewhere): 'Critics are those people who, either through lack of talent or for some other reason, have not succeeded in joining the ranks of those who are criticised.'

One is involuntarily reminded of this unfortunate `aphorism' on reading through the musical sections of newspapers such as Rabochy i Teatr or Vechernyqya Krasnaya Gazeta. When a critic writes that in some symphony or other the Soviet office-workers are represented by the oboe and clarinet, and the Red Army men by the brass instruments, one feels like crying out 'It's just not true!'

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

I should like to conclude with a few words about myself. I am on the crest of a creative wave at the moment. I have finished my opera Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk and writen Twenty-Four Piano Preludes. Just now I am writing a piano concerto and music for a cartoon film The Tale of the Priest and His Helper, Dolt, based on Pushkin.^^2^^

__*__

All the librettos I was offered were extremely schematic. Their stereotyped heroes aroused neither love nor hate in me. Several times I approached highly qualified workers, all of whom refused-for various reasons-such `trifling' work as writing a libretto for an opera. Nikolai Aseyev did at least write a libretto for a comic opera for me, but it was not really to my taste. Our best writers have a rather casual attitude to the musical theatre.

Given the specific nature of opera, the characterisation of the heroes must be clear and strong. It is impossible to write an opera about the five-year plan 'in general', or about socialist construction 'in general'; one must write about living people, about the builders of socialism. Our librettists have not grasped this yet. Their heroes are anaemic and impotent, and evoke neither sympathy nor hatred. They are too mechanical. This is why I turned to the classics (Gogol, Leskov). Their characters have the power to make us laugh and to make us weep,

I appealed to our leading writers to help us composers in the creation of a new Soviet operatic art. Several of them did: for example Osip Brik wrote excellent librettos for the opera The Kamarinsky Peasant and the 37 ballet The Gypsies. Very few, however, have followed Erik's example. Soviet opera will never be successful unless the specific nature of the musical theatre is taken into account. Composers ought to know the literary skills, and librettists should be musically `literate'.

The libretto for my future opera must satisfy the following requirements :

The libretto must reflect the heroism and inspiration of the remarkable life of the Soviet people.

The libretto should take into account the specific nature of the musical theatre. An opera is sung, not spoken, and consequently the text should be singable, and afford the composer every opportunity to create free, flowing melodies.

The libretto should excite the spectator by its tragic or comic situation, its captivating plot, and its swiftly unfolding action.

The libretto should take into account the psychology of the spectator, and must not include a large number of intervals between acts. It must be remembered that in an opera the music, not only the action, attracts much of the spectator's attention.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

The composer should be able to introduce arias, duets, quartets and choral singing into the opera, and this should be to be done quite naturally, so as not to produce a ludicrous effect.

While adopting the best aspects of our classical heritage, they should be critically reworked, and not just blindly followed.

Our age demands and deserves new, wonderful art forms.

What is needed is more daring, boldness, and lively experiment!

What subjects do I want for my librettos?

I find it difficult to answer this question, but undoubtedly I want a libretto which reflects the great struggle of the victorious class, building socialism in our country.^^3^^

__b_b_b__

I first became acquainted with the music of Karol Szymanowski a long time ago. He is a ver\ distinctive composer, with an excellent command of the orchestra's full potential. His miniatures are much more successful than his large-scale works, and in- general lyricism, reverie and contemplation are more suited to his talent than action, heroics and `big' themes.

Tadeusz Kassern's Concerto was, in my opinion, the least successful item in the concert. The composer has clearly not yet found his own musical language. His music is unexpressive, though technically fine.

Roman Palester's Polish Dance is just a charming bagatelle.

The concert was conducted in spirited fashion by the talented Grzegorz Fitelberg.

Whatever my impressions of the individual works may have been, for me the most important and most enjoyable aspect of the concert was that it acquainted us with the distinctive and interesting music of our Polish neighbours,*

38

Nikolai Leskov portrays the heroine of his story Lady Macbeth of MtsensK as a demonic figure. He justifies her neither on moral nor on psychological grounds. My own concept of Katerina Izmailova is as a vigorous, talented, beautiful woman, who perishes in her dark, cruel family milieu in serf-owning Russia. In Leskov's story she is a murderess, responsible for the deaths of her husband, her father-in-law, and her husband's young nephew. The last of these murders appears particularly wicked and unjustified, motivated as it is by pure self-interest, by the desire to do away with the main claimant upon her husband's legacy.

Katerina's father-in-law, Boris Izmailov, is a typical stolid merchant of feudal Russia. He is an imperious despot, who takes great pleasure in wielding his power over all around him. His character is dominated by his inhuman cruelty (his part, written for a baritone, is lacking in lyricism). The music conveys his changes of mood without modulation; profound psychological changes are not part of his nature.

Katerina's husband, Zinovy, is a weak-willed, pitiful creature, who live"s in mortal fear of his father. Not possessing the strength of character to resist his father's despotic power, he tries to imitate him in everything he does, and has adopted a tyrannical attitude towards Katerina and all those below him. His part is written for a high tenor. To reveal his character I used the technique of 'exposure through music'. Thus, at the end of Act Two, in the scene in Katerina's bedroom before the entrance of Zinovy, who is now convinced of his wife's infidelity, the music is solemn, with fanfares, leading the spectator to expect a stormy, tragic scene. In fact, however, Zinovy appears as an indecisive, petty, slow-witted coward.

•'•*

Her love for the bailiff Sergei is the only ray of happiness in Katerina's dismal life. But Sergei himself is not a positive character: he is portrayed as a suave, sugary nonentity. He is a self-interested person, whose affair with a beautiful woman flatters him no less than his liaison with the mistress of the house. For the more romantic episodes, in which Sergei is the main character-his declaration of love to Katerina, etc.-1 used exaggerated musical devices, emphasising his sugariness and suavity. His part is sung by a tenor.

In Act Four, where Sergei behaves in a cruel, disgusting manner, I used vulgar, frivolous music to portray him.

I treat Katerina Izmailova as a complex, earnest, tragic character. She is an affectionate, sensuous woman, devoid of sentimentality. To outline her character and her moods, therefore, I have used deeply lyrical music. In the scene in Act Four, when Katerina is stripped of her illusions about Sergei, who so lightly and coarsely casts her aside for Sonetka, the music is dramatic, free from tearfulness and cheap sentiment.

The beginning of Act Four shows a convoy of prisoners heading for Siberia. The scene begins with a tragic prisoners' song, evoking a grim picture of tsarist Russia. The same chorus appears at the end of Act Four. It is consistent in style and character with convict songs of that period.

As composer, I am extremely satisfied with the Nemirovich-Danchenko Theatre's work on my opera. The collective recognises the leading role of the composer. Both the director Mordvinov and the artist Dmitriev base their work, above all else, on the musical content of the opera. There is not the slightest hint of unnecessary pomposity in the artistic design, which so often goes against the musical style of an opera. Much of the work on this production has been done by the theatre's artistic director himself, Vladimir Nemirovich-Danchenko.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

__b_b_b__

... At both of the concerts I gave recently in Moscow I played a work which I wrote between March and July 1932, my -Concerto for Piano, String Orchestra and Trumpet, This was my first attempt at filling an important gap in Soviet instrumental music, which lacks full-scale concerto-type works.

What is the basic artistic theme of this concerto? I do not consider it necessary to follow the example of many composers, who try to explain the content of their works by means of extraneous definitions borrowed from related fields of art. I cannot describe the content of my concerto by any means other than those I used to write the concerto...

I am a Soviet composer. Our age, as I perceive it, is heroic, spirited and joyful. This is what I wanted to convey in my concerto. It is for the audience, and possibly the music critics, to judge whether or not I succeded.^^5^^

44 __NUMERIC_LVL1__ 1934 __ALPHA_LVL1__ The two premieres of Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk took place in quick succession: on 22 January in the Maly Opera House (conductor Samuil Samosud), and on 24 January in the Nemirovich-Danchenko Musical Theatre (conductor Grigory Stolyarov).

The most important work composed this year was The Limpid Stream, Shostakovich's third and final ballet. = The composer did not consider his first ballets successful and, as can be seen from his comments reprinted here, pinned considerable hopes on this, his third, treating it as a very serious matter. His hopes would appear to have been borne out.

On 4 April The Limpid Stream had a successful premiere at the Maly Opera House; Fyodor Lopukhov produced the performance, Pavel Feldt conducted. The audience included the venerable conductor Yuri Faier, who was preparing for the ballet's Moscow premiere at the Bolshoi Theatre. This production was also a success; the cast for the first two performances in the capital (30 November and 3 December) included such well-known dancers as Asaf and Sulamif Messerer, Olga Lepeshinskaya, Petr Gusev, Alexei Yermolayev, ^inaida Vasilieva, Vladimir Ryabtsev and the young Igor Moiseyev. After the ballet, on 26 December, the Bolshoi Theatre also put on the opera Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk, conducted by Alexander Melik-Pashayev.

Two more films with music by Shostakovich were released: early in the year Maxim's Youth, produced by Kozintsev and Trauberg, and in March Gendelstein's Love and Hate. The end of March saw the first performance of his Suite for Jazz Orchestra.

It was a year of much public activity for Shostakovich. On 4-6 February he look part in a wide-ranging discussion on Soviet symphony music, organised by the Composers'" Union. The main report was made by Alexander Ostretsov, and other speakers included Konstantin Kuznetsov, Vissarion Shebalin, Ivan Sollertinsky, Viktor Bely and Dmitry Kabalevsky. (Part of Shostakovich's speech is included here). On 25 March the Moscow Club of Arts Masters held a large function devoted to Shostakovich, at which the composer spoke about his career. In general, his speeches and articles of this year suggest it was a year of stock-taking, in which he made a deep and self-critical analysis of the last ten years and mapped out the way forward. He did not try to hide his principles and convictions - either from himself or from his audience.

Meanwhile Shostakovich's music was winning more and more admirers abroad, and in this sense too, 1935 was a significant year. In January Toscanini conducted extracts from Lady Macbeth in Mew York, on the 31st of that month the opera was premiered, under Rodzinski, in Cleveland, and a week later repeated at the Metropolitan Opera. On 5 April a troupe formed specially for the occasion, with Alexander Smallens as conductor, performed the opera in Philadelphia. In May the BBC in London broadcast the excerpts from Lady Macbeth conducted by Albert Coates, an old friend of Russian music. On 14 November, with rehearsals also underway in Buenos Aires and ^urich, another premiere of the opera took place in Bratislava. The work evoked a great response in the foreign, especially American, press. But it would be wrong to think that the public and the critics were unanimous in their appraisals. According to Shostakovich's first foreign biographer, Victor Serof: the '... production drew more comment than had any music to come out of Soviet Russia so far.'

Towards the end of the year Shostakovich set to work on his Fourth Symphony.

__b_b_b__ 52 __CAPTION__ Shostakovich at the time
The Limpid Stream was
composed

53 __RUNNING_HEADER__ 1935

It will soon be a year since the first production of my opera Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk. That production was a great lesson for me.-

I feel that as far as my works for the stage are concerned, Lady Macbeth represents a step forward. Recalling my failures in this area (the ballets The Golden Age and Bolt], I began to look for the reasons for these failures and for the success of Lady Macbeth, and established that the essential element in the opera is the attempt to penetrate as deeply as possible into the content of the given material.

It was the fact that I broke through the surface and got to the heart of the age and of the tragic course of events in the plot that determined the opera's success. How did this come about? Above all because I tried to make the musical language of the work as persuasive as possible.

Since the opera I have written 24 piano preludes, a piano concerto, a sonata for cello and piano, and music for the cartoon film The Tale of the Priest and His Helper, Dolt, based on Pushkin. As regards 'purity of language', I think the cello sonata has achieved most.

It is imperative that a line be drawn between simplicity and oversimplification, which, let us face it, are sometimes confused. Musical language acquires clarity and expressiveness not only as a result of harmonious sound combinations, but above all when the composer has a clear and profound conception of the ideas and emotions he wishes to convey.

I have many plans at present. A symphony is taking shape. I am planning an operatic tetralogy on the situation of women, of which Lady Macbeth will be the first part. I hope that with the help of the public and especially the Leningrad Composers' Union I shall be able to concentrate on these two main tasks---the second opera in the tetralogy and the Fourth Symphony.

I am now completing a new ballet, Whims. I have not finally decided on this name---it may end up being called Two Sylphs or Kuban. The ballet is already being rehearsed at the Maly Opera House.

I am very satisfied with the libretto for the work. The action takes place in the Kuban area and involves collective farmers and performers who have come to the farm to provide entertainment. The ballet is basically a comedy. I would call it a choreographic comedy-a genre with which Lopukhov, the author of the libretto and choreographer, copes magnificently.

My chief aims in writing this new ballet were vigorousness, colourfulness and lightness. The music contains many lyrical and many comic elements.

I remember hearing musicians who had just listened to Lady Macbeth saying something to the effect that-here, at last, Shostakovich had 54 achieved depth and humanity. When I asked where exactly this humanity lay, most of them replied that for the first time I had taken an earnest look at serious, tragic events. I would not say, however, that my attempt at comedy lacks humanity, I consider laughter just as essential in music as lyricism, tragedy, inspiration and other `elevated' qualities. May I then be spared the anger and accusations of inhumanity of those who find much that is jolly, humorous and funny in my new ballet or in my dances for jazz orchestra.^^1^^

__*__

__*__

Here in the Soviet Union every qualified worker-be he a producer, a writer, an engineer, a composer or whatever-enjoys the patronage of the Party and government... Soviet composers have every opportunity for great work. Was there ever another time or another place where a composer could peacefully write a sonata or a quartet, in the knowledge that he was financially secure. This is a result of the construction of socialism in our country, a result of our Party's policies.^^3^^

__*__

As a composer I know that musical creation is a complicated, difficult and sometimes painstaking task, demanding intense thought-including, perhaps, thoughts on how to avoid appearing an eclectic or an epigone, though I do not imagine that this is ever uppermost in the composer's mind as he works.

We Soviet people live a highly emotional life. Therefore Soviet composers should pay special attention to the creation not only of the usual kind of symphonies (the most cumbrous kind), but also of symphonies of a lyrical character. How fine it would be to write such a symphony! True, it is a difficult task, but not necessarily unrealisable.

At first I agreed that I was guilty of frivolity when I used bawdy, or let us say, popular motifs. Perhaps I did not act entirely rightly in this respect, but my intention was good: I wanted to write good entertaining music which might give pleasure even to a qualified listener, or even make him laugh. And if, during the performance of my works, the audience laughs, or even smiles, then this gives me pleasure.^^4^^

__*__

I am about to write my Fourth Symphony, which will be a kind of summing-up of my musical credo.

What are the main tasks which I set myself at present? To answer this question properly it will be necessary to look back at what has gone before.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

As a pupil I imagined music as a series of sound combinations, whose `euphony' determined the quality of a work. Only later did I understand the simple truth that music is the most powerful form of art, capable of conveying the most diverse emotions. It was then that my struggle for a credo began. This struggle is continuing, and I think it unlikely that it will end soon.

I once came under much fire from the critics, mainly on account of formalism. I reject these reproaches entirely. I have never been, and will never be, a formalist. To brand any work as formalistic on the grounds that its language is complex and perhaps not immediately comprehensible, is unacceptably frivolous.

Now my main goal is to find my own simple and expressive musical language. Sometimes the aspiration for a simple language is understood rather superficially. Often `simplicity' merges into epigonism. But to speak simply does not mean to speak as people did 50 or 100 years ago. This is a trap into which many modern composers fall, afraid of being accused of formalism. Both formalism and epigonism are harmful to Soviet music. Only if he steers clear of these dangerous rocks will the Soviet composer become a true bard of our great age.^^5^^

__*__

The creation of a large ballet on a Soviet theme is a difficult and responsible matter. But I am not afraid of the difficulties. To take a wellworn path is perhaps easier and `safer', but also boring, uninteresting and pointless.

__b_b_b__

...A group of Soviet performers visits the Kuban, where they meet local collective farmers for the first time. The collective farmers, seeing the performers as people from some unfamiliar world, are unsure of how to approach them. The performers, too, cannot immediately find a common language with the farmers.

59

Very soon, however, both sides find they have much in common. All of them are building a socialist way of life: the farmers in agriculture, the performers in the sphere of art. The teams of collective farmers and actors are brought even closer together by romances which blossom in the beautiful Kuban countryside.

The libretto, with this uncomplicated plot, was cleverly worked out by that expert in the field of theatre and ballet, Andrian Piotrovsky. Add to this the choreography of Fyodor Lopukhov and scenery designed by Mikhail Bobyshov, and we have the makings of a lively and colourful spectacle.

__*__

I am deeply opposed to attempts to replace real ballet by a kind of dramatised pantomime. In Leningrad a few years ago, I once had occasion to see a show staged by the talented choreographer Yakobson (he now works in Moscow), who at that time denied the primacy of dance in ballet and reduced ballet to mere pantomime. I must admit that I found the result unconvincing.

Frankly speaking, every time I see so-called 'pure pantomine', I cannot get rid of the feeling that I am witnessing a conversation of deaf-mutes. There is something insurmountably unnatural in this kind of `realism'. Just as you cannot have an opera without singing (by definition), so you cannot discard dance from ballet. This conventional definition should not be fought against but justified.

I feel that the Leningrad Maly Opera House is on the right track in the search for new principles for Soviet ballet. Without running against the `conventionality' of dance, while retaining, indeed, the classical system of dance movements, the Maly is exploring certain specific devices in an attempt to find a realistic style of ballet.

Whims (as it provisionally titled) is my third ballet on a Soviet theme. The first two- The Golden Age and Bolt-l consider very unsuccessful from a dramatic point of view. It seems to me that the main mistake was that the librettists, in striving to depict our way of life in the ballet, completely failed to take into account the peculiarities of the art form. The portrayal of socialist reality in ballet is a very serious task; it must not be approached superficially. And such episodes as, say, the 'Dance of Enthusiasm' or the mime representation of the work process (hammering on an anvil) betray an ill-thought-out approach to the problem of producing a realistic ballet on a Soviet theme.

I cannot guarantee, of course, that this third attempt may not also turn out to be a failure, but even if this is so, I shall not be deterred fr6m writing yet another Soviet ballet.

60

I now intend to turn to a major work-my Fourth Symphony. Recently, as a result of my work on the ballet and on film music, I feel I have dropped behind in the sphere of symphony music-the most difficult and most important form of composition.

The recently run All-Union Performers Competition turned out to be a silent reproach to us, Soviet composers. Our duty towards Soviet performers is enormous. What concert music have we provided them with? Virtually none, or at any rate very, very little.

There is a complete dearth of Soviet music for virtuosos, music which would give the performer the maximum opportunity, using material full of new ideas, to show his technical brilliance. Franz Liszt with his rhapsodies is so far unsurpassed in this field. To better him, I do not deny, is a hard task, but it is an honourable one which must finally be taken up.

The competition shook up my plans considerably. I shall certainly now set about writing pieces to fill out the repertoire of our performers-first and foremost pieces for wind instruments. Their existing repertoires are meagre and uninteresting, for the classics, too, tended to neglect these `plebeians' of the orchestra.

There is little need to dwell on the undeniable right of the 'brass and wood family' to a place on the concert stage. I think this is certainly something for Soviet composers to chew over.^^7^^

__*__

I appeal to my fellow-composers to give much more serious thought to musical language and expressiveness. In particular, we have barely touched upon the question of simplicity and purity of musical language, a question which has been widely dealt with in literature. This is a farreaching problem. I think that if composers take a long, hard look at these questions, they will be rewarded with great success and a work will be composed, of which we shall be able to say: this is a Soviet symphony, it could have come about only here, in the Soviet Union.

In general, we should think again .about what we call `leading' works and `leading' composers. We tend, especially in Leningrad and Moscow, to use this term very wrongly, when, we call such-and-such a composer `leading'; what, then, are the others?-presumably `led', but by whom? how? We are clearly beginning to misuse the term.

I know that there are many talented composers in the Soviet Union, but it would be difficult to point to any one of them and say: yes, he is 61 our leading composer, we can take our cue from his work, as Soviet literature takes its cue from the works of that giant of literature, Maxim Gorky. Soviet music has no such composer.^^8^^

__*__

...In a village near Izmir I heard folk singers, and in Ankara I attended a concert of national songs and dances. I also heard recordings of these songs. The Ankara Conservatoire delighted me by presenting me with transcriptions of a large number of folk songs. I have not had time to learn them yet, but even a brief glance at the music has kindled my interest in national Turkish songs... I returned from Turkey with a wealth of impressions.^^9^^

__*__

There are no drinking houses, and only idle foreign journalists, sitting over their cocktails in European bars, still talk of opium dens and the other `piquant' establishments of exotic Constantinople. Walking through the streets of Istanbul, I could not throw off the joyful sensation that I was in a modern city, full of the bustling, bubbling rhythm of life. I felt that here they were building their everyday, free lives. Here they hated the past, treated the present seriously, and looked fearlessly into the future.

In Istanbul I met two young Turkish composers, Jemal Rashi and Hasan Ferid, and heard them playing their own piano works. I was not looking for technical brilliance of great virtuosity in their playing---although that was certainly in evidence-but for some new musical colouring, previously unknown to me. And to my great delight, I found the distinctive, original sound I was looking for. Later I met the fifteen-year-old composer Sabahattin in Ankara, and my colleagues and I listened with great interest to him playing his own compositions for piano.

There are still no symphony orchestras - as we understand the word-in Turkey. But the uncommon musicality of the Turks, and their quite amazing ability to master new musical works, undoubtedly guarantee that in the very near future the students' orchestra at the Istanbul Conservatoire and the President's Orchestra in Ankara will grow into highly professional ensembles. At any rate, the success achieved in only a few rehearsals with' these orchestras by our conductor, Lev Steinberg, strongly suggests this possibility.

Before our trip, Turkish music-lovers only knew the classical Russian composers, and now they were able to hear several works by our Soviet masters played at their best. It must be said that these masters found very sensitive and perceptive admirers among the Turkish audience, and 62 several of our composers will be firm favourites in this friendly country from now on,

On the way to Izmir, we visited the excavations going on at the ancient capital of Pergamum. Fifty years ago a German archeological concessionaire openly plundered the site of its treasures and removed them to museums in Germany. Now an end has been put to these excesses, and everything discovered at the site of Pergamum is kept in a local national museum founded specially for the purpose. We visited the ruins of a huge stadium, a magnificent, multi-storey ancient theatre, the remains of bath-houses, and other interesting sights. The contrast between what we saw during this short stopover and what was then revealed to us in the cities and villages, on the highways and mountain passes, was so exciting one could not help making historical comparisons. I was very impressed by Aya Sofiya in Istanbul. But an even greater impression was made by the healthy, vigorous excitement of new building which one could feel on the streets of old Ankara, which is being turned into the capital of a free young state.

Turkish composers with whom I made friends presented me with a large collection of Turkish folk songs, noted down by folklore collectors. Even a first look at these songs has shown me how much unexplored wealth there is in them. The President of the Republic, Mr. Kemal Ataturk, is doing a great deal to bring about a musical reform in Turkey. Instead of the archaic, stagnant old forms of music, suited largely to the tastes of tourist consumers, President Ataturk is encouraging the development of a modern style in Turkish national music; he is putting much effort into the creation of a national opera and the organisation of a system of secondary and higher musical education,I0

__*__

...I had to waste a whole year finding out, with my own reason, sensitivity and meagre knowledge, the primitive truth that music is not just a collection of sounds. I consider it a great failing of the Conservatoire's teaching that it gives too superficial a knowledge of modern music. Apart from a few well-known works by Borodin, Glazunov, Chaikovsky and Beethoven, plus the standard piano repertoire of works by Schumann, Beethoven, Chopin and Liszt, we knew nothing. To fill the gaps in my musical education I visited the music theatres and concerts at the Philharmonia. In this way I acquired and increased my musical knowledge, but unfortunately-and this was extremely important-1 could not systematise it.

63

Things were even worse as regards contemporary music: the Conservatoire ignored it completely, as though it did not exist. It was denounced, without further consideration, as fairground charlatanism, based purely on 'sleight of hand'. The greatest `charlatans', of course, were Stravinsky, Schonberg and Hindemith. As a result, I knew virtually nothing about them, and was stuffed full of orthodox Conservatoire wisdom.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

It was only much later that I came to understand the great importance, talent, originality and artistic taste of the fresh musical current which these `seditious' composers had introduced. Throwing off all the prejudices that had been inculcated in me, I devoted myself with youthful passion to a careful study of these musical innovators. Only then did I realise that they were geniuses---especially Stravinsky, that virtuoso of colour and master of orchestration. Only then did I feel that my hands were untied, that my talent was liberated from routine.''

__*__

Let me return to the question of the Conservatoire. I do not mean to imply that it gave me nothing. Most probably, had I not undergone the course prescribed for every pupil and mastered the subjects taught, with all their cliches, then I should have achieved nothing worthwhile. All the disenchantment and dissatisfaction that I experienced then was doubtless experienced by hundreds of other young people both before and after me. If I possess a certain technique in composing, then it was the Conservatoire that gave me it. As far as orchestration is concerned, I am eternally grateful to Professor Steinberg, who helped me master this difficult art.

__b_b_b__

... I certainly do not believe that he [Stravinsky] should be imitated in 'every respect. But he is very interesting and original in that he has opened up new paths in modern music. This is why I single him out among contemporary West European composers. As for the Western classics, to single out any one of them is far more difficult, for the age of classical music covers a huge period...

Richard Wagner was, of course, a brilliant composer, but by no means an innovator. His ideas led to nothing other than the emergence of ' oratorial' operas. Unlike Verdi, Wagner did not succeed in constructing a musical drama: his operas are static. Although he quite swamps Meyerbeer with the full force of his enormous temperament, yet he is undoubtedly less capable of constructing a musical drama. Wagner's real merit lies in his ridding opera of separate musical numbers and replacing them by a continuous flow of musical thought. In this respect, he influenced the later Verdi, for example in Othello.^^12^^

__*__

About three years ago the composer Dzerzhinsky showed me the beginning of his opera And Quiet Flows the Don. Despite the sketchiness and 64 incompleteness of the material, the great talent of this composer, making his first attempt at opera, was very clear. I realised immediately that what I had heard would grow into a fine work. At the same time, Dzerzhinsky required help and encouragement in writing the opera since, despite his undoubted talent, he suffered from many 'children's diseases*.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

I remember these 'children's diseases'- the most striking of which was a certain lack of experience in orchestration-from his operetta The Green Factory, which ran at the Leningrad Young Workers Theatre. In our opinion, And Quiet Flows the Don promised to become a major event in the history of Soviet music, and Dzerzhinsky had to be introduced immediately to the Leningrad Maly Opera House-a veritable laboratory of Soviet music.

A conductor of great sensitivity, Samuil Samosud realised that And Quiet Flows the Don was an outstanding work. And no effort was spared to help get the opera completed and staged.

With the support of the Maly, Dzerzhinsky finished the opera, and today, as the curtain goes up, we who are present at the birth of the new work, experience a sense of profound joy and pride in the Soviet musical theatre, which has gained another outstanding composition.

Some time ago the Bolshoi Theatre and the newspaper Komsomolskaya Pravda jointly ran a competition for the best opera. The results were as follows:

No first prize was awarded; the second prize was shared by Zhelobinsky's The Name-Day and Gedike's At the Ferry. Third prize went to Polovinkin's Hero and Davidenko and Shekhter's 1905.

Many operas received no award whatsoever-including Dzerzhinsky's And Quiet Flows the Don.

I remembered about this sad misunderstanding with a feeling of pride for the Maly Opera House, which had understood And Quiet Flows the Don better than the jury for the competition, who completely overlooked this remarkable opera.

This season marks the start of the opera's triumphant march through the opera houses of the Soviet Union. The next venue, after the Leningrad Maly, will be the Moscow Bolshoi Theatre: a marvellous way for it to put right the horrible mistake of the judges of the above-mentioned competition.

Today, at the premiere of And Quiet Flows the Don, is not the time to write about the opera's shortcomings. There are, of course, many, but we are confident that Dzerzhinsky's next work will be more mature and profound. Let us not forget that the composer is still very young. Let us also not forget hat he is extremely talented. We congratulate him on his opera, and wish him even greater success in the future.^^13^^

__*__

It is essential, finally, to come to some agreement on what demands we should make on someone who has chosen his career in opera. It has to be admitted that many of our opera singers know too little about the real nature of the art. A young person decides he has a good voice, this is confirmed at an audition, and so-though he may have not the slightest potential as an actor-he goes in for opera. Clearly it is hard to make a good opera actor out of an opera singer like that.

This brings us to the question of how to train opera performers. Where should this training take place-in the conservatoires or in studios at the opera houses themselves? Perhaps this question does not seem so urgent at present, but nonetheless it is vital that we should clearly define the functions of these two organisations. There is a dangerand a very real one-that the opera classes at the conservatoires will, after all, only teach singing, but not the skills of acting. Our conservatoires do have excellent vocalists on their teaching staffs, but no drama producers. Our opera houses, on the other hand, have both good vocalists and experienced producers, so that in my opinion the training of opera performers should be concentrated in their own studios.

Next, we must understand that an experienced opera singer cannot grow up in a musical and cultural backwater, It is nowhere near enough merely to have a good voice or even talent. One must work on oneself, acquire technique, and assimilate the whole `culture' of one's chosen trade - including a knowledge of history, art history, literature, etc. Mozart was Mozart because his natural talent developed under the conditions of a mature, developed musical culture. If he had been born and brought up in Honolulu, he would not have been Mozart. In precisely the same way, the opera singer should feed on the progressive culture of the age.

The importance of the operatic libretto is often played down. But this is a mistake, for it is an extremely complex question. The operatic libretto is by no means the same as a work of literature written by a dramatist, novelist or short-story writer. It has been pointed out that Bizet's Carmen is a far cry from Merimee's story of the same name. There are many similar examples. The operatic libretto is a literary, dramatic text which serves as the basis for operatic music. The person most capable of evaluating a libretto properly, of squeezing out every ounce of its potential, is the opera's producer, who must be both a drama producer and well-grounded in music, especially opera music. But this definition of the opera producer is not the whole story. The history of the theatre includes the names of many brilliant theatre producers and choreographers (e. g. Didlo), but is severely lacking in great opera producers. There must be a good reason for this.

Meyerhold's work in opera is fruitful precisely because, like Stanislavsky and Nemirovich-Danchenko, he has a marvellous feel for the intrinsic musical peculiarities of opera. And yet, even the brilliant Meyerhold's work is not devoid of certain shortcomings. Let us return at this point to the libretto. The basic mistake committed by Meyerhold in his production of The Queen of Spades at the Maly Opera House was that he replaced Modest Chaikovsky's libretto by Pushkin's literary text. But Pushkin's story is not an operatic libretto. The rejection of Modest Chaikovsky's libretto led to a number of serious failings in Meyerhold's otherwise brilliant production. For example, at the beginning of Act One the orchestra plays a motif from a children's song. In Modest Chaikovsky's libretto, this scene shows people taking a walk in the Summer Garden. Meyerhold replaced this episode with a drinking scene and showed officers striking up a somewhat risque song. From an artistic point of view, this was unconvincing. Yet despite these failings the production proved to be both magnificent and instructive. But in this case the secret lay in the producer's individual skill; others, trying to follow in Meyerhold's footsteps, could meet with complete failure.

I often wonder which production of Katerina Izmailova--- NemirovichDanchenko's or Smolich's-was closest to my own conceptions. It is extremely difficult to decide, because I really liked both of them, but in different ways. Nemirovich-Danchenko's great talent, and his application of the whole dramatic tradition of the Moscow Art Theatre system to this operatic production, occasionally brought truly staggering results, but at the same time I felt that in places he relied more on Leskov's story than on the libretto of the opera. Smolich's production, however, was marked by a profound knowledge of the mature opera. Musically, his production was on a very high level.^^15^^

67 __NUMERIC_LVL1__ 1936 __ALPHA_LVL1__ At the end of January Shostakovich set off for Arkhangelsk where he and the cellist Victor Kubatsky gave a concert including his Cello Sonata.

This year marked the start of a period of renewed creative and public activity in Shostakovich's life. = The main event, of course, was the premiere of the Fifth Symphony, on 21 November at the Leningrad !'hilharmonia. The orchestra was conducted by Yevgeny Mravinsky, who was a close friend of the composer's for many years. At about the same time the Fifth Symphony was also performed-with equal success -at a special meeting of Party activists.

Although many months in 1937 were taken up with intensive work on the symphony, it was a busy and fruitful period in other respects too. Shostakovich continued to perform his own works. For example, in February he played his Piano Concerto in Tbilisi with the Georgian Philharmonic Orchestra, conducted by Nikolai Rabinovich. In May the second part of the film trilogy about Maxim, Maxim's Return, was released, and shortly thereafter the composer finished music for another film, Volochayevka Days. He also wrote four romances for a planned (but never completed) cycle based on Pushkin's poetry.

In the autumn Shostakovich embarked on a new sphere of activity---teaching. He was invited to work at the Leningrad Conservatoire, where, until 1941, he took a class in composition. His pupils from that period included Sviridov, Yevlakhov, Boldyrev, Lobkovsky, Levitin, Fleischman and others.

Shostakovich began once more to take part in public affairs, appearing in newspapers and participating in various discussions. He showed a great interest in the work of his colleagues: cf.,for example, the extract published here from his review of Oles Chishko's opera Battleship Potyomkin. In short, he was entering a period of maturity and flourishing.

__b_b_b__

Very recently I finished writing my Fifth Symphony, which is to have its first performance at the end of November. At the moment I am putting the finishing touches to the score for Volochayevka Days by the Vasiliev brothers, after which I shall set to work on music for Ermler's film A Great Citizen. Another film in the offing, for which I shall be composing music, is Friends, produced by Tikhonov and Arnstam.

There will be not a great deal of music in Volochayevka Days. The most difficult task for rne here was to write the song which will serve as a leitmotif running right through the film music.

So far I have experienced great difficulty in the field of song-writing. Apart from The Counter Plan, I have not written a single song in the whole of my career as a composer. But the song in Volochayevka Days is quite different from that in The Counter Plan; it is a heroic song, in the fullest sense of the word. It required a good deal of work-I made ten different versions of the song, and only the eleventh satisfied me.

70 __RUNNING_HEADER__ 1937

The reason I am writing at such length about this song is that it runs through all the music in the film. The theme can be sensed everywhere-in the overture to the film, in the finale and in choral sections-and this was where the complexity of the work lay.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

I would like the film music to play an independent role, rather than being a mere accompaniment or an added effect in various sequences. In addition, I would like the music to be entirely realistic and to perform its intended function properly.

In Arnstam and Tikhonov's film Friends, the music will be of very great importance. I shall have to deal, for the first time, with folk music, and I must say his work par icularly ap ealed to me. I am presently studying the songs and music of various Caucasian peoples---from Chechnya, Ingushetia and Kabardino-Balkaria-which I shall use when I start writing music for the film.

On the whole, the music for Friends will play an even greater part than in the earlier film Girlfriends.

As well as film music, I am now starting preliminary work on an opera, also called Volochayevka Days the libretto for which is being written by N. Ya. Bersenev, The opera is to show the foreign intervention during the Civil War and Red Army capturing the Volochayevka fortifications, on which the White guards and interventionists had pinned all their hopes. The opera is still in its initial stages, but many fragments and episodes have been written.

This task has been greatly lightened by my work on the music for the_ film of the same name, which serves as a starting-point for the opera music.

I envisage the opera as a heroic work on a monumental scale, with many crowd scenes. It will include much material based on songs.

My aims in writing the opera are very straightforward. I want it to be a large-scale, heroic work, with truly memorable moments, so that on leaving the hall the audience will take with them a good song, a good aria and passages of symphony music.

I have a lot of material, but there is still a great deal of hard work ahead.

Sometime soon I want to switch over for a while to the field of chamber and vocal music.

When I say vocal music, I am not thinking of large choirs, but of romances, which are written so seldom these days. I have set four of Pushkin's poems to music, but shall not publish them, until the whole cycle of twelve romances is ready.

As far as chamber music is concerned, I intend to take it up very seriously, for this is another neglected area, almost ignored by Soviet composers. I, too, in all my years as a composer, have composed only one sonata for cello and piano. I now propose to write several chamber works for our performers, including such genres as the quartet, concert pieces for piano, and so on.^^1^^

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

71

I think it would be wrong to do away with illustrative music in the cinema entirely, but it is also true that the music should clarify the events and the author's attitude to them. Music is a very powerful emotional force and therefore should not be assigned a merely illustrative role.^^2^^

__*__

Battleship Potyomkin is undoubtedly a great triumph for the Kirov Theatre. Having seen the opera only once, I should not venture to analyse it in detail, but what struck me as best was the work of the orchestra, choir and soloists-and especially of the conductor, Ari Pazovsky. Since this great master joined the theatre, the orchestra has changed beyond recognition: it is now quite magnificent. The same goes for the choir, led by Vladimir Stepanov. The Kirov Theatre again ranks among the top theatres in the Soviet Union.

Chishko's music is very good; I was particularly impressed by Act Two. The choral sections are most successful. The delineation of certain characters, on the other hand, is rather insipid. But in general the work betrays the hand of a master, narrating the heroic Potyomkin epic with sincere emotion, I feel that from a dramatic point of view Spassky's libretto is marvellous. It has been said that there are weak spots in the text, but I have to admit I did not hear them...^^3^^

72 __NUMERIC_LVL1__ 1938 __ALPHA_LVL1__ This was in many ways a noteworthy year in Shostakovich's life. For one thing, by writing his string quartet, the composer made his debut in a new genre which was later to become one of his most successful genres.

Early in the year the composer began work on his Sixth Symphony, which engrossed him completely and was to be his main achievement of the year. = It was first performed on 5 November by the Leningrad Philharmonic under Yevgeny Mravinsky. He also conducted its Moscow premiere, given a month later by the USSR State Symphony Orchestra: once again, a new work by Shostakovich embellished the programme of a ten-day festival of Soviet music.

Shostakovich also continued to work on the Lenin Symphony, hoping to have it finished by the following year. Among the new films with his music were Vyborg District and Part Two of A Great Citizen.

On 23 May Shostakovich was officially confirmed as professor at the Conservatoire,

At a pre-election meeting held at the Leningrad Conservatoire at the beginning of December, the composer was nominated as a candidate for election to the Leningrad City Soviet of Working people Deputies.

__b_b_b__

On 29 December the Kirov Theatre in Leningrad staged a new production of Verdi's opera Othello.

My love for this opera and its great composer is so deep that I set off to the opera as though I were- going to some great celebration. On returning home after the performance, I felt impelled to put a pen to paper, although I am not a professional critic.

Unfortunately, the production was unworthy of Verdi's brilliant work, the only serving grace being Nikolai Pechkovsky's memorable portrayal of Othello.

It seems to me that one of the chief reasons for the failure of the production lay in the conductor, Sergei Yeltsin. Verdi's tragic, passionate score was plainly a little too much for the conductor, whose interpretation bore the stamp of insufferable indifference. The whole of the start of the opera, up to Othello's first phrase, was performed vapidly. The orchestra played with no sign of inspiration; the brass section-trumpets and trombones-was particularly poor. The marvellous grace-notes of the brass just before xhe A-minor tutti in Act One were messed up completely. The double-bass solo in Act Four sounded obnoxious.

I feel exceedingly grieved: may that serve to justify the harshness of my judgement. Boredom, indifference, insipidness and slackness are quite unforgivable in performances of Verdi. Yet this self-evident truth appears to have found no adherents among the musical directors of the theatre.

78 __RUNNING_HEADER__ 1939

While film actors, directors and cameramen have a theory and a whole range of special cinematographic means at their disposal, we musicians have so far been working in the dark, knowing little or nothing about the peculiarities and techniques of the cinema.

The emergence of sound cinema was bound, perhaps, to bring into the foreground the whole question of the musical cinema as an art form. The fusion of word and sound, of sound and action, and the opportunity of using interesting new orchestral combinations---all this raises the same problems for cinema music as have long been successfully solved in `general' music: in the musical drama, opera, the symphony.

Film music is still very often merely illustrative, something `added' to the picture. But it should be,, in my view, an inalienable artistic component of the film.

Admittedly, we are partly ourselves to blame. I am afraid I know of no Soviet theorist or composer who has seriously looked at the theoretical problems of film music. Our music schools are also lagging behind. i'Which of our conservatoires has a composition department which includes in its syllabus the writing of music for the cinema?. f Yet, through the cinema music reaches the widest sections of the popuRation. In this sense, no theatre or concert hall can compete with the cinema, with its audience of millions.

I have done a certain amount of work for the cinema (the music for the films The Counter Plan, Alone, Golden Mountains, Girlfriends, Friends, Maxim's Toutk, Maxim's Return, Vyborg District, Volochqyevka Days and The Man with a Gun}. In the course of all this work, the real idea of cinema music has become clearer and clearer to me. This idea, or rather its purpose, may be formulated something like this: film music must participate in the actual action of the picture. The same demands can and should be made of the music in a film as are made of the scenario, the acting and the production. But if that is the case, the music must also be of the same high quality. Of course, this cannot be achieved overnight: a lot of experimental work is still needed.

In 1940 Shostakovich composed one of his most important pre-war works-his Piano Quintet. = At the end of October it was performed by the composer with the Glazunov Quartet at the Leningrad Composers' Union, to an- audience of musicians and critics; the whole work was repeated as an encore. The Board of the Leningrad Composers' Union decided to recommend the quintet for a Stalin (State) Prize.

Two weeks later the composer performed the new work in Moscow with the Beethoven Quartet. Then, as always, Shostakovich kept to the tradition of first showing any important new work to his colleagues, to hear their opinion, before submitting it to the public for judgement.

The official premiere of the Quintet took place on 23 November in the Small Hall of the Moscow Conservatoire, again as part of a Soviet Music Festival (the programme also included quartets by Shirinsky, Shebalin and Myaskovsky). ' Shostakovich's quintet,' wrote the writer Marietta Shaginyan, 'is a work of genius, in the full sense of the word: it has such power of artistic generalisation that it fully expresses a whole age, that it demonstrates, like a cup filled to the brim, the combined historic efforts and energy of millions of people, that it speaks of everyone. When the magnificent Beethoven Quartet- Tsyganov, Borisovsky and the Shirinsky brothers---solemnly raised their bows, when Shostakovich---a young man yet, pale, not tall, his face with something childlike about it, possessed by music, frail and delicate like Mozart or Chopin---when he placed his fingers on the keys and the first clear, Beethoven-like notes of the prelude scattered through the total silence, the whole hall seemed to lean forward to listen, to drink in and receive, afraid of missing a single drop, like the parched earth under a downpour of rain, I have seen and heard many fine things in my days, but it is hard to remember anything to compare with what I experienced that evening.' The press was unanimous in its enthusiasm about the work. Sergei Prokofiev had high praise for the quintet during a discussion of the Music Festival at the Composers' Union. The work immediately earned a regular place in concert programmes, and in the month left before the New Tear it was given several more performances in Moscow and Leningrad (in the composer's native city he performed it together with the Glazunov Quartet).

Among Shostakovich's other work this year was his reorchestration of Mussorgsky's Boris Godunov, commissioned by the Bolshoi Theatre. His reorchestrated version was not performed until later, however.

In 1939, in recognition of his work for the cinema, Shostakovich was awarded the Order of the Red Banner of Labour,

__b_b_b__

At the end of 1939 I began work on a new orchestration of Mussorgsky's opera Boris Godunov. Rimsky-Korsakov once reorchestrated the opera because he considered that the original contained several shortcomings of a technical kind. Personally, I am not entirely satisfied either by 81 __RUNNING_HEADER__ 1940 Rimsky-Korsakov's or by Mussorgsky's own version. Consequently it occurred to me to do a new version of the work, which is one of the most precious jewels of Russian operatic art,

Rimsky-Korsakov's version is very good as regards the orchestration, but on the musical side I feel it is distinctly inferior to the original. What I wanted to do was to leave virtually every note of the original intact, but orchestrate it differently.

Now the work on Boris Godunnv is in full swing. I have already rewritten the Prologue and half of Act One. I am completely wrapped up in the task and deriving enormous pleasure from it. Naturally I am very anxious about the outcome of the work, and am well aware of the huge responsibility I have taken upon myself. In 1940 my version of Boris Godunov is to be staged by the Bolshoi Theatre.^^1^^

__*__

For a long time I have been planning to write a symphony in memory of Lenin. This is a large and complex work, conceived in the form of a long symphonic work of an oratorial type. My starting-point for the work is Mayakovsky's poem Vladimir Ilyich Lenin. I have already written many fragments for the first two movements, and basically outlined the third and fourth. But this does not mean that the most difficult stage is over: indeed, it is only beginning. I hope to complete the work in 1940. My goal is that this symphony should reflect, at least to some extent, the immortal image and majestic ideas of Vladimir Ilyich Lenin.^^2^^

__*__

I started working on the symphony two years ago. It is a complex and responsible task, and a deeply moving and thrilling one. It is a big symphony involving an orchestra, choir and soloists. The basic text for the work is Vladimir Mayakovsky's Lenin. The poet's passionate, fervent words, full of deep love for Lenin, are gratifying material to work with, but the compressed, laconic language characteristic of Mayakovsky's poetry presents considerable difficulties for the composer.

Apart from Mayakovsky's poem, I am thinking of using folklore, which vividly reflects the ardent love of the people for their great leader. A lot , of intensive work lies ahead, but by applying all my energies I hope to finish the whole symphony this year.^^3^^

__*__

There are many gifted young composers studying at the Leningrad Conservatoire. This year Georgy Sviridov, a composer of great talent, __PRINTERS_P_81_COMMENT__ 6-552 82 will graduate from my class. Muskovites may know him by his early piano concerto, which has been performed a couple of times in the capital. The young Sviridov's personal `stamp' is not yet clearly defined: he is still searching for his own musical language. But his latest Symphony for String Orchestra, which will be performed in the forthcoming music festival in Leningrad, is a very interesting new work.

The ten-day Festival will also include new works by two other very gifted youngsters from my class: Orest Yevlakhov's Piano Concerto and Ivan Boldyrev's Symphony.

Boris Klyuzner, a student in Mikhail Gnesin's class, is also very talented. His Piano Concerto is on the programme of the ten-day Festival.

One of the more interesting new works by older composers represented in the Festival is Maximilian Steinberg's Armenia, which conveys his impressions of a national Armenian festival. Many new instrumental chamber works by Mikhail Gnesin will also be performed.

This summer I completed a Piano Quintet, which I shall be performing in the ten-day Festival together with the Beethoven Quartet.^^4^^

__*__

I spent the whole summer this year writing my Piano Quintet. The day before yesterday, members of the music section of the Stalin Prize Committee listened to it at the Composers' Club in Moscow.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

I am now getting ready for the ten-day Festival of Music. My Piano Quintet will be performed on 23 November, and on the 30th there will be a concert of my works.^^5^^

__*__

While I was studying piano and composition at the Leningrad Conservatoire, I also worked for a while in one of the city's cinemas. At that time there were no sound films, and the pictures were accompanied by a pianist playing popular marches and waltzes. My work there gave me the chance to satisfy my passion for improvisation. I have always enjoyed improvising, and even now I write many pieces which I do not publish, but which serve as `exercises' in composition...

Nearly fifteen years ago, the diploma work of the nineteen-year-old graduate Dmitry Shostakovich, my First Symphony, was premiered in the huge hall of the Leningrad Conservatoire. This year is therefore a kind of jubilee year for me...

My composing, my teaching and my public activities take up almost every minute of my time. My few spare minutes, I must admit, are usually devoted to sport-for I am an incurable football fan...

...Purely as regards the search for form, my work has been subject to diverse influences, but it has always been my desire to create music which would reflect our age, which would convey the thoughts and feelings of Soviet man. This desite lay behind my Dedication to October and May Day symphonies, and behind the music for the films New Babylon, 83 Alone, The Counter Plan, Golden Mountains and the trilogy about Maxim, I was overjoyed that my song for The Counter Plan was eagerly taken up by Soviet young people. I have also written for the stage, my works include the operas The Nose and Katerina Izmailova, and the ballets Bolt, The Golden Age and The Limpid Stream.

My Fifth Symphony, written in 1937, is central to my works as a whole. The actual writing of this symphony was preceded by a long period of inner preparation. Not everything I had written was of equal value. There had been failures. And it was my intention, while writing the Fifth Symphony, that the Soviet listener should perceive a change in my music towards greater clarity and simplicity.

I think the work also reveals a step forward in the sphere of orchestration compared with my earlier pieces. I myself am most satisfied by the third movement, the adagio, in which I feel I achieved a gradual, steady motion from beginning to end. I have heard the opinion expressed that the fourth movement differs in style from the first three. I do not think so, for the finale is in accordance with the work's basic theme and is an answer to all the questions posed in the earlier movements. The central idea of the work is man with all his sufferings, and the finale of the symphony resolves the tragic, tense elements of the first movements on a joyful, optimistic level.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

After the Fifth Symphony, I turned once more to the cinema and wrote the music for the film The Man with a Gun, produced by Sergei Yutkevich.

After this I wrote my First String Quartet. I began it with no particular thoughts or feelings, and thought that nothing would come of it. For the quartet is one of the most difficult musical genres. But soon the work took a proper hold of me. It turned out to be gay, jolly and lyrical, and I entitled it the `Springtime' Quartet. I was very pleased with the splendid performance of the work by the Beethoven Quartet, who were also the excellent first interpreters of my next chamber work, my Piano Quintet.

Between the two chamber works I composed my Sixth Symphony, which various symphony orchestras have already added to their repertoires.

...I can still remember the pleasure I derived when my newly finished Fifth Symphony was heard by an audience of Party activists from the Leningrad branch. I should like to express my wish that the previewing of new works of music by a Party audience be practised more often. Our Party devotes great care and attention to the development of our country's musical life. I have felt this concern all through my career. As a student, the Party organisation came to my help by providing me with an instrument for practice at home, and to this day I still feel the Party's care literally at every step, even in my daily life...

I do not intend here to sum up everything I have done or to hazard a guess as to what I may still achieve. I should like merely to express my aspiration to compose new life-asserting works, capable of inspiring the human soul with courage, joie-de-vivre and a fighting spirit.^^6^^

84 __NUMERIC_LVL1__ 1941 __ALPHA_LVL1__ For Shostakovich, as for all his fellow-countrymen, 1941 was sharply divided into two---the months of peace and the months of war.

overflowing. When I was leaving the building after my performance (I was on first), I was surrounded by a crowd of people wishing to get into the concert. Unfortunately there was nothing I could do, since there was a sign up on the door saying that all the tickets had been sold.

I once asked the artistic director of the Leningrad Philharmonia, Ivan Sollertinsky, how well the season tickets for the 1941-42 season had sold. He told me that they had all long been sold out.

This thirst for music is very characteristic of the Leningraders: Leningrad will always be one of the strongholds of Soviet music.

Hitler boasted that he would take Moscow and Leningrad by storm, and that for the Germans the war against Russia would be a `Blitzkrieg', but the Soviet people have made a mockery of this villainous, vainglorious declaration.

During the defence of Leningrad I started work on my Seventh Symphony. The first movement was finished on 3 September, the second on 17 September, and the third on 29 September. At the moment I am finishing off the fourth and last movement. I have never worked so quickly. When the symphony is complete, however, I have no doubt that it will require a good deal of alteration and polishing.

__*__

I have been in Moscow for ten days. Leningrad is my home town, I was born there, grew up there and went to school there.

The Soviet Union is my homeland, but Leningrad is even closer to my heart-my own house, as it were. And I must go back, however grim things may be there... When one's house is on fire, one must help to put out the flames.^^8^^

91 __NUMERIC_LVL1__ 1942 __ALPHA_LVL1__ Shostakovich's life was normally fairly hectic, but 1942 was a particularly strenuous year for him.

Shostakovich was living a hectic life, dividing his time between Moscow and Kuibyshev, between composing, giving concerts, and attending to his various public duties. At the beginning of April he took part in the Second Pan-Slavic Conference in Moscow, at which he delivered an impassioned speech. That autumn Shostakovich applied himself to his work as Chairman of the Composers' Union, which involved frequent trips from Kuibyshev to the capital. In September he attended a concert in .Moscow given by the pianist Vladimir Sofronitsky, in October he wrote a suite ^called `Jvfy---Leningrad' for the Song and Dance Ensemble -of the NKVD, and ^attended their rehearsals, and in December he was made a member of the Artistic 'Council of the Moscow Conservatoire, where he started teaching the following year.

The composer devoted considerable time to an opera entitled The Gamblers, based on the unabridged text of Gogol's comedy of the same name. Although the work was never completed, Shostakovich thought it necessary to give it an opus number (69); the part of the opera which was completed was first heard in Leningrad in 1978, conducted by Gennady Rozhdestvensky. In 1942 Shostakovich also wrote six romances for bass and piano, based on English poems.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

Shostakovich was awarded the Stalin Prize (First Class) again this year, this time for his Seventh Symphony. He was also given another state honour for his services to the arts in the Russian Federation.

__b_b_b__

I am extremely satisfied with the performance. The excellent orchestra of the Bolshoi Theatre with its conductor Samuil Samosud played the work superbly. The fate of the symphony---which was written under the impression of the Leningraders' heroic defence of their city, and is dedicated to these valiant Sovie! patriots-is in capable hands.^^1^^

__*__

My Seventh Symphony will be performed today for the first time in Moscow, in the Columned Hall of the Trade Union House. It is to be played by the combined orchestras of the Bolshoi Theatre and the Radio Committee, conducted by Samuil Samosud. The members of the orchestra and the conductor have all done a great deal of preparation for the performance and have coped beautifully. My intentions have been brilliantly put into practice by these excellent musicians.

For any Soviet composer the Moscow premiere of one of his compositions is an event of the utmost importance. On this happy day, I would like to describe some of my thoughts about the Seventh Symphony. I began work on the symphony at the end of July 1941, and finished it in December of that year. It turned out to be a large-scale work, lasting one hour and twenty minutes. It was written under the influence of the sinister events of 1941. The Nazis' cunning and perfidious attack on our motherland closed the ranks of our people in the fight to repel the evil enemy. The Seventh Symphony is a poem about our struggle and about our coming victory.

Almost the whole symphony was written in my home town of Leningrad. Enemy raiders were breaking through our defences. The city was subjected to bombing from the air and artillery fire from outside. All the Leningraders joined forces and together with the Red Army swore to repel the enemy.

I completed the symphony on 27 December 1941. It was premiered in Kuibyshev on 5 March, and on 29 March it will be played in Moscow, the heart of our motherland.

The whole of our country is keenly interested in culture. Even during these difficult war days new musical works are being learned and performed. New plays are being put on in the theatres. Artists arc working on new paintings.

In wartime our culture is developing and moving forward. Artists, musicians and writers, together with the rest of our countrymen, are helping the Red Army rout the enemy. I dedicate my Seventh Symphony to our struggle against fascism, to our coming victon, and to my native Leningrad.^^2^^

__*__

My Seventh Symphony is a programme work, charged with the sinister events of 1941. It has four movements. The first movement tells of'how the evil force of war broke into our peaceful, wonderful life. I did not try to depict naturalistic war sounds (the noise of aeroplanes, the rumble of tanks, the whistle of bullets): it is not a battle-piece. I wanted to convey the essence of the terrible events.

The exposition of the first movement tells of the happy lives of our people, their confidence in themselves and in their future-the kind of life that before the war thousands of Leningraders, indeed all our countrymen, were leading.

The theme of war can be heard through the whole of the middle section.

A central position in the first movement is occupied by a funeral march, or rather, a requiem for the victims of the war. The Soviet people honour 95 the memory of their heroes. After the requiem comes an even more tragic episode. I do not even know how to describe this music. Perhaps it contains a mother's tears, or even that,feeling when one's grief is so great that there are no tears left. After a long bassoon solo, describing the suffering of friends and relations of those who perish in the war,'comes the bright, lyrical conclusion to the first movement. Only at the very end can the theme of war be heard again in the distance, reminding us of the struggle still to come.

The third movement is an emotional adagio. Ecstasy in life and admiration of nature-these are the main themes running through this movement, which flows into the fourth without a break. The first and the fourth movements are the most important in the composition. The first is the struggle, the fourth the impending victory. The fourth opens with a short introduction, followed by the exposition of the stirring first theme. The second theme, triumphal in mood,"is the climax of the entire composition. The climax develops peacefully and assuredly, culminating in the grand, joyful sound of the finale.

Such are the thoughts which I should like to share with the listeners of my symphony.

... During the Great Patriotic War our writers, artists and musicians are working hard and prolifically, because they are inspired by the most progressive ideas of our age. And as the cannons roar, our muses also raise their mighty heads. No one shall ever wrench the pen from our hands.^^3^^

__*__

Hitler and his criminal gang proclaimed to the whole world that the Slavs were an inferior race, historically determined to be slaves. The meaning behind this presumptuous nonsense is perfectly clear: the fascists hate the Slavs as they hate any talented nation, endowed with clearness of thought and noble human aspirations. I am proud to be Russian. I am proud to be a son of the people which gave birth to the great Lenin. I am proud to belong to the Slavonic race which gave the world giants of literature such as Pushkin and Tolstoy. I am proud that my blood brothers, the Poles, produced Mickiewicz, and that my fellow Slavs, the Serbs, created the epos, a genre which has been a source of pleasure for all civilised humanity down the centuries.

As a musician I am proud that my country's music occupies a most honourable position in world musical culture. Glinka, Borodin, Mussorgsky and Chaikovsky - all sons of Russia-are great composers who have delighted audiences for over a century now. The Slavonic peoples have played a very important role in the cultural development of man-' kind. The Slavs are a very musical race. Their melodies have always served as a source of inspiration for the greatest musicians: suffice to 96 mention Beethoven's famous `Rissian' Quartets, or Brahms' numerous adaptations of Serbian songs. Think of the exquisitely beautiful Polish folk music, which nourished the genius of Chopin, think of the Czech composers Dvorak, Smetana and Janacek, or of our great Polish contemporary Karol Szymanowski...

__b_b_b__

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

The task facing us today is to create music about the present, about the important events now taking place. These works should be topical, pointed and captivating. But topicality does not imply less artistic integrity in a work. Topicality must be harnessed by talent. Moreover it should not only be short pieces that we are composing, but also largescale, monumental works. We should learn from the great artists of the past how to serve one's nation in its years of tribulation,

We have already done a certain amount of good, but we must create more and better works. We value the future too highly to be able to rest on our laurels. A great writer was once asked, 'Which of your works do you consider the best?' His answer was 'I haven't written it yet.' We too must never sit back, but always strive towards greater success. Our successes should spur us on to greater achievements and better work. As Soviet musicians we should stubbornly seek out new styles. We should advance further and further, tirelessly perfecting, never stopping for a moment, never forgetting that our art is serving our people and that it is one of the weapons in the struggle against the enemy and in forging peace.

We enjoy the support of the state, and are surrounded with care and attention by the government and the people. We must justify their confidence in us and the hopes they have placed on us. Forward into victorythis is the motto of Soviet musicians, the inheritors of the great traditions of world musical culture.

In his work Mozart and Salieri, Pushkin ascribes the following words to Mozart; 'Genius and evil are incompatible.* This always comes to mind when I think of the fate of Soviet culture, art and music. Our art is equipped with the most humane and progressive ideas. It is full of deep love for our country and a belief in humanism, reason and light. These noble ideas have inspired all thinking people throughout history, and will help us create works which accurately reflect our age.^^4^^

__*__

I have put a good deal of my strength and energy into this composition, I have never before worked with such enthusiasm. There is a wellknown expression which runs: 'When the guns roar, the muse is silent.' This can justly be applied to those guns whose roar suppresses life, happiness and culture. These are guns of darkness, violence and evil. We are fighting for the victory of reason over obscurantism, of justice over barbarity. There can be no nobler or more elevated a task than that which inspires us to fight against the evil force of nazism.

97 __CAPTION__ Glier, Shostakovich, Steinberg
and Fier in the wings of the
opera house in Kuibyshev (1942)
Samosud, Shostakovich, Baturin
and the Bblshoi personnel
in the wings of the Kuibyshev http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

opera house after the
premiere of the Seventh
Symphony (1942)

98

Today I learned that my latest symphony has been awarded the highest distinction - the Sialin Prize. This gives me new strength.^^3^^

__*__

At the beginning of the war-on 22 or 23 June-1 volunteered to join the Red Army. I was told to wait. I applied again after hearing Comrade Stalin's speech about the people's volunteer corps. I was told that I would be accepted, but in the meantime I was to carry on my normal work, I was working in the Conservatoire, the term was nearly over. Classes carried on only till 1 July, and I was teaching and examining students. I did not go away on holiday, and spent day and night at the Conservatoire.

I approached the people's volunteer corps for a third time, thinking they had forgotten about me. They were flooded with applications, including one from Professor Nikolayev, who was then seventy.

I was made director of the musical section of the people's volunteer theatre. After the war I will write about this theatre, which went off to entertain at the front.

It was difficult to head the musical section of this theatre, since the only instruments were accordions. I applied to join the Red Army again, and was received by a Commissar. After hearing me out he said it would not be easy to draft me into the army, and advised me to limit my activities to writing music. After that I was dismissed from the people's volunteer theatre and informed that I was to be evacuated from Leningrad. I did not want to be evacuated because I thought I could be of more use where I was. I had a serious talk about this with the authorities. They said I should go, but I was in no hurry to leave the city, where a true fighting spirit reigned. Women, children and old people acted courageously. I will always remember the women of Leningrad who selflessly struggled to put out incendiary bombs, and in general displayed heroism in every way.

As for myself, I kept watch on the roof of the Conservatoire as a volunteer fireman.

I started work on my Seventh Symphony on 19 July. By the 29 September I had finished the third movement. Such was the atmosphere that I wrote the three long movements (52 minutes of music) very quickly. I thought that the speed at which I was writing might have an adverse effect on the quality of the music, but friends who listened to it spoke highly of it.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

The dates are very clear in my head. The first movement was completed on 3 September, the second on 17, the third on 29 September. I worked day and night. I could hear ack-ack guns firing and shells exploding as I worked. But I never stopped writing.

On 25 September I celebrated my thirty-fifth birthday. I worked particularly hard that day, and I am told that the music I wrote then is particularly moving.^^6^^

99

The thoughts and feelings evoked by Ivan Susanin are now more poignant than ever. One of the strongest is a feeling of fury against our present enemy-Hitler's Germany-and a feeling of confidence in our strength.

The fascist plunderers want to destroy our culture. The whole world trembled with indignation on learning of their vandalism at Yasnaya Polyana, Klin, Novgorod and Kanev. We shall never forget Chaikovsky's trampled manuscripts, and never forgive the monstrous crimes committed at Lev Tolstoy's estate., Yasnaya Polyana. We shall avenge the atrocities at Tikhvin, Rimsky-Korsakov's birthplace, and at Kanev, where Taras Shevchenko is buried.

Many decades have passed since the first performance of Ivan Susanin in St. Petersburg. Glinka's brilliant ideas have now been realised to full effect on the Soviet stage, and his immortal opera has been heard in all its beauty.

Ivan Susanin, which grew out of the best ideals of the Russian people, has not dated and will never do so. For our people will always cherish the noble, elevated feelings which Glinka's inimitable genius revealed to us: love of our country and hatred of its enemies.^^7^^

__*__

My entire musical career has been closely linked to the Leningrad Philharmonic Orchestra. Beginning with my First Symphony, which was first performed in 1926, all my new works have been premiered by this excellent orchestra. Fjspecially memorable were the premieres of my Fifth and Sixth Symphonies, wonderfully interpreted by Yevgeny Mravinsky.

I am happy that this first-rate orchestra is now rehearsing my Seventh Symphony. Judging from their first rehearsals with the conductor, they will give a superb performance. I am eagerly looking forward to the day of the premiere.

I am very glad that I have managed to come to Novosibirsk-one of the industrial and cultural centres of the Soviet Union-to hear the familiar, inimitable sounds of the Leningrad Philharmonia. Many orchestras, both here and abroad, have played my works, but no other has captured my ideas so perfectly.^^8^^

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

__*__

The way things have worked out, I have recently been separated from my favourite orchestra. It is working in Novosibirsk, and I am living in Kuibyshev. I need hardly describe my joy when I learned that it was interested in my Seventh Symphony. I excitedly set off for Novosibirsk to see my dear friends again.

I spent almost a month in Novosibirsk, where I once again felt myself steeped in the familiar Leningrad atmosphere. Far away in the middle of Siberia I suddenly remembered Leningrad, to which I had become so unaccustomed and for which I longed so desperately. During the rehearsals and concerts I again became aware of the city's high level of culiure, and of its interest in art, which is so important in the creative process.

I should like to say that it was not only Mravinsky and his orchestra's talent and diligence which contributed to the great success of my symphony. No less important was the wealth of artistic experience accumulated by them over long years of work. Both Mravinsky and the Leningrad Philharmonic have learned and performed many excellent works of different styles. Together they have attained that level of universality which is the hallmark of truly great artists. I should say in passing that it is at this kind of universality that all Soviet composers and performers ought to be aiming. We should be able to play everything, and compose in all genres.

It was nice to note that despite long months of separation from their beloved home town, the Leningrad Philharmonic Orchestra has carefully preserved all its finest qualities, and even added to them in many ways. The orchestra won the wholehearted admiration of their audiences in Novosibirsk.

I, too, shall never forget my joy at hearing their performance of my symphony.^^9^^

The Beethoven Quartet will give two chamber concerts on 5 and 13 September in the Small Hall of the Moscow Conservatoire. I shall join them to play the piano part in my Quintet. The programme also includes Prokofiev's quartet based on Caucasian themes (to be played for the first time in Moscow). I am also looking forward to the forthcoming concert by the All-Union Radio Orchestra, which is to perform my Seventh Symphony on 14 September in the Grand Hall of the Conservatoire. The conductor will be the winner of the All-Union Conductors' Competition, Konstantin Ivanov.^^10^^

*

I am presently working on a symphonic composition dedicated to the twenty-fifth anniversary of Soviet power. The work is conceived as a symphonic poem, inspired by the Great Patriotic War. I cannot say much more about it, however, as it is still in its initial stage.

101 1942

Next year marks the twentieth anniversary of the Beethoven Quartet. These musicians were the first to perform the few chamber works I have written, and I would like, if at all possible, to celebrate their anniversary by writing a new quartet for them.

Apart from this, I have been asked by the Musical Ensemble of the NKVD to write an overture for their new programme, `October'. I am also writing music for two items on the programme-a song about Leningrad and a sailors' dance.

Once this work is finished, I shall return to Kuibyshev, where I have been living since I had to leave Leningrad, apart from occasional trips to Moscow. I was also in Novosibirsk, at the invitation of the Leningrad Philharmonic Orchestra.

I have made Kuibyshev my temporary home. I work well there, and carry out my duties as Chairman of the Composers' Union. But, of course, no matter how comfortably I have settled in, or how well I work there, I am always drawn to Leningrad, where I grew up and where I lived so happily before the war, and where it was such an honour to be when it was under siege.''

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

The pianist Vladimir Sofronitsky has recently been giving concerts in Moscow. This splendid musician has become very popular with a wide audience. A pianist of great finesse, Sofronitsky devotes all the skills and means at his disposal to the task of penetrating the essence of a work and conveying it to the listener.

Sofronitsky^^1^^ technical skill is astounding. But his execution of a piece is so imperceptible that the listener becomes totally absorbed in the ideas of the work itself. Sofronitsky conveys the composer's intention with great insight and understanding. He is a musician capable of giving a philosophical interpretation of the piece he is performing. The power of his performance wins the hearts of his audiences. Very often at the end of one of his concerts, one can hear members of the audience saying how wonderful Beethoven is, or how interesting Scriabin, or how poetic Chopin. This is the highest praise for a performer, whose technique is not an end in itself, but a means to uncover as fully as possible the full potential of a work of music.

Sofronitsky came to Moscow from Leningrad, where, in spite of the seige and the severe winter, he continued to nurture and develop his remarkable talents. He is an astounding Soviet musician, who works hard to perfect his skills, and is maturing as a master with very high standards.^^12^^

102 1943

At the beginning of 1943 Shostakovich moved to Moscow, to a new flat on Mozhaisk Highway (now Kutuzov Avenue). He resumed his teaching activities at the Conservatoire, where he took a class in composition till 1948. Some of his pupils were: Revol Bunin, German Galynin, Akhmet Djevdet Gadjiev, Kara Karayev, Yevgeny Makarov, Karen Khachaturian, Boris Chaikovsky and Alexander Chugayev,

In the spring Shostakovich headed a commission set up to examine the curriculum of the performers' department at the Conservatoire. He took an active part in the work of the Organising Committee of the Composers' Union, In May he became adviser to the Arts Committee.

Shostakovich was going through a period of intense creativity. On 12 April he played the Arts Committee his newly completed Second Piano Sonata, dedicated to the memory of Leonid Nikolayev, who had recently passed away. Three days later Shostakovich played his sonata in the Composers'" Club,

Spring also saw a production of Boris Godunov in Shostakovich's new version, written before the war. After this, the composer devoted all his time to his .Eighth Symphony, which he finished in the summer while living in a composers' house near Ivanovo. Here', too, he played it to Khachaturian and Makarov, and the musicologist G. Schneierson. During his vacation at this house belonging to the Composers' Union, Shostakovich made a trip into the town of Ivanovo to meet the cadets of the Infantry School, and played them fragments from his Seventh Symphony.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

The symphonic season at the Grand Hall of the Moscow Conservatoire opened on 15 October. The programme, conducted by Alexander Melik-Pashayev, included Shostakovich's Fifth Symphony.

Before this, on 21 September, Shostakovich played his Eighth Symphony to the Arts Committee, which included many leading musicians. It was premiered on 4 November in the Grand Hall of the Moscow Conservatoire by the USSR State Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Yevgeny Mravinsky-to whom it was dedicated.

The symphony provoked many arguments in musical circles: it had its zealous devotees and its bitter opponents. Among the former was the famous writer Leonid Leonov, who wrote in Literaturnaya Gazeta on 7 November: 'This work by our great contemporary composer speaks boldly of the grief and fury of the Soviet people, waging a war of life and death against the fascist invaders. In the structure of the symphony the composer has found a means of expressing complex thoughts and emotions. We hear nature, the thunder of war, meditations, and a deep and sensitive expression of those moods and ideas which trouble our generation. There is perfect fusion of the general and the particular, a distinguishing mark of all great works of art.

'But the greatness of the Eighth Symphony lies not only in this. When I hear Liszt, Chaikovsky or Glinka, I have the impression t! at I am stepping into a familiar, lived-in house, through whose windows I have long been accustomed to admiring familiar corners of the world. Listening of Shostakovich''s Eight Symphony, on the other hand, I feel as though the composer's masterful hand is leading me to new windows, to a completely unfamiliar world-and a world expressed in a new musical idiom.'

Despite his numerous duties, Shostakovich, as before, showed an interest in everything that was going on in the arts, especially in the work of his colleagues. On 20 November he visited Alexander Goldenweiser, and listened to his operas The ,

103 1943

Singers and The Feast at the Time of the Plague. He wrote a review in Pravda of the premiere of Vladimir Turousky's ballet Red Sails. On the occasion of the fiftieth anniversary of Chaikovskf s death, Shostakovich wrote an article expounding his views on the great Russian composer's work.

Shostakovich's music continued its triumphant march round the world; his Seventh Symphony, for example, was performed in Montreal, Goteborg, Melbourne, BuenosAires, Montevideo and Santiago. In April he received a recording of the symphony, conducted by Ariu.ro Toscanini, and immediately sent the conductor a warm telegram of gratitude.

Tet another title was bestowed upon the composer this year: he was elected honorary member of the American Academy of Arts and Letters.

For two years now, our Motherland and all her people have been waging war against Hitler's bandits. Our glorious Red Army has shown the whole world its unique heroism and military skill.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

A great historical mission has fallen to our lot, and we shall carry out this mission to gain happiness for our people and our beloved Motherland.'

For six months I often spent whole days and nights feverishly working on a new edition of Boris Godunov. For me this was a significant landmark in my work. Such close and lengthy contact with an original musical score belonging to the greatest Russian composer enriched me, giving me the chance to study Mussorgsky's work in depth.

The orchestral rehearsals of my version of Boris Godunov, in the capable hands of Samuil Samosud, afforded me much pleasure. I was also shown sketches for the stage sets of the opera by the artist Pavel Williams. They are very good.

The Bolshoi Theatre singers chosen for the opera are also excellent, and I have no doubt that this production will turn out to be an important landmark in the history of Soviet theatre.^^2^^

At the Composers' Union recently, Yuri Levitin played his oratorio The Sacred War to Moscow musicians. Levitin has been writing music for seven years, and has written many works of talent, inventiveness and good taste. He has tried his hand at several genres, not restricting himself to one narrow speciality. Levitin's composition technique is beautifully developed, and he has mastered instrumentation, polyphony and form. His oratorio The Sacred War and his Second String Quartet are the most important of his recent compositions.

The theme of The Sacred War is immense and majestic, and naturally affects all artists.

104 1943

... The quality of Levitin's new work is not uniform: it has its shortcomings. But the joy which is aroused by the appearance of a talented new work deadens all desire to criticise, I would like to postpone the criticism it deserves until I have heard the works being played by an orchestra.

Levitin's Second Quartet is superb in its depth of thought and sonority, and illustrates the composer's fine understanding of the quartet style.^^3^^

I recently finished work on my Eighth Symphony. I wrote it very quickly-in just over two months. I had no earlier plan for this work, and when the Seventh Symphony was finished, I intended to compose an opera and a ballet, and started work on an oratorio about the defenders of Moscow. But in the end I put aside the oratorio and .started'work on my Eighth Symphony. There are no concrete events described in it. It reflects my thoughts, feelings and elevated creative mood, which could not help being influenced by the joyful news of the Red Army's victories. My new work is an attempt to look into the future, to the post-war era.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

The Eighth Symphony contains many tragic and dramatic inner conflicts. But on the whole it is an optimistic, life-asserting work. The first movement is a long adagio, with a dramatically tense climax. The second movement is a march, with scherzo elements, and the third is a forceful, dynamic march. The fourth movement, in spite of its march form, is sad in mood. The fifth and final movement is bright and gay, like a pastorale, with various dance elements and folk motifs.

Comparing this symphony with my previous works, I would say that it is closest in mood to my Fifth Symphony and Quintet. And I think that certain thoughts and ideas contained in previous works have been further developed in my Eighth Symphony. The philosophical conception of my new work can be summed up in three words: life is beautiful. All that is dark and evil rots away, and beauty triumphs.^^4^^

There is no Russian composer of the late nineteenth or early twentieth centuries who does not owe some aspect of his work to the influence of Chaikovsky. The author of six symphonies and of the most important and popular Russian operas, Chaikovsky was one of the true fathers of Russian music. His genius combined uncommon natural giftedness with prolific creativity lasting many decades. There is literally no musical genre on which he did not leave an important mark. His creative output spanned the symphony and the song, opera and;romance, sonata and ballet, and concerto and humoresque.

Chaikovsky's music influenced his contemporaries regardless of their musical direction or way of thinking. But his greatest influence was on his scions. The traditional line of Russian music, which Chaikovsky inherited from Glinka, was carried on by his pupil Taneyev, and later by Scriabin

105 1943

and Rakhmaninov. I know of no Soviet composer who did not to some extent feel the beneficial influence of Chaikovsky. Shaporin, Shebalin, Myaskovsky, Prokofiev, Khachaturian and Dzerzhinsky have all, to varying degrees, inherited the melodic and harmonic traditions of Chaikovsky. The distinguishing philosophical and musical features of Chaikovsky's work have also left a very deep mark on my own mind. When I embark on any new work, I invariably think of the method used by this unsurpassed master, our teacher in the art of composing.

To desribe exactly why I love Ghaikovsky would be very difficult, and would require a detailed, analytical aricle. But if I were to explain my admiration and respect for his work in one phrase, I would say it was because of the complete absence in him of indifference and idle music-making,

Ghaikovsky is near and dear not only to us musicians. Like Pushkin, he is a fundamental part of the Russian consciousness. Without Chaikovsky we could not live through days of national sorrow, his name is always with us in days of victory, and in years such as these, when the Russian national spirit rides high.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

I would like to examine two moot points here. It is often claimed that Chaikovsky's work is `tinged' with the spirit of pessimism. This misconception stems from the fact that certain contemporary researchers, like the majority of pre-revolutionary critics and musicologists, confuse pessimism with a vivid sense of the tragic. In all the centuries of world art, man's tragic conception of the world has never been better expressed than in the Greek tragedies. Yet no one would ever think of reproaching them for pessimism. Chaikovsky has the same sense of the tragic, conflicting development of human life. With the perspicacity of a true philosopher, and the intuition of a great artist, he sensed the contradictory, dialectical path of world development, of the fate of man and mankind. But Chaikovsky's work does not bear the stamp of fatalism or gloom. His most tragic works are moved by the spirit of struggle, and by the aspiration to overcome blind, elemental forces.

Chaikovsky believed in the immeasurable strength of human reason and in the power and harmony of the universe. Everything he wrote is permeated by this bright, rational faith.

I would also like to refute another commonly held belief. Certain `theorists' claim that Chaikovsky is akin to Chekhov and Levitan in his elegiac glorification of the Russian twilight at the end of the last century. This is unfair not only to Chaikovsky, but also to Chekhov and Levitan, whose work is full of a strong life-asserting force. The three artists do, however, have much in common; their elegiac perception of Russian nature, their tender, emotional lyricism, and most importantly, their total lack of indifference to the world. There is always passionate blood pulsing beneath the restrained outer form of their works. Their perception of the tragic in life is also the same. Chaikovsky wrote his Sixth Symphony, Chekhov his The Black Monk (which is, by the way, one of the most musical works of Russian literature, written almost in sonata form), and Levitan injected the same passion and artistic fervour into his depiction of

106 1943

a Russian snowstorm. It should be noted here that in Chaikovsky's most tragic compositions (e. g. his Sixth Symphony and The Queen of Spades), as in the best works of Russian realist art and literature, the dominant idea is not resignation, but determination to overcome a tragic fate.

There is still a tendency today to speak of the Rimsky-Korsakov school as the leading school of Russian composition. It is time to give the Chaikovsky school its due, and to acknowledge the wealth and diversity of his composition technique. He is unequalled in his ability to develop a musical idea and in his faculty for orchestration. I have the utmost respect for Chaikovsky as an orchestrator, for he seldom wrote music and then orchestrated it, but wrote directly for the orchestra, thinking orchestrally, as it were. If I ever find myself in difficulty when working on a composition, I always find a comprehensive answer to my problem in Chaikovsky's composition technique.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

Another point to be borne in mind is that in his treatment of works of Russian literature, Chaikovsky was never, in the generally accepted sense of the word, a musical `interpreter' of literature. His compositions based on Pushkin are not poetry transposed into music. His images of Tatiana, Onegin, Lensky, Herman and Mazepa are not mere borrowings from Pushkin, but are consanguineous with Pushkin's works, the pride of Russian poetry.

The national character of Chaikovsky's music can be explained by his deep understanding of his contemporaries' and compatriots' souls, and by his sensitivity towards Russian nature. He did not, however, have a narrow nationalistic outlook, and often drew on foreign sources for his works (e.g. his three ballets, his opera lolanthe, and his Capriccio italieri). Yet even with their non-Russian subjects, these works are as national in spirit and character as the rest of Chaikovsky's music.

Chaikovsky's music is not only one of the cornerstones of Russian (and world) music: it is also a kind of creative and technical encyclopaedia, which every Russian composer finds it necessary to consult. His ability to alter and vary his musical material is astounding (cf. his treatment of the theme of fate at the beginning of the first movement and then in the waltz of his Fifth Symphony).

Chaikovsky's music is particularly dear to the heart of contemporary Soviet man. It is indicative that the German vandals, having taken it ' into their heads to strangle Russian and Soviet culture, destroyed Chaikovsky's house at Klin. The initiators and executors of this unparalleled act of malice will be severely punished.

At all the most difficult moments of the war, we have remembered Chaikovsky. In our hour of triumph we hear his music. And when finally Hitler's hordes are routed once and for all, Chaikovsky's music will merge with the victory march which will sound over the length and breadth of our great and wonderful land.^^5^^

107 1943

During the war our artists have produced very many excellent works full of patriotism and hatred towards the enemy. I think that both the number and quality of these compositions will grow-the Teheran Conference has boosted the creative morale of the world's leading artists.

When the war ends, and the evil forces of nazism disappear from the face of the earth, when fascist tyranny and misanthropy are things of the past, there will be an unprecedented flourishing of all forms of art. Spurred on by progressive ideas, it will hold high the flag of culture and humanity.

In our works we shall always advocate peace and happiness on earth. History has passed sentence on fascism. The sentence will soon be executed.^^6^^

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

108 1944

Shostakovich was deeply grieved by the death of one of his closest friends-Ivan Sollertinsky. On 15 February he started writing a Piano Trio dedicated to his memory. He finished this work, and also his Second Quartet, while he was living at the Ivanovo Composers' House during the summer. In early November the composer played his new works at the Composers' Union, together with the Beethoven Quartet, and then set off for Leningrad with the same ensemble. Here, on 14 November, the premieres of both works took place in the Grand Hall of the Philharmonia ; the programme also included his Quintet. The same concert was given again two weeks later in the Grand Hall of the Moscow Conservatoire.

Besides his chamber compositions, Shostakovich was also working on music for Lev Amstam's film Zoya, which was released on 22 November.

As before, Shostakovich was active in the Composers' Union. At the plenum of the Organising Committee at the end of March, Shostakovich gave a detailed report on the subject 'Soviet music During the War'. Parts oj the speech were published at that time in the journal Literatura i Iskusstvo, but only thirty years later was it published in full, in the magazine Sovetskaya Muzyka.

Shostakovich's Eighth Symphony was often performed this year, both in the Soviet Union and abroad. On 6 December Yevgeny Mravinsky conducted it for the first time in Leningrad, now liberated from the blockade. Before that, the symphony was played in New Tork, conducted by Artur Rodynski (2 April), in Boston, conducted by Serge Koussevitzky (21 and 22 April), in Mexico, conducted by Carlos Chavez (26 May), and in London, conducted by Sir Henry Wood (23 July).

On II February 1944 Ivan Sollertinsky passed away in Novosibirsk. His death was completely unexpected. He was young, at the peak of his strength and energies. He was 41 when he died.

Sollertinsky was a great and colourful personality. It would be difficult to meet someone better versed in all aspects of life. But he devoted the best of his energies to music, his favourite art form.

109 1944

Our next meeting took place in the spring of 1926. Students from Leningrad were sitting a philosophy exam which they had to pass to qualify for post-graduate scholarships. Sollertinsky was among the students waiting to be called before the examination commission.

I was very nervous about the exam. Soon Sollertinsky's name was called. He came back out very quickly, and I plucked up courage to ask him whether the exam was very difficult. 'No, not at all,' came the reply. 'What did they ask you?' 'The simplest of things-the birth of materialism in ancient Greece, the materialist tendencies in Sophocles' poetry, English philosophers of the seventeenth century, and one or two other things.'

Needless to say, his reply threw me into complete panic.

Eventually we met again at the house of a Leningrad musician. I remember, the host was celebrating his birthday, or some other important event. There were only three or four guests, including Sollertinsky and myself. The time flew past unnoticed, I was amazed to discover that Sollertinsky was a modest, very jolly, witty, and completely down-toearth person. My conviction that a truly great person is always unassuming and modest, with his feet planted firmly on the ground, was once again confirmed. Our hospitable host kept us late, so that when we left, the city transport had stopped running and we had to go home on foot. Sollertinsky and I lived near each other, so we walked together. The long walk home passed in a flash: Ivan spoke so interestingly about many different aspects of life and art. In the course of our conversation it turned out that I did not know a single foreign language, and Ivan could not play the piano. So the very next day he gave me my first German lesson, and I gave him his first piano lesson. The lessons, however, did not last long, and neither of us learned what we set out to, but from that time onwards we were the closest of friends.

Sollertinsky loved all kinds of celebrations, and had planned to celebrate twenty years of our friendship in the winter of 1941. But this celebration never took place, unfortunately, as we were separated by the war. The last time I saw him he was planning to celebrate the twenty-fifth anniversary of our first meeting in 1947. But in 1947 I shall be on my own to recall how twenty-five years earlier life gave me a remarkable friend, and how he was taken from me in 1944,

110 1944

teria. Despite his partiality, Sollertinsky was able to remain completely objective. This is borne out by his work in the Leningrad Philharmonia, where he worked from 1927 (from 1939 as its artistic director). The concert programmes at the Leningrad Philharmonia were always extremely interesting and diverse. And the fact that the Leningrad Philharmonic is one of the world's leading orchestras is due to the services of Ivan Sollertinsky...

In the last months of his life, Sollertinsky longed to return to Leningrad. He had worked out some very interesting plans for concerts at the Leningrad Philharmonia. He was overjoyed by the Red Army's glorious victories, for thanks to them his dreams were beginning to come true.^^1^^

I recently completed two new works---my Piano Trio and my Second Quartet. Dmitry Tsyganov, Sergei Shirinsky and myself will give the trio its first performance this season in the Small Hall of the Moscow Conservatoire. I am also looking forward to hearing Lev Oborin, David Oistrakh and Sergei Knushevitsky play the trio.

A few days ago I showed my new quartet to the members of the Beethoven Quartet-Dmitry Tsyganov, Vassily Shirinsky, Vadim Borisovsky and Sergei Shirinsky. I hope they will manage to play it in the coming

Nothing fills my heart with more pride than the thunder of guns firing a salute over our capital. Never in history has the glory of the Russian armed forces been so high. The Soviet land is cleansed of the fascist scum, and the Red Army is continuing its victorious march in Czechoslovakia, Yugoslavia, Poland, Norway, Hungary and Eastern Prussia, Our sacred weaponry, forged in the fire of a three-year long war, is bringing freedom to our oppressed brothers and just retribution to our enemies.

Today I recall the previous Octobers of the war years.

In 1941 the Germans were at the gates of Moscow and on Leningrad's doorstep. In 1942 they were in the streets of Stalingrad and on the Terek, In 1943 the red flag was raised again in Kiev, but the Germans were still in the Crimea, in Kherson and Orsha, and in the vicinity of Leningrad. And now in 1944, in the year of victory, the Red Army is at the walls of Budapest and Warsaw, near Tilsit and Memel, in Sofia, Bucharest and Belgrade. In terror, vile, hateful fascist Germany awaits retribution. It is not far off. And although there are still tribulations ahead, all of us today can sense; the approaching final victory.

Ill

1944

Not long ago I made a trip to Leningrad, my home town. Every stone here is a monument to the great courage of the Soviet people. We remember how people here were dying of hunger and deprivation, but still did not open the gates of the city. The city today is as proud and beautiful as ever, our old `Peter', the city of Pushkin and Lenin. Its factories and cultural establishments are again being brought to life.

I saw the magnificent Grand Hall of the Leningrad Philharmonia-as beautiful and splendid as it was before the war. Much credit for the preservation of this building is due to a small number of the Philharmonia's employees who stayed in Leningrad right through the blockade. We should appreciate the honesty and devotion of these people who voluntarily remained in a city beset by hunger in order to look after one of the cradles of our art. How many other unknown patriots are there in Leningrad, and in the whole of our remarkable country! Their wonderful selfsacrifice is one of the main contributors to our present victories.

Today, as the Great Patriotic War is coming to an end, its historical significance is even more apparent. It is a war of culture and light against the foul morality of murderers. If we did not possess a /high culture, we could never have overpowered the evil, heavily-armed enemy. Soviet culture, our knowledge and our military expertise proved to be many times superior to the misanthropic ersatz-culture of the fascist thugs. Our army was victorious thanks to the might of its military technology, to its moral strength, and to its strength of heart and mind.

Artistic creativity is one of the elements of the great Soviet culture. It should be remembered today not with a mind to exalting the services of individual masters, but so that we may understand the richness of our nation's spiritual life over the past twenty-seven years. In particular I feel that Soviet music has maintained the high standards set by Chaikovsky, 'the Great Five', and Scriabin, and developed these traditions in a worthy manner.

Russian chamber music is blossoming today, producing works of classical importance. The remarkable development of the national music of the non-Russian Soviet republics is also widely known. Our art is highly acclaimed by our people. The people sincerely rejoice in our cultural successes, and are disappointed in our failures. I think that the main guarantee of the future success of Soviet music lies in this close affinity with its broad-based audience.

What are my dreams today, as I think about the future of the arts in the Soviet Union?

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

I have a dream-common, I should think to every Soviet artist-of creating a large-scale work which will express the powerful feelings we have today. I think that the epigraph to all our work in the next few years will be the simple but glorious word, `Victory'.

In these days of decisive battles, and in the coming years of peace, the people will demand vivid, inspiring music which will embody the heroism of the Great Patriotic War and the nobility and moral beauty of our nation---the fighter and builder. Let us hope for a sharp increase in

112 1944

the skills of our musicians, composers and performers. Today more than ever before we should sense our great responsibility for every work and for every public performance.

I cannot wait to see and hear new Soviet operas, ballets and musical comedies, worthy of a place of honour in the repertoires of our theatres. May our opera companies and talented writers get down to some hard work with our composers and produce operas of quality,

I have no doubt that the wonderful life which awaits us in the postwar years will surpass all our hopes and expectations.

The guarantee of this is the Soviet people's heroic will to create and build.^^4^^

...In his introduction Khachaturian said that Soviet music was the inheritor and successor of great Russian classical traditions. I should like to add to this that the music written during the Great Patriotic War was likewise the inheritor and successor of great traditions-those built up by Soviet music in the years before the war. Thus we have inherited both the Russian musical classics and the Soviet musical culture of the post-revolutionary era.

...The historical roots of Soviet music are buried in the great Russian musical culture of the past. I do not wish to repeat here certain arguments which I am personally beginning to find tiresome-e.g, which musical school was better: the one issuing from Chaikovsky or the one headed by Rimsky-Korsakov ? I hereby declare that both schools were of equal merit, and right up to today, 28 March 1944, have provided food for other musicians, and will continue to do so in the future. Both schools stem from the initiator of all Russian music, Glinka. We could correctly consider ourselves to be descendants of Glinka. It is our duty to develop his magnificent ideas, his wonderful music.

...There are very many arguments and discussions in our musical circles about the place of national and folk elements in music.

Russian music has always fed on folk songs and melodies, and almost all Russian classical music draws on Russian, Ukrainian and Eastern melodies.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

The rich melodic resources of the folk music of all the different nationalities of the Soviet Union have not yet been fully exploited by Soviet composers. We still do not draw enough from these rich springs, and our composers would be advised to make the greatest possible use of this remarkable heritage, which;\ continues to blossom before our very eyes.

...I should, however, add the fallowing to what I have just said: the concept of 'popular spirit in art' must not be vulgarised or impoverished by being reduced to the mere task of using musical intonations from folk life. To be 'popular in spirit' is to be intrinsically linked to the whole classical heritage of our people, right up to the highest achievements of Russian symphony and opera music.

113 1944

I would like to speak about one or two aspects of Soviet music which can be summed up in the word `indifference'. Sometimes one comes across indifferent `music-making' instead of passionate, intense, real music, adorned with exciting ideas... Such `music' can never make an impression on the listener. Indifference in any sphere of life or science is dangerous; one cannot live and work without passions, temperament, love and hate. Whenever I hear a work which is well written, but somehow indifferent, I feel offended and vexed; I have no wish to hear such music. I, like every other listener, demand that the composer should speak in a passionate, temperamental language, and that his thoughts be well thought-out and sincere. The composer's work should be born of suffering.

... Criticism within the Composers' Union is mainly exercised at our so-called 'musical conferences'. These conferences are a good beginning. At them, composers play their new works and other members listen to them and discuss them. When the performance of a work is over, the chairman says: 'Let us open the discussion'-'discussion^^1^^, but not ' criticism'. Yet it would be so much more profitable if we criticised each other.

We have one important failing in our organisation: we like neither to criticise nor to be criticised. So often we hear polite bowings and scrapings from the critic and the criticised, but very rarely do we hear a word of real criticism, which is as necessary and useful to us as the air we breathe. We sometimes forget to be self-critical, yet without self-criticism we cannot get by. Certain of our members take criticism very badly, and their over-sensitivity forces the others to restrain themselves when passing judgment on their works.

How can one take offence at criticism? To my mind this is quite absurd. One should not be offended by criticism, but-and I choose my words carefully---by false compliments, which are very distasteful and insulting to the person under discussion.

Often a composer dismisses criticism, saying that the critic has not yet fully understood his work, etc. Of course it is often difficult to understand a work completely on hearing it for the the first time, but initial comments can still be made-on whether a work shows talent or not, for example.

114 1944

Allow me to complicate things a little in an attempt to clarify my position. On the basis of my long experience as a listener, I permit myself to categorise a work as either showing talent or not showing talent. Yet I must say, this is a word I very rarely hear in our Union. It is said that a composer is making progress or developing---and that is all. As far as I can judge (and I listen to a great deal of music, both good and bad), the matter can be decided in the following way: if you hear a work and it produces absolutely no impression on you, if you are beginning to forget it on the way out of the concert hall, and have forgotten it completely by the time you arrive home, if it leaves not a single musical image in your head, then this work could be called untalented, unsuccessful or bad. If, however, a work leaves a musical impression in your memory, if it excited you to some extent, or gave you pleasure or delighted you, then despite any shortcomings it may have, you can say that it shows talent, that it is a good work. This, I think, is how we should reason.

... There is no reason for any of us to be offended when he is criticised here, because this is not antagonistic criticism. We all support the same cause, and it is important to all of us, vitally important, to create works of the highest quality.

Our country is in a very difficult position at the moment because of the war which was forced upon it, but nonetheless its composers are not being forgotten, they are looked after well; in their work they should respond to this care and attention, with which the Party, the government and the whole nation surrounds them, even in these difficult days.^^5^^

115 1945

The victorious end to the Second World War gave Shostakovich new inspiration in his work. He began his Ninth Symphony. At one point, it is true, he broke off and reviewed his original plan, but then he set off for the Ivanovo Composers' House, where he always worked well, and completed the symphony in a remarkably short time: on 5 August the first movement was finished, on 12th the second movement, on 20th the third, on 21st the fourth and on 30th the finale. Shostakovich worked with such ease that he even had time to play music for four hands with Dmitry Kabalevsky, and to chat with Sergei Prokofiev and Rheingold Glier, who were also resting at the Composers'^^1^^ House.

On 4 September Shostakovich gave a preview of the symphony at the Moscow Philharmonia ; the audience included the conductors Samuil Samosud, Alexander Gauk and Nikolai Anosov. On 10 September the composer and Svyatoslav Richter played the work to an Arts Committee audience including Khachaturian, Shaporin, Neuhaus, Goldenweiser, Samosud and Gauk. Both here and at the Composers' Union the new work was received very warmly. At the end of September Shostakovich introduced the symphony to the members of the Leningrad Philharmonic Orchestra (the second piano was played by the leader of the orchestra, V. Serdechkov). Finally, on 3 November (somewhat later than originally intended) the premiere of the Ninth Symphony was conducted in Leningrad by Tevgeny Mravinsky. On 20th he also conducted its first performance in Moscow.

Meanwhile, Shostakovich's music continued to be played all over the world---including the European capitals recently liberated from naz,i occupation. In the victorious days of May 1945, the Seventh Symphony had its Paris premiere, conducted by Charles Munch, and at the end of the year it was conducted by Rafael Kubelik in Prague. In December alone, the work was heard seven times in Prague.

The most important musical event in the country this year was the All-Union Performers' Competition, which testified to the progress made by young Soviet musicians over the war years. Shostakovich led the jury for the instrumental section and later wrote an article summing up the achievements of the competition.

The final victory over the odious enemy is nearing. In the rumble of the victory salutes you can hear the tread of history, passing merciless sentence on the fascist cur, and glorifying our people and our army.

116

reaching the Volga. When three-quarters of the European part of the USSR-hundreds of towns and thousands of villages - were in enemy hands. When the nazis were torturing and annihilating the defenceless population of the areas they occupied.

The Hitlerites wanted us to lose our heads and yield to fear and panic. But not for one moment did the Soviet people lose their faith in victory. The Germans looked in vain for even the slightest hint of fear or confusion in the eyes of the Soviet people...

We had to win, for the sake of the freedom and independence of our country, for our struggle against fascism would determine the fate of the world.

Our victory was assured long ago, even before the start of the war, when the working people took power into their own hands in the October Revolution.

Our marines the 'Black Death' of whom the Germans were so terrified-were the sons of the sailors who stormed the Winter Palace in October 1917 and fought on all the fronts in the Civil War. The Red Army men who took Perekop in 1944 were the sons and younger brothers of those who routed the Whites at Perekop in 1920. Our fighters were the children of the men who fought at Rostov and Novocherkassk, at Arkhangelsk and Khabarovsk, defending the young Soviet republic against fourteen foreign powers. All of them were the sons and daughters of the Soviet Union, brought up by the great Bolshevik Party, and it was this upbringing and this vital link with the Party and the people that ensured our victory.

The Second World War is over: like the Germans, the Japanese aggressors have now been brought to their knees. The great cause that united all the progressive people of the world in a liberation battle has triumphed.

An end Has been put to the ugly dissonance brought about by the war. Now the fingers of the musician who held a gun will once more inspire the obedient, melodious strings of a violin, and the serene melody of peace and creative work will ring out again.

A new age of classicism has com]b-an age to create intransient works which will become the dearest possession of mankind. The peaks of world art have always been connected with the struggles, victories and achievements of the people. Was not Beethoven's Ninth Symphony born of the events of 1789? And did not the feelings of national pride and popular triumph after the defeat of Napoleon inspire that mighty genius, Glinka, to write Ivan Susanin?

117 1945

Our sights are on the future, and there is no discord between our dream and reality.

Let us tell in our works about our dream, turned into reality and transforming the world!^^2^^

My Ninth Symphony is very unlike its immediate predecessors. While the Seventh and Eighth were tragic and heroic in character, the Ninth is dominated by an airy, sei'ene mood. The work consists of five short movements; allegro, moderato, presto, largo and allegretto. In Moscow the symphony will be performed by the State Symphony Orchestra under Yevgeny Mravinsky, and in Leningrad by the Leningrad Philharmonia. The first public performance will be at the end of October,^^3^^

...Sergei Prokofiev's talent continues to bloom. Recently he has composed several magnificent works: the opera War and Peace, his Second Quartet, his Seventh and Eighth Piano Sonatas and his Fifth-Symphony. One of his best works of late is Cinderella, ballet music which is delightfully melodious and lyrical.

Prokofiev characterises Cinderella and the fairy godmother chastely and with touching warmth. The theme of Cinderella's and the Prince's love is beautiful. And the figures of the wicked stepmother and her ugly, bad-tempered daughters are very successfully drawn. The dance-lesson scene, in which two violinists on stage play a simple gavotte, is a sheer brain-wave of Prokofiev's, How well conceived it is, and what a clear picture this short episode gives of the stepmother's household!

Prokofiev's music is also acutely dynamic. As the plot develops, the music grows in emotional and expressive intensity, reaching truly tragic heights. A strong impression is made by the finale of Act Two, portraying the confusion of the Prince and the guests at midnight, as Cinderella leaves the palace.

The music is symphonic: the themes are developed with supreme mastery, unfolding the full dramatic power of the ballet. As always, Prokofiev's score is nothing short of brilliant, and abounds in perfect gems.^^4^^

The All-Union Performers' Competition has ended. These Competitions for young performers have become a firm tradition here, and the

118 7945

prizes are not won easily, for the competitors include the finest performers from all over the Soviet Union.

As this year's Competition' has confirmed, our country contains a wealth of young talent. The Competition also testified to the high level of musical education in the USSR.

The Competition demonstrated the shining success of our instrumentalists and the lesser, but nonetheless considerable, achievements of our vocalists.

Our Motherland is overflowing with talent!-that was my joyous realisation as I came away from the Competition.^^5^^

119 1946

This was another full-blooded year of activity. The main achievement on the musical front was the Third Quartet, first performed on 19 December at the Moscow Conservatoire. This work was dedicated to the ensemble who first performed it--the Beethoven Quartel, which consisted of Dmitry Tsyganov (first violin), Vassily Shirinsky (second violin), Vadim Borisovsky (viola) and Sergei Shirinsky (cello). Shostakovich also tried his hand at a less familiar sphere, and wrote Puppet Dances, a cycle of piano pieces for children.

On 27 and 30 April Shostakovich took part in a Composers' Union conference on the state of musical criticism. The introductory report was made by Semyon Schlifstein, and many well-known musicians, including Shostakovich and Dmitry Kabalevsky, took part in the discussion. The conference had far-reaching repercussions, and was discussed widely in the press,

In July Shostakovich headed the team of judges at a competition of young conductors in Leningrad, and summarised its remits in an article in Pravda.

In 1946, the first Soviet monograph about Shostakovich's work, written by Ivan Martynov, was published to mark the composer's, fortieth birthday. As the author noted in his introduction, Shostakovich himself looked over the manuscript.

For his Piano Trio, Shostakovich was awarded the Stalin Prize (Second Class), And at the end of the year, when the Moscow Conservatoire was celebrating its 80th anniversary, Shostakovich, as one of its leading professors, was given the Order of Lenin.

During the war I wrote two symphonies and a number of instrumental and vocal chamber works.

It seems to me that my music to some extent records the extremely interesting, complex and tragic face of our age.

I set out to recreate in artistic form the inner life of man, deafened by the thundering hammer-blows of war. I wanted to tell of his anxieties and sufferings, about his courage and his joys. Unwittingly, all these psychological states turned out to be particularly clear and dramatic because they were always illuminated by the glow of war. Often I linked the individual's fate with that of the masses, and they strode together, seized by fury, pain or triumph.

I found it very tempting to portray a person in love with life and freedom, and therefore, in Shakespeare's words, rising courageously against a sea of troubles.

This person, the hero of my music, arrives at victory through trials and catastrophes. He falls many times and rises again. His strength of will and his noble aim inspire him for the struggle and ultimate victory. His

120 1946

path, of course, is not strewn with roses, and there are no merry drummers to accompany him.

The optimistic finales of my works are by no means the result of some wilfulness on my part, but arise naturally from the whole artistic context of the works. They also correspond both to the objective logic of events and to my perception of the course of history, which must inevitably lead to the downfall of tyranny and evil and to the triumph of liberty and humanity.

The war turned the whole world upside down. It stretched the physical and mental endurance of all progressive people to the limit. Consequently, musicians not wishing to remove themselves from reality cannot merely play around with sounds; they must, in my view, strive to fill their works with the maximum emotion and passion, and with the spirit of true humanism.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

I am also striving towards this end, but it is not for me to judge how well I have succeeded.

Objectivity and impartiality are marvellous things. But the trouble is that the simplest way to sain a reputation for impatiality is by indiscriminately singing the praises of everything- within earshot. Not only critics are guilty of this. Are the discussions of new works which take place at meetings of the Composers' Union Consultative Commission really so fundamental, penetrating or profound? Can it really be said that a furious battle of opinions rages here, or that two or three schools of thought cross swords at our meetings? While criticising the critics, then, we must also take a good look at ourselves. And we, like the critics, must build our judgments on all our experience and on our passionate love for Soviet music. It is essential to have one's own opinion. Partiality is vital for critics, performers and composers alike. I believe that partiality was one of Ivan Sollertinsky's strongest points, closely linked to his strength of conviction.

That is the most important thing. But there are other points to be made. Musical criticism attracts very few new faces, and the talented young students at the Conservatoire are not used at all. It has become customary to commission articles on music from composers of some standing. But this policy is wrong: there are few composers who are endowed with literary talent. For every brilliant writer on musical matters, such as Serov or Chaikovsky, there is a multitude of composers who lack this gift. The basis of musical criticism lies'i^^1^^., with the professional critics, whose numbers must be increased. ThereVis no lack of work for them. New opera houses and conservatoires are. being opened, new composers are emerging, and the older generation of composers continues to produce astounding works-Sergei Prokofiev, for example, has developed remarkably over the past few years. All this ought to be reflected in the musical press.^^2^^

121 1946

For the second time the Victory bells are ringing out over the peaceful Earth. The Soviet people have recommenced their peaceful constructive work, setting themselves the task of flexing all the muscle in the country and fulfilling the new five-year plan.

The most precious qualities of the Soviet artist are modesty and an exacting attitude towards himself. On this Victory Day, it is therefore appropriate, indeed essential, for the Soviet artist to cast a critical glance over the achievements of the past year. Soviet music is going through a healthy period: the artistic level of works composed over the year has risen considerably. We have good reason to say that our symphonic and instrumental chamber music is thriving.

Looking at Soviet music, and the other arts, from the point of view of the tasks facing the Soviet people, however, we are bound to feel a certain uneasiness. Some of our composers are insufficiently sensitive to present-day affairs.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

The last thing I would do would be to dispute the rights of our composers to treat historical subjects-but only given the essential condition that the present should have priority in their works.^^3^^

The Young Conductors Competition, which has just ended in Leningrad, has roused a good deal of public interest.

Most of the participants showed a fairly high level of understanding and decent technique, but not all of them properly understood the style and character of the works they performed, and not all, of course, displayed a real ability to work with an orchestra.

The competition highlighted several gifted conductors, and it is now up to the Arts Committee to take proper care of their futures. Above all, the most capable young conductors must be given decent work. Conductors living in the provinces must be given the chance of spending at least two months a year in Leningrad and Moscow, in order to listen to firstclass orchestras and learn from the experts. The quality of our symphony orchestras must be improved, and something should also be done about the production of high-quality musical instruments.^^4^^

122 1947

At a local pre-election meeting of workers' representatives which took place at the beginning of January, the Leningrad Composers' Union nominated Dmitry Shostakovich as a candidate for election to the Supreme Soviet of the Russian Federation, and on 9 February the composer was duly elected to the Soviet, the highest legislative body of the Republic. Meanwhile, on 6 February, he was also elected Chairman of the Leningrad Composers' Union, All this testifies to the fact that although Shostakovich was now living in Moscow, his ties with the people and musicians of his native city were unbroken. He also kept up contacts with the Leningrad Conservatoire, where he supervised the studies of Galina Ustvolskajia, both as an undergraduate and as a post-graduate.

In May Shostakovich was a guest at the Prague Spring Festival, which featured his music widely. Two of the highlights of the Festival were the performance of his Eighth Symphony by the Czech Philharmonic, conducted by Yevgeny Mravinsky, and the composer's own performance of his Piano Trio, together with David Oistrakh and the Czech cellist MHO'S Sadlo (their performance was released on a gramophone record). While in Prague, Shostakovich also took part in an International Congress of Composers, Critics and Music Scholars, reading a report on Soviet music.

In the autumn and winter Shostakovich gave several performances with the Glazunov Quartet in Leningrad. On 10 September he took part in a concert of his music (which included his Piano Quintet and Third Quartet) in the Conference Hall of the Academy of Sciences, and in December his Quintet and Second Piano Sonata were played in the Small Hall of the Conservatoire.

Duenia is probably one of Prokofiev's brightest and most joyful works: the whole opera breathes the freshness and youthfulness of spring and is devoid of any inner contradiction whatsoever. All its components form a perfect whole, and the work is bubbling with humour and laughterexpansive, good-natured, mischievous laughter. Listening to Duenia, one is reminded of Verdi's Falstaff, which exhibits the same emotional immediacy, enriched by the wisdom of a great master.

The orchestral score for the opera abounds in colours and agile virtuosity. It provides an excellent commentary to the action, adding to the comicality of the situation and deepening the characterisation. Also very interesting are the vocal parts, which are expressive and to the point.

The whole opera is written in one breath, and this makes it very difficult to single out individual points of excellence. I was particularly impressed, however, by the marvellous finale of the first scene, the quartet, the serenade, the music-making scene, the market-women's chorus, the monk's chorus, and the opera's splendid, gay finale, with goblets clinking.'

123 1947

The International Prague Music Festival, which took place in the splendid concert hall of the Rudolfinum Palace and in the Smetana Hall, was attended by composers, performers and critics from the USSR, America, France, Poland, Britain, Bulgaria, China, Palestine, India...

The programme of the festival, which lasted about three weeks and excellently organised, included many interesting classical and contemporary works, played by outstanding performers.

The programme was so extensive, indeed, that it proved difficult to attend every performance. There were concerts every day, often twice a day. Chamber concerts began at five o'clock, followed at eight-almost without an interval-by symphony concerts. But much of what we did hear impressed us greatly.

^ This is true, above all, of the works of the outstanding Czech composer, JanJ^ek. This composer, who died recently at a venerable age, is rightly considered a classic of Czech music. We heard his great opera Katya Kabanova (based on Ostrovsky's play The Storm) brilliantly performed by the orchestra and soloists of the Czech National Theatre, conducted by Vaclav Talich. Although it does not entirely convey the depth of Ostrovsky's play, the opera is marked by enormous realistic power and artistic persuasiveness, reminiscent of the operatic traditions .of Mussorgsky.

Two of the Festival's most interesting performances were given by the Frenchman Charles Munch, conducting Arthur Honegger's new symphony (written in 1943), and by the Swiss Ernest Ansermet, conducting Stravinsky's Third Symphony. Honegger's symphony is notable for its striving towards great depth of thought and emotion. The same tendencies can be seen, I think, in Stravinsky's new symphony, in which his typically brilliant orchestration is accompanied by simpler, pithier musical language and more profound emotions.

The concerts given by the Soviet delegation in Prague were played to packed halls, the tickets having been sold out well in advance. Particularly astounding success was enjoyed by our violinist David Oistrakh. It has to be admitted that he really was in brilliant form and plaved immaculately at each of his concerts. The Prague audience was impatient to see Yevgeny Mravinsky again, whom it remembered from the previous year's festival. This time round, his concerts were even more successful.

An International Congress of Composers, Critics and Music Scholars---to which I delivered a report about Soviet music-was held concurrently with the concert programme.^^2^^

124

In this work (the Festival Overture) I want to convey the moods of a man who has gone through the harrowing ordeals of the war years and conquered his country's enemies, and is now reconstructing his native land. I want to embody in musical form the enthusiasm of men working peacefully under the new five-year plan. There are no sharp dramatic conflicts in the Overture. Its themes are melodious, its orchestration varied. I shall offer my new work for the approval of the exacting Leningrad audience during the celebrations of the October Revolution.^^3^^

In my Poem About the Motherland I made use of several well-known old i revolutionary and modern Soviet songs. They include the popular revoluj tionary song Step Out, Comrades, Together, the song O'er Hilts and Vales, I recorded many years ago by Professor Alexandrov, his own composition / The Sacred War, my Song of the Counter Plan and Dunayevsky's Song About the Motherland. These songs awaken feelings and images close to the heart of every Soviet person. The fundamental thing that unites all these images is the fervent and selfless love of the Soviet people for their country, their unflinching readiness to give their lives for their Motherland.^^4^^

The whole of the Soviet Union is animatedly discussing the historic decision of the government and Party to carry out a monetary reform and do away with ration cards.

The more vigorously and conscientiously every Soviet person continues to work in the future, the happier and more care-free life in our country will become. And the guarantee of this is the tireless support and concern of our government and Communist Party.^^5^^

125 1948

In the middle of January the Central Committee of the Communist Party held a music conference in which several dozen composers, performers, music critics and musicologists took part. The conference discussed the state and development of Soviet music, the starting-point for the discussion being the sharp criticism received by Vano Muradelfs opera A Great Friendship after its first public performance. Several of the speakers at the conference subjected eminent composers to unjustifiably harsh criticism, accusing them of formalism. Among those who spoke was Shostakovich, whose own work had been criticised.

j3n_J(LEeMniary_-the__Party ^enJral_C^mmittee_ adopte_d_Q .resolution---O.n.y~-Mu^__ radeWs Opera A Great Friendship'. As well as setting out some correct basic principles, the resolution containecTsome 'unfair and inexcusably harsh appraisals of the work of several major composers, including Shostakovich,^ ThesejrroMQJ'^ juti gments, which were the result of the conditions surrounding Stalin's personality cult and of his subjective views in the sphere of art, were rectified by a resolution of the ^Party's Central Committee on 28 May 1958). The February resolution was widely discussed in musical circles and in the press. The debate about the state and prospects of Soviet music was continued at the end of February at a conference in the Central Composers' Club, and in April at the First All-Union Congress of Composers. On both occasions several speakers accused Shostakovich of modernism and formalism, but there were also some who tried to defend the composer and his work from unfounded criticism. Shostakovich himself made a speech, in which, as always, he strove to derive benefit from any well-meant criticism, while at the same time renouncing none of his compositions. This attitude also left its mark on his creative work in the years to come.

Much of Shostakovich''s work at this time was for the cinema. He began writing the music for the film Meeting on the Elbe and compiled a concert suite from it. October saw the release of the two-part film The Young Guard, for which Shostakovich had greatly enjoyed writing the music. He continued working on his Violin Concerto, completed the vocal cycle From Jewish Folk Poetry, and developed plans for new vocal-symphonic works. In September Shostakovich resigned from his post as Professor at the Conservatoire.

----^-jjS In 1948 the composer was awarded the title of People's Artist of the Russian w | Federation. J^ \

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

j{ I have been working as a teacher for ten years now. Over this period my pupils have included such wonderful composers as G_e^rj*i_Syindov, Yury Levitin, Kara_JKarayev, Djevdet Gadzhiyev, Revo! Bunin,' V. Fleischman, who diedforTus country, and Orest Yevlakhov. I had the good fortune of presiding over the development of these talented young composers. My present class in composition at the Moscow Conservatoire also includes several talented young students who will undoubtedly make a name for themselves in the future. I am thinking paticularly of German Galynin, who has progressed by leaps and bounds over the last two years. His music has grown in stature, it has become pithier and more profound. Technically, too, he has improved. His works bubble with restless, inquisitive thoughts-especially his string quartet.

126 1948

Galynin's string quartet is a work of considerable maturity. The main thing that strikes one when listening to it is its tremendous melodiousness and meaningfulness...

It has been thrilling to observe the growth of this composer, and thrilling to think of the inexhaustible wealth of talent there is in our great people. Of course, Galynin is far from having reached his peak. His work still has many faults, which we discuss at our meetings, but his serious attitude to his work and his belief in the composer's noble mission make me confident that Galynin will not squander his great talent but will persevere and go on to attain even greater heights.^^1^^

I hold that the composer, as one of the most important figures in the musical world, should be offended not by the criticism which he may receive, but by the absence of criticism, because criticism can help him to advance and overcome his shortcomings, whereas the lack of criticism at best does not help him and, in all probability, even hampers his development.

The composer himself, the creator of a work, must think very carefully about what it is that flows from his pen. And perhaps, before publishing or performing his work, he should ask himself whether he has the right to do so, whether he has worked enough on this composition, and whether he has done everything within his power, talent and abilities to ensure that his composition is worthy of public performance. I feel that the development of our musical culture is further hindered by the specialisation of many composers in only one, favourite genre. One composer, for example, specialises in writing symphonies, another in chamber works, a third in operas, yet another in song-writing, and so on. Surely the composer ought to be able to turn his hand to everything, and should beware of restricting himself to one genre...

127 1949

From now on Dmitry Shostakovich was one of the most active members of the world peace movement. He was elected to the Soviet Peace Committee, participated in congresses and meetings, made impassioned speeches and wrote revealing articles against the war-mongering enemies of mankind. _As a member of the Soviet delegation, the composer attended the American Cultural and Scientific Conference for World Peace, held in New York on 25-27 March. On the last day of the Conference he addressed a meeting of the music, poetry, painting and choreography section. When the Soviet delegation appeared at the hall in Madison Square Gardens for the closing session of the Conference, they were greeted by the sounds of Shostakovich's Song of the Counter Plan. At the same session, the composer played the scherzo from his Fifth Symphony on piano.

This year the composer wrote his first full-length oratorio. After a chance encounter with the poet Yevgeny Dolmatovsky on a train travelling from Leningrad to Moscow, he conceived the idea of composing a work, with words by Dolmatovsky, on the theme of the transformation of nature by man. In the summer he received the completed text from the poet, and in a very short time, during a stay at Komarovo (near Leningrad), he composed the oratorio entitled The Song of the Woods. The work was first performed on 15 November in the Leningrad Philharmonia, conducted by Yevgeny Mravmsky.

Earlier in the year the composer had taken a holiday in Sochi, where he met local Young Pioneers and played his music for them. In October he went to Yerevan and listened to works by young composers at the Conservatoire there.

Apart from the oratorio, Shostakovich wrote his First Ballet Suite and music for a film Michurin this year. He also worked on his Fourth Quartet.

We have come together from all parts of the world to combine our efforts in the fight against the instigators of a new war, which would thjreaten the people of the world with countless disasters, a war which would threaten culture, civilisation, science and art-all the achievements of human thought and creation. We must raise our voices in defence of peace, for it is clear to us all that the struggle for peace is the struggle for progress, for constructive work, for democracy and for the future of the world.

Are we not aware of the countless facts which testify to the direct preparation for war, and to the encouragement of those dark forces and brute instincts which facilitate the preparation for war? It would be a crime against our conscience, against mankind, against our contemporaries and descendants, were we not to make use of the forces and possibilities at our disposal for the exposure of the propagandists of militarism and misanthropy, and for keeping the war-mongers in check.

Our role, as intellectuals---writers, artists and musicians---is exceptionally important. We must shout at the top of our voices for the cause of peace, truth, humanity and the future of nations. At this decisive stage

128

1949 '

in history we must not stand at the side and amuse ourselves with empty illusions, as if we were placed above life, above the melee. No, we must be in the very thick of life, so that we can influence its course. We must keep up with the progressive forces of mankind, at the front line in the fight for peace. We should participate in this struggle through our artthrough its content, ideas, imagery and clarity of purpose.

The basic tactic of the enemies of peaceful co-existence is to disunite us by all possible means, and to sow distrust and suspicion among us. This age-old tactic must be vigorously opposed by our determination to unite all the progressive artists of the world, in order to defend peace and democracy together and to crush the proponents of war.

A bitter, uncompromising struggle is being waged in the arts, including music, between two artistic points of view. One of them-realism-is the result of a harmonious, truthful, optimistic vision of the world. It is a progressive world-view, which enriches the world with cultural treasures. The other is formalism, by which we mean art that is devoid of love for the people, anti-democratic art in which form overrules content, art which results from a pathologically disturbed, pessimistic perception of reality and from a lack of faith in the powers and ideals of man. This reactionary and nihilistic world-view is leading to the ruin and degeneration of music as an aesthetic category of beauty.

We appeal to the progressive musicians of the world to take up realism as the basis of genuine, valuable, democratic art, capable of reinstating art as creative work which is aesthetically valuable, socially useful, truthful and noble.

Let us extend our friendship-the friendship of progressive figures in the world of culture. United, we are invincible. We shall be able to fulfil our civic duty and raise the consciousness of the people against war and barbarity. We must force the instigators of war to retreat and disarm. They will never win the hearts of the people.

We must join the beautiful and mighty voice of our art to the courageous voices of the people-for peace and democracy! '

Frederic Chopin is one of the most popular composers in our country. It can confidently be said that he is dear and close to everyone in the world, to all who aspire to truth and peace.

129 1949

and exclaimed: 'Oh, my Motherland!' The idea embodied in his melody was concrete and tangible for him.

Chopin knew what he wanted to say in every phrase of music. This composer, whose music is so perfect that it seems to have been created in a single moment, in an unshackled burst of inspiration, in fact worked carefully, laboriously and persistently. His manuscripts testify to the inspiration of a genius, but also to the industry of a genius. In this sense, the sensitive and strict genius of Chopin was akin to the lavish, exacting genius of Pushkin. Chopin's powerful, free, lyrical music enters the open heart much in the way that Pushkin's poetry does.^^2^^

Good things often become habitual, and great things are taken for granted. We have grown so accustomed to the Maly Theatre that we sometimes forget just what an enormous pleasure it is to watch a performance there, to spend a vivid, memorable evening in its resplendent and comfortable hall-the selfsame hall where Mochalov and Shchepkin performed, where Belinsky and Herzen sat in the audience, and where the finest plays of the great Russian theatrical repertoire-plays by Griboyedov, Gogol, Ostrovsky and others-began their eternal stage life.

I have long been an admirer of the Maly Theatre and love to sit in its hall, I marvel at the brilliance of its actors, continuing in the Maly's magnificent traditions, inherited from the founders of the Russian realist school of stage art. But above all we spectators are grateful to the Maly Theatre for having placed these great traditions at the service of the present day.

It is precisely because the Theatre's healthy traditions have been developed and given new content that the Maly to this day plays a very important, progressive role in Soviet art. The Theatre remains a powerful stronghold and leading centre of realism.

How can this be explained? How can one explain the youthfulness of this theatre, which still today is remarkably fresh and vibrant, and which brings about stage productions of astounding truth? The life force of the Maly Theatre, its realism and unfading youthfulness, result from its unbreakable ties with the people, with their hopes and aspirations, and with the nation's triumphant development.^^3^^

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

The Great October Socialist Revolution forced artists to look afresh at their work and renounce many outdated conceptions. Recognising the creation of cultural affluence as one of the main aims of socialism, the Bolshevik Party called upon artists to draw on the interests of the people and increase their cultural wealth. Thus were created the preconditions necessary for the artist to become the bearer of the greatest ideas of modern times.^^4^^

130

The beginning of the fifties was marked by a considerable increase in the number of public concerts given by Shostakovich. In January 1950, he gave two performances of his Piano Quintet (with- the Moscow Philharmonic Quartet and the Beethoven Quartet) at the Leningrad Philharmonia, and later gave concerts in the Soviet Baltic Republics.

In July the composer was in Leipzig as head of the Soviet delegation to (he Bach bicentenary celebrations. The programme for the last night of the Festival included Bach's Concerto for Three Pianos and Orchestra, which was performed by Tatiana Nikolayeva, Pavel Serebryakov and Shostakovich (who stepped in at the last minute for Maria Tudina, who had injured a finger).

It was in Leipzig} too, that Shostakovich conceived the idea of writing a cycle of piano preludes and fugues, on which he began work soon after returning home.

Still an active member of the Soviet Peace Committee, Shostakovich addressed delegates of the Permanent Committee of the World Peace Congress at a meeting on 7 March. He himself was a delegate both to the All-Union Peace Conference which opened on 16 October, and to the Second World Peace Congress, held in Warsaw in November, In Warsaw he worked with the commission dealing with economic and cultural ties, and read the commission's proposals to a plenary session of the Conference.

At the beginning of the year, on 21 January, a new film with Shostakovich's music was premiered---The Fall of Berlin, }\For this work, and for the oraton The Song of the Woods, he was awarded the Stalin Prize (First Class)

The last days of 1949 have run out, and the New Year is upon us. Looking back, it is difficult to grasp the whole significance of the last decades in the history of man and the world. In the course of one generation, momentous, historic events have taken place which have turned over a bright new page in the history of nations.

We Soviet people are happy people, for we live in the land of socialism, to which are turned the eyes of the world's working people, who see the USSR as a bastion of peace and democracy, as a model of the just and wise resolution of all the most flagrant contradictions in modern society.

An eloquent reminder of this was the recent plenary session of the Soviet Composers' Union, which drew the attention of the whole country

and evoked countless responses from all sections of the population.,.^^1^^

\

*:•

The struggle for peace is the struggle for progress, for man's prosperity and happiness. The true servant of the arts-whether he is a sculptor or poet, a composer or singer - cannot stand aloof from the struggle for

131

(From left to rig/it, in the foreground) Kozlovsky, Samosud, Shostakovich and Nebolsin after the premiere of the Seventh Symphony in Kuibyshev (1942)

132 1950

l'/peace. Art becomes art only when it fights against reactionary, fascist //| ideas, only when it puts forward progressive ideas such as friendship - //I between peoples, collaboration and philanthropy. The works of the great/1| est artists of all ages and peoples are suffused with humanism... None of the progressive cultural figures of world stand aloof from the struggle for peace. The Union of Czechoslovak Composers recently addressed the following message to the musicians of the world: 'Let us glorify the new world of joy and happiness... We appeal to composers and musicians everywhere to join us as we declare: We do not want war! Long live peace! For without peace there can be no happiness, no progress, and no development of art and culture.' It is our sacred duty as cultural workers to promote friendship and understanding through our art, and to win supporters in the struggle for peace. United we are invincible!^^2^^

In what way is Bach dear to Soviet composers and musicians? What is there in the great German composer's music that attracts us? Above all, there is the fact that he derived his inspiration from the everlasting spring of folk music: in his instrumental and vocal works one can always feel a powerful Jink with the German folk song. Johann Sebastian Bach was a great master of polyphony-his works are marked by exceptional melodic wealth and perfect polyphony.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

What I love about Bach is his depth of thought, his humanity and the sincerity of his multifaceted work. All his works are very dear to me, as they are to every Soviet composer and musician.

Recently I attended a performance of Bach's B-Minor Mass at the Leningrad State Philharmonia, and I witnessed the rapturous ovation given this magnificent work by the capacity house...^^3^^

I am presently working on the last stages of the music for the film Belinsky. The picture is being made at the Lenfilm studios, directed by Kozintsev, with the scenario written by Kozintsev, German and Serebrovskaya... I have made wide use of Russian folk songs and folk melodies, including some which first emerged in the 1840s, during Belinsky's lifetime.

The well-known collector of Russian folk songs Feodosy Rubtsov works in Leningrad, and I found much of the necessary material in his rich collection, which includes many little^known songs, some recorded only recently in various parts of the country. These folk songs and melodies, reworked to suit my purpose, will form an integral part of the fabric of the film music.

After the music for Belinsky, I shall start writing another work, for which I have already made some rough drafts. This will be an oratorio on the theme of the Soviet people's struggle for peace, on the invincibility of

133 1950

the peace-loving camp, and on the determination of the people of all countries to curb imperialist aggression and incitement to war. The oratorio will be written in collaboration with the poet Yevgeny Dolmatovsky, who wrote the words for my earlier oratorio, The Song of the Woods*

Inspired by the resolution of the government and Party on the grand plan to transform nature, I wrote The Song of the Woods, Very recently the Soviet government passed a number of historic resolutions on the construction of the Kuibyshev, Stalingrad and Kakhovka hydroelectric power stations and of canals in Turkmenistan, the Southern Ukraine and Northern Crimea. In a state of great emotion, I am settling down to work. This year I hope to write a new work together with the poet Yevgeny Dolmatovsky, in which we wish to glorify the joyful peaceful labour of the Soviet people,,.

On 16 October, the Second All-Union Peace Conference will open in Moscow. -The delegates to the conference will include artists, writers and musicians, who will not only speak up for peace in the world, but will also demonstrate their unbending desire to dedicate all their creative powers to the cause of defending peace, freedom and democracy in all parts of the world.^^5^^

My second attempt came about a year after the first -when I wrote the music for the sound picture (but not yet a `talking' picture) Alone. It has to be admitted that Alone was not a real sound film. And not because the sound-track only had music, and no human voices, but simply because the film was in the old silent style. The ways and means of combining sound and image in a proper artistic fashion were only just being searched for in those days.

Many years have passed since then, and almost every year I have been engaged in work for the cinema. I have always enjoyed this kind of work. Life has shown that the Soviet cinema has developed principle's of combining the elements of sight and sound with maximum expression and realism. But the search for the perfect combination goes on, and the possibilities seem limitless, as ought to be the case in real art. My own

134 1950

experience has convinced me that cinema work opens up vast possibilities for the composer and can be of invaluable benefit to him.

There have been several turning-points in my 'cinema life'. In 1931 I wrote the music for two films: .Golden Mountains and The Counter Plan. These were now real Soviet sound films (I stress the word `Soviet' because of their themes and ideological direction), and therefore I consider my work on them "important for myself. I was lucky: many people at that time still looked upon music as an `illustration' or accompaniment - to the picture, but the directors of these films, Friedrich Ermler and Sergei Yutkevich, proved to be musically minded and clearly understood the extent of the role which should be apportioned to music in the sound jjcinema. The work went well. The song from The Counter Plan was the A lifirst of many Soviet film songs to be taken up by the people and sung by ^them. Now this first swallow has migrated far away: across the Atlantic it has become the anthem of progressive people, and in Switzerland, for example, it is now a wedding song. Finally, the tune has lost its author, and that is something of which its author can be proud.

j

The successful collaboration of director Ivan Pyriev and composer Tikhon Khrennikov has given us not only films which are loved and highly

J| rated by the people, but also songs which they sing. Most of the tunes ' | written by Isaak Dunayevsky won the hearts of the masses.

...The cinema is also an excellent school for the composer. In my first years of composing film music, for example, I had to devote a great deal of work to the problem of timing. To fit music into a strictly limited time-framework is not merely a technical problem, although it may appear so at first sight. Just as in literature it is considerably more difficult to write briefly, so the composer, too, requires more skill and effort to express his thoughts in a laconic form. Composers can learn a great deal, in this sense, from working in the cinema: they acquire greater inner discipline, which can have a beneficial effect on their musical language.

This certainly happens with composers who take their work on a film seriously. Of course, it is sometimes the case that the music pours forth right through the picture and when -the film ends the audience can remember nothing-not a single musical image or melody. That kind of writing for the cinema may, of course, be simpler, and the problem of timing may not even arise. But if one sets oneself not merely illustrative,

135 1950

but real creative tasks, then the complexity of the work increases. Personally, it was some time before I began to cope with the requirements of the cinema.

The turning point, after which I found it easier to `fit' my music to the pictures, did not come until I was working on the Maxim trilogy and on A Great Citizen. Only then did I fully realise the usefulness of what the cinema required: maximum expressiveness and minimum diffuseness.

If I were asked for my opinion on how best to write for the cinema, I should paraphrase Maxim Gorky's answer to the question: how should one write for children? His answer was 'The same way as for adults, only better!' The composer should write for the cinema just as he does when he is working on his major independent works-only even more scrupulously, even better.

The most important film music I have written in recent years has been for the films Pirogov, Michurin, The Young Guard and Meeting on the Elbe. The last two, indeed, have been in some ways landmarks in my career.

I embarked on the music for The Young Guard with great trepidation, redoubled by the fact that I had been intending to write an opera about the Young Guards. The composer Gavriil Popov expanded his music for the film She Defends Her Motherland into his wonderful Second ' Motherland^ Symphony. In my case, the opposite happened: all my creative drive was directed away from the opera into the picture. I do not regret this in the least, and have not discarded the idea of using what I have written for a symphonic work about the Young Guard, Working for the cinema cannot impoverish a plan for a work; more often it enriches jt and provides the impulse to expand and develop it.

Another welcome aspect of working in the cinema is the chance to meet our famous film-directors. I am greatly indebted to them. Our joint ventures did not always run smoothly-Gerasimov and I, for example, often argued, but our arguments were fruitful. They were the result of our common determination to find the best ways of expressing the patriotic ideas of the heroic Young Gjuards.

>

The nobility of the subject-matter elevated our work, and I shall always remember it.

Writing the music for the film Encounter on the Elbe was also a responsible task for me. The themes I had to, treat in the music were weighty ones: the victory of the Soviet Union, the tragedy of the German people and the construction of a new, democratic Germany with the friendly, sensitive aid of our country. The spectrum to be covered by the mi)sic ranged from these extensive themes to individual episodes and characters: such work requires great shrewdness andi versatility. The film was a good example of something I mentioned earlier-that for the composer the cinema is not only an artistic school, but often also a political seminar.^^6^^

136 1951

On 18 February Shostakovich was again elected to the Supreme Soviet of the Russian Federation as deputy for the Dzerzhinsky constituency in Leningrad. Then, as always, he treated his duties as deputy with a sense of great responsibility.

In the summer, as usual, the composer rested and wrote music at Komarovo. This year he set another four poems by Yevgeny Dolmatovsky to music, wrote his Second Ballet Suite, and continued to work on the cycle of piano preludes and fugues, four of which he himself performed for the first time on 18 November at the Leningrad Philharmonia, At the same concert he played his Trio with Dmitry Tsyganov and Sergei Shirinsky. Earlier, in the spring, he had made a concert tour of Byelorussia and the Baltic republics, appearing with the Beethoven Quartet in Minsk, Vilnius, Kaunas and Riga.

r

True culture always serves peace, and, consequently, knowledge and

understanding of the culture of other peoples reduces the danger of war and raises the chances of peace. The defence of culture consists not in isolating it and closing the frontier around it and its true ally, truth, but in opening the doors to it. As soon as the culture of one nation crosses the frontier of another, it immediately makes new friends-not necessarily like-minded friends, but friends who can disagree and at the same time never imagine that these disagreements could be settled by force of arms.^^1^^

On 19 March, in the Grand Hall of the Moscow Conservatoire, a concert was given by the Russian Song Choir and the Boys' Choir of the Moscow Choral school. The programme of the concert, conducted by Alexander Sveshnikov, consisted of works by Johann Sebastian Bach. The current concert season has included many works by Bach, in commemoration of the bicentenary of the great composer's death. In the summer of last year I had the good fortune to attend the Bach Festival in Leipzig, where many of his works were performed by the top musicians of the German Democratic Republic. I must confess, however, that the performances there were not always of the highest quality-especially those of Bach's choral works. At the recent concept in the Grand Hall of the Conservatoire, I could not help remembering our stay in Leipzig. What heights were attained by the Soviet choir, how profoundly they interpreted Bach's great legacy, and what technical brilliance they showed in performance!

137 7957

...Bach's bicentenary has been well celebrated in the Soviet Union. I should like to see a bigger space in our concert programmes given over to his works-and not only during his anniversary celebrations, but all the time.^^2^^

Two divergent points of view have emerged in the debates in the press about programme music: some consider a work to be programme music only if it is prefaced by the composer's remarks or has a concrete descriptive title; others have a wider view of the concept of the `programme' as the inner idea of a work, as its content revealed in corresponding musical images.

Personally I equate programme with content. Music cannot be valuable, full-blooded or beautiful without a certain idea-content (I mean music, not a dilettante, formalist collection of sounds). But the content of music need not be a story or plot: it can be a generalised idea or network of ideas. And even the richest `story', expressed in words but not adequately embodied in musical forms, makes for uninteresting music.

The composer of a symphony, quartet or sonata may not announce its programme, but he is obliged to have one as the conceptional basis of the work. It is, I feel, a very false method whereby the composer first composes the music and then interprets it with the help of the critics. In my case, as with many other composers of instrumental works, the programme always precedes the composition of the music. When writing my First String Quartet, for example, I was aiming to convey images of childhood, and rather naive, airy, springlike moods. My Fifth Symphony also had a programme, of which I have already spoken at length elsewhere. The programme of my Seventh Symphony was more concrete, almost a `plot': at first I even intended to give each movement an appropriate title (1: `War'; 2: `Recollection'; 3: 'The Expanses of My Native Land'; 4: `Victory'). The absence of these sub-titles did not, however, prevent many listeners from working out my programme - with considerable accuracy-on their own, especially in the first movement. But it would be quite wrong for the composer to stop indicating his programme /I altogether, leaving his own conception of a work in. the form of a 'secret i a code*. This has been a common fault among many of our composers, who jjl prefer 'pure forms' of instrumental music. And yet Glinka, Rimsky-Kor'{•' sakov, Chaikovsky, Lizst, Berlioz and many of the other classics were not shy of writing works with concrete programmes and realistic imagery.

138 1951

It used to be said that the muses lived up in the heavens, whence they inspired their servants... I believe that this is now an anachronism. The muses live, and want to live, here on Earth. They are made for man, and man does not want them to abandon him.

I do not know a single genuine artist in the modern world who could stand on the sidelines of the struggle for life and peace on Earth, and whose heart does not shudder at the dreadful thought of another war, I know no such artist, for true creation, which serves man, is always intrinsically linked to the cause of peace, life and hatred of war and destruction.*

Moscow constantly leads the way in the struggle for peace, in the campaign against the foes of mankind and the instigators of war. Muscovites are always in the first ranks of the fighters for peace. I remember being asked by a journalist in New York why I, a musician, a representative, that is, of a peaceful profession, should have joined up with the most active protagonists of the peace movement?

'I am not only a musician/ I replied, 'but also a Muscovite and a Soviet citizen. I should prefer, of course, to speak to people through my music, through the piano or orchestra. I should like my art to help people to live more easily, to work more happily and to love more deeply. The vocabulary of music does not include the word ``war'', and so my conscience bids me speak not only in notes but also in words. That is why I have torn myself away from my unfinished manuscript and come here, where I must speak about pea^e...'^^5^^

My Ten Choral Poems are united by a single theme-the 1905 revolution. I do not know how well I succeeded in conveying the spirit of the

139 1951

age. But the music was bound to reflect the huge impression which Russian revolutionary songs have always made on me.

The Poems are really my first experience in the sphere of music for unaccompanied choir, not counting some short choral episodes written for various films. I am fascinated by choral music and intend to write more in the future.

The new composition will be first performed by the Russian Song Choir. I personally have profited greately from the concentrated, detailed work done on each poem by this magnificent choir and its leader, Professor Sveshnikov.^^6^^

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

The common people abroad, united in the struggle for peace, look

. hopefully towards the Soviet Union and Soviet culture as the standard-

'.' bearer of truth and progressive social ideals. During my trips to the USA,

j Iceland, Germany, and Sweden, I have seen copious evidence of interest

in Soviet culture.

Who, if not Soviet scientists, writers, artists and musicians, is to give an example of how civilians can further the cause of peace? Who, if not they, can turn the whole force of scientific and artistic thought against the reaction that threatens the world? Let every page in our books, every aria and song, every technological achievement, boost the power of the Soviet people and the might of our socialist motherland, and serve as encouragement and support to our millions of peace-loving friends throughout the world.

Today, the Third All-Union Peace Conference begins its work. More than a thousand delegates will congregate in the Columned Hall of the Trade Union House to promote the cause of the strengthening the popular peace movement,..^^7^^

The Soviet artist creates work about the peaceful labour of the nation because he knows that the whole nation wants him to. I know this from my own experience. Ordinary Soviet people-workers, collective farmers, teachers, doctors-send me many letters with the words of songs about the peaceful work of the Soviet people. This reflects the interest shown by the masses in the work of their artists.^^8^^

140 1952

In the first half of the year Shostakovich was busy with concerts. A concert tour of the Transcaucasian republics from 1-12 March took him to Baku,, Yerevan and Tbilisi. The programmes of these concerts included his Piano Quintet and Trio, his First Quartet and six preludes and fugues. His partners were the members of the Komitas Quartet. On 24 April, in a joint concert with David Oistrakh and Sergei Kmshevitsky, Shostakovich performed his Trio, his Cello and Piano Sonata and four preludes and fugues. The same performers repeated the concert at the Moscow Conservatoire on 3 May and in the Columned Hall of the Kiev Philharmonia on 24May.

In March-April Shostakovich visited Berlin, Leipzig and Dresden during the Beethoven Festival in the GDR.

In the summer the composer had a working holiday outside Leningrad, and in November he attended a meeting of the Georgian Composers' Union in Tbilisi and heard new works by young composers from the republic. In December he took part in the work of the Vienna Peace Congress.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

^ Works composed this year included the Third Ballet Suite and Four Monologues for Bass and Piano, written to poems by Pushkin. On 6 November in the Moscow Conservatoire, the USSR State Symphony Orchestra, the Russian Song Choir and a Boys' Choir under Konstantin Ivanov gave the first performance of the cantata The Sun Shines Over Our Motherland, with words by Yevgeny Dolmatovsky. And at the end of the year (23 and 28 December) Tatiana Nikolayeva gave the premiere of the complete cycle of 24 Preludes and Fugues at the Leningrad Philharmonia.

Shostakovich was awarded the State Prize (Second Class) for his Ten Choral Poems.

One of the most vivid experiences I had in Germany was my visit on 30 March to the Berlin Staatsoper, where I saw a wonderful, exciting production of Beethoven's opera Fidelia. Listening to this truly great opera, I was at a loss to understand the commonly held opinion that the work does not stage well, that its libretto lacks drama, and so on. In Berlin Fidelia was produced by Werner Kelch and conducted by Hermann Abendroth, and their production was certainly thrilling not only because of the brilliant music but also on account of the dramatic action. I hope that before long Fidelia will take up the place it deserves in the repertoire of Soviet theatres.^^1^^

A new film, entitled Rimsky-Korsakorj^ has been released. The honourable task facing the makers of this filnl was to show the life and work of the great Russian composer, and it is to their credit that they managed to incorporate a large quantity of his music in the film. The soundtrack includes excerpts from Sadko, The Snow Maiden, The Tale of the Tsar Saltan, Kiteiji, Kashchei the Immortal, The Golden Cockerel and Sheherazade - all superbly performed by the orchestra of the Kirov Theatre, conducted by

First edition of the score of the Fourth Quartet

A. U1OCTAKOBHH CW«3

KBAPTET JNfo 4

4AH 4BYX CKPHHOK. AAbTA H BMOAOH4EAH

nAPTHTVPA

rOCy^APCTBEHHOE MVSblKAAbHOE H34ATEAbCTBO MOCK*. 1954

142 1952

the talented Boris Khaikin, and the singers taking part in the picture. The effect of Rimsky-Korsakov's music is so powerful that it occasionally covers up the failings of the film...

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

But it must be said that the film-makers were not entirely successful. The scenario (by Roshal and Abramova) is particularly poor. It is basically `correct', but that is not enough to make a work of art. Ideas must be presented to the spectator in such a way that he perceives them strongly and profoundly. The authors of the scenario forgot that the ideas of a work of art must be conveyed by artistic means.^^2^^

In the Columned Hall of the Trade Union House recently, the Radio Orchestra conducted by Samuil Samosud gave the first performance of Prokofiev's Seventh Symphony. Unfortunately I did not manage to attend any of the rehearsals or study the score of the work before its public performance. Consequently I shall not try to make a serious analysis of the work here, but merely give a few impressions of its first performance.

The symphony is a great success for Prokofiev. It is cheerful and lyrical, and its clear, light content and fresh, harmonious language are a sheer delight. Once again, the work reveals Prokofiev's wonderful talent for melody. Here, the melodies flow freely and naturally, vividly expressing the composer's thoughts. Another of the work's great merits is the fact it holds the listener's interest from beginning to end-and not by cheap effects but by the vigour of its musical idiom...^^3^^

... I once came across some anxious notes made by Rimsky-Korsakov in the last years of his life. The great composer felt that the spread of bourgeois modernism was threatening Russian music with a grave crisis and decline. 'Is music not on the brink of collapse?' he asked himself. 'What is to become of Russian music?'

And now, in the mid-twentieth century, the age of the triumph of socialism, we Soviet musicians can proudly affirm that the music in our country is steadily developing along the lines originally marked out by our classics...

It is with satisfaction that we can state that in the USSR over the lastthree decades the genre of symphony music has developed with especial success. It has fallen upon Soviet composers to continue the fine traditions of classical symphony music-the nxusic of Beethoven, Chaikovsky and Borodin, which was capable of embodying the deepest and most vital ideas affecting human society. The importance of this fact must not be underestimated, for Soviet composers have produced a number of major symphonic works which have been acclaimed widely and have found a firm place in the world's concert programmes.

143 1952

I believe that over the period of the coming five-year plans, the task of collecting, studying and popularising folk songs from all ends of the Soviet Union will be raised to a new level of scholarship, on a national scale. A complete encyclopaedia of Soviet folk music should be compiled, covering all the genres and forms of musical folklore from all the nationalities of the USSR. This colossal work will require the efforts of a whole generation of Soviet musical ethnographers and musicologists, and should be started as soon as possible.

Among the most important problems facing Soviet composers striving for ideological fullness and realism in their music is that of mastery. The composer should be able to embody all the great ideas and feelings of the people in his music with freedom and diversity, boldness and originality. The composer should be able to embody these ideas and feelings in an artistically perfect form. I think it is time to start paying greater attention to form. Let us remember Belinsky's words: 'The unity of idea and form in art is so great that it is impossible either for a false idea to be realised in a beautiful form or for a beautiful form to express a false idea.'

When I say mastery, I do not only mean the possession of the requisite professional skills: this necessary element has, I feel, been successfully acquired by most of our composers. In my view, the concept of mastery is considerably wider. It finds its expression in complete harmony between content and form, in the ability to use all the elements of musical language freely and versatilely for the purpose of embodying the idea content with maximum efficiency.

To write a harmonious chorale, or an intricate canon or ricercare, displaying enviable polyphonic technique, is by no means the limit of mastery in composition. It is important that the music should move and inspire the audience by its depth and thoughtfulness, and that all the means of musical expression be entirely subordinated to the idea.

One often hears works which are smoothly and correctly constructed, but which bore one to tears because of their long-windedness and because of the discrepancy between the abundance of musical sounds and the

144 1952

poverty and limitedness of the thoughts and feelings expressed. Such works cannot be called `masterly', despite their outer finish.

There is one other wish which I should like to express to my colleagues. Life, by constantly providing us with new ideological tasks, requires of us that we show a capacity for innovation in our treatment of contemporary themes. By passively reproducing ready-made schemes, we shall not create the fresh new musical images expected of us by our Soviet audience.^^4^^

I am presently enjoying my second visit this year to Tbilisi, the beautiful capital of Soviet Georgia. The purpose of this visit is to hear new works by Georgian composers. I came with great hopes, and these hopes have been borne out. At a review concert a few days ago, many successful works by talented Georgian composers were performed.

It was encouraging to see that Georgian music is pushing ahead, no small thanks being due to the younger generation of composers. Among the outstanding youngsters whose works I heard were Alexander Shaverzashvili, Archil Chimakadze, Revaz Lagidze and Otar Gordeli-all of whom were educated at the Tbilisi Conservatoire. I would even make so bold as to claim that in no other republic of the Soviet Union is there such an upsurge of young talent as in Georgia.

One characteristic feature of the young Georgian composers is the fact that they respond in their works to the burning issues of the day and speak about Soviet reality at the tops of their voices.^^5^^

...The most powerful thing in the new ballet is the music. The work shows many sides of Kara Karayev's talent more clearly than his previous cot roositions. Following in the footsteps of the Russian ballet classics-especially Chaikovsky-he has produced an important work of realism.

The music for Seven Beauties is genuine symphonic music, possessing breadth and stature. Almost the whole ballet develops and grows as a single, uninterrupted whole. Only here and there does the music lose a little of its symphonic coherence, and Some individual dances are rather isolated - which undoubtedly lowers the, overall impression.

For the characterisation of his heroes 'and for each situation the composer has found keen, distinctive, memorable musical images. There is a wide range of images revealing the fortitude of the people-from the lively, jocular dance games on `Artisans' Square' (Act Two) to the scenes

145 1952

The music characterising the vizier and his minions is full of sarcastic invective, underlining the cruelty and heavy-handedness of despotism. Especially effective in this sense is the violent scene in which the fields are destroyed, where the music combines accusatory grotesque with dramatic tension. The episode entitled `Procession' in Act Two stands out because of its theatrical and symphonic effectiveness. There is a distinctive charm and a refined national colouring about the music for the dances of the seven beautiful girls. The portraits of the Indian, Maghreb and Chinese beauties, and especially the dance of the 'most beautiful of all beauties', are extremely successful. Karayev's music for Seven Beauties is closely linked to the national culture of his homeland, Azerbaijan. Melodies, rhythms and harmonies typical of Azerbaijanian folk music make their presence felt throughout the work.^^6^^

146 1953

Several of Shostakovich's important works were premiered in 1953, including his Tenth Symphony, on which he worked intensively both in Moscow and in Kamarow. On 27 October the score was finished, and shortly afterwards Shostakovich and the composer Moisei Weinberg played the symphony on two pianos to an audience of teachers and students at the Moscow Conservatoire.

On 17 December the premiere of the Tenth Symphony took place at the Leningrad Philharmonia, conducted by Tevgem Mravinsky, who also gave the first performance of the work in Moscow on 28 December. The symphony soon became one of Shostakovich's most popular works. The Czech composer Vaclav Dobia$ wrote: ' There are few modem composers who could portray the sorrows and hopes of contemporary man as Shostakovich has done in his Tenth Symphony*

Before this, however, two other important works were performed for the first time. It turned out that the premiere of the Fifth Quartet,, written the previous year (1952), was given three weeks before that of the Fourth Quartet, which had been written as long ago as 1949. The Fifth Quartet was first heard and discussed at the Central Composers'" Club, on 29 September. Then on 13 November, the Beethoven Quartet presented the work to the public in the Small Hall of the Conservatoire; the Fourth Quartet was played by the same musicians in the same hall on 3 December.

Other works dating from this year included the Fourth Ballet Suite and a Concertino for Two Pianos.

Meanwhile, Shostakovich continued to give concerts with David Oistrakh and Sergei Knushevitsky. Their concert on 25 January in the Small Hall of the Leningrad Philharmonia included Shostakovich's Trio, Cello Sonata and five preludes and fugues. At the end of the year (23 December) the composer appeared again on the same stage, playing preludes and fugues and-with the Beethoven Quartet-his Quintet.

In June the composer travelled with a Soviet cultural delegation to the General Assembly of the Austro-Soviet friendship Society in Vienna. In September he took part in a conference in Moscow on the future activities of the Peace Movement inthe light of the decisions reached at the Budapest session of the World Peace Council.

There is little need to speak about how important the first performance of a work is for its future fate, especially if that performance takes place at such an important event as an All-Union Plenum of the Board of the Composers' Union, We all know of cases, both in the past and in the present, where an unsuccessful premiere of a work has tarnished its repu-

147 1953

tation for a long time to come. How often have even the most discerning listeners underrated a new work because its first performance was poor, grey and uninspired, or because the conductor or soloist interpreted it wrongly! All my life I have been trying to train myself to distinguish a work from its performance, i. e. to judge a work without regard for the quality of the performance. I am afraid I am not always successful in this.

It is particularly important, of course, that the performance should be of high quality when it concerns the work of a young composer who has neither an established reputation nor the necessary experience in working with the performers.

Working with the performers of his new work, the composer must aim to help them all-the soloist, the orchestra, the choir, the conductor-to understand and convey his intentions as fully as possible. This is one side of the collaboration between composer and performers.

The other side consists in the help which an experienced performer, who is well aware of the possibilities of his instrument, ensemble or orchestra, can afford the composer, by giving him essential practical advice and suggesting solutions to various complex artistic problems.'

Recently Pravda published an article by the American writer Stetson Kennedy on forced labour in the United States. Earlier/1 had heard Kennedy's speech at the Vienna Peace Congress, in which ;he was taking part as a member of the American delegation...

Kennedy's article reminded me of the collections of Negro protest songs which I have in my library. I have always been deeply moved by the distinctive, severe lyricism of these songs, by their expressive melodies and by their rhythms, forged in the work process. But now I hear these songs differently.

Myaskovsky was the musical ally of Prokofiev, the acknowledged leader of the Moscow composers.

His erudition, intelligence and charm attracted everyone, veterans and youngsters alike. He would never turn anyone away.

f;

From the very beginning, I remember Myaskovsky as an attentive, modest, democratic person---as every genuine artist should be.

I first met him in 1926, after I had telephoned him to ask him to listen to my First Symphony which had recently been performed in Leningrad. Myaskovsky immediately agreed, and the very next day I played my symphony to him.

I cannot remember the details of my first visit; I can only recall that Myaskovsky's comments, after hearing the symphony only once, were remarkably accurate and thorough. He made quick, fair but searching judgements. After this, ev^ry time I came to Moscow with a new work I would call on Myaskovsky, and listen with interest to his comments, deriving great benefit from his clear and professional criticism.

209 1959

There was one feature of Myaskovsky's that I particularly admired. This was his incredible love of music, the likes of which I have seen in few other people.

He was to be seen at every concert, and not only in the main concerthalls. I cannot think of any interesting performance of new works of Soviet music at the Composers' Union, which Nikolai Myaskovsky did not attend.

There was always a programme of radio concerts lying on the desk in his study, with the most interesting marked in pencil.

Sometimes one wondered how he ever had time to compose music-especially considering the enormous amount of time taken up by his classes at the Conservatoire, countless consultations with visitors to his home, hours of reading every day {his study was always full of books, both fiction and non-fiction) and his various public activities.

Myaskovsky's ability to organise his working time was enviable-he made time for everything, and always kept perfectly calm. He was always attentive and extremely polite, always ready to hear a person out and lend a helping hand...

This is what we ought to learn from Myaskovsky: to 'work and to love music, devoting one's whole heart and talent to it.^^1^^

Myaskovsky's name is as closely bound up with the musical life of Moscow as those of Nikolai Rubinstein, Chaikbvsky and Taneyev.

One still misses him greatly, although many years have passed since his death. And when I have written a new work, I feel sad that I cannot show it to Nikolai Myaskovsky.^^13^^

210

Intensive preparations were under way at the beginning of the year for the First Constituent Congress of'the RSFSR Composers' Union, which Shostakovich helped to bring about. He spoke at the Congress, was elected to the Administrative Board, and at its first meeting on 9 April was made its First Secretary.

An important event in Shostakovich's life took place on 14 September, when a general meeting of the Party organisation at the Composers' Union accepted him as a candidate member of the Communist Party.

Another, unusual, premiere took place in Novorossiisk on 27 September. At 6 p.m. a public-address system was switched on on Heroes' Square---part of a memorial to the defenders of the Hero-City during the war. For this memorial Shostakovich wrote Novorossiisk Chimes, which was recorded on tape and can be heard in the city to this day.

On 25 November the Leningrad Kirov Theatre put on the 400th performance of Mussorgsky's Khovanshchina, using Shostakovich's version and orchestration for the first time.

After a substantial break, Shostakovich returned to the idea of composing a largescale work dedicated to Lenin. By now he had rejected the idea of using poetry in the work; it was now conceived as a large symphonic cycle. It was on this that Shostakovich worked for most of the second half of the year.

In the autumn, Shostakovich travelled to several European countries with the Leningrad Philharmonic Orchestra. Concerts, conducted by Yevgeny Mravinsky, were given in Britain, France, Italy, Belgium, Switzerland and Austria. Among the works performed was Shostakovich's Eighth Symphony, heard for the first time in many places, and given a rousing reception.

In 1960 Shostakovich became Vice President of the Union of Soviet Friendship Societies with Foreign Countries.

I am very fond of Chekhov. He is one of my favourite writers. I love to read and re-read not only his stories and plays, but also his notes and letters, and I am delighted that the hundredth anniversary of his birth is being celebrated all over the world.

Of course, I am not a specialist in literature and am in no position to give a competent appraisal of this great Russian writer's works, which, I feel, have not yet been ^ully studied, and are not always properly understood. But if I were to write a dissertation about any writer, then it is Chekhov I would choose, so great is the affinity I feel for him. Reading his writings, I often recognise myself; I think that in many of the situa-

211

I960

tions in which he found himself, I should have reacted in just the same way as he did.

One often hears lamentations to the effect that Soviet opera is insufficiently vivid and diverse, that it to a certain extent lags behind other forms and genres of Soviet art. In many ways these lamentations are justified. But we do not always fully appreciate those achievements that have been made. Sergei Prokofiev, in my view, was most perspicacious in seeing new ways to develop Soviet opera. One of his best works is The Monastery Betrothal (The Duenna). It was a pleasure, therefore, to see the recent production of it at the Stanislavsky and Nemirovich-Danchenko Theatre.

The Monastery Betrothal is a lyrical comic opera, and a real masterpiece in this genre. It is full of sparkling wit, psychological observation, apt and precise musical characterisation, and beautiful, charming, flowing -'melodies. It is difficult to single out what is best in the work. The inspirecl, lyrical quartet from Act Two, the final chorus and the humorous choir of monks are superb; the `eavesdropping' scene is very subtly worked out: as the fish merchant Mendosa zealously applies his eye to the keyhole, the orchestra elucidates what he sees and hears, playing the lyrical, tender theme of Louisa's and Antonio's love... . The composer uses individual portrait-motifs for each character. He is no less resourceful in his libretto (written together with M. MendelsonProkofieva, and based on Sheridan's well-known play The Duenna], A comparison of the opera with Sheridan's play shows how many amusing additions, witty details, and even whole new episodes were introduced by the composer.^^2^^

Moscow is famous for its excellent amateur choirs, many of which have even toured foreign countries, delighting audiences wherever they performed. In our factories and offices there are a large number of instrumental, vocal and dance ensembles. And this is hardly surprising. In the musical capital of the world, which visiting cultural workers from abroad unanimously recognise Moscow to be, culture flourishes not only professionally, but also in amateur circles.

212

I960

How is it then that we are often unable to make full and proper use of this great amateur potential and put it at the service of our own people and our fellow Muscovites? Why should the Moscow trade unions and the Cultural Board of the Moscow City Council not exploit the services of this huge amateur army of 'performers from the people'? Why not simply, without any pomp-and circumstance, start organising a couple of concerts a week by various amateur orchestras, choirs and so on, in the squares and streets of the city? The Muscovites would be very grateful to the amateur performers for their worthwhile work. How these concerts would brighten up the people's leisure, and what a great educative role they could play in inculcating good taste and love of good-serious and light, of course-music and singing. How successful the concerts would be!

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

I read in Isyestia that open-air concerts of this type have already been running for over a year in the city of Gorky, on the bank of the Volga. The people of Kiev listen to good symphony music in their park overlooking the Dnieper. Why are we Muscovites so far behind in the important task of providing musical education for the people and embellishing their leisure time? This is not like us. I see no reason why outdoor amateur concerts in the cool of the evening could not also be arranged in other cities of our great country. Let us try to do this as soon as possible. Let us adorn our boulevards and squares with music!^^3^^

Our socialist art and literature are born under extremely complex conditions resulting from the fact that millions and millions of people have been drawn into the mainstream of culture. Of course, there are not so many perfect or absolutely indubitable works of art. This also applies to music. In almost every work the exacting critic can uncover some fault or other. But it is a great mistake for a critic who notices a failing in a work to rush to declare the composition useless and harmful, damning the whole of the composer's work without seeing its valuable, noble or new features, which help music to move in the direction of socialist realism.

Of course, all this is anything but an appeal to our music critics to ease off the struggle against the ideological flaws, Philistine cheapness and vulgarity, sentimentality and feigned enthusiasm that sometimes serve as a screen for works that are devoid of real content. Our music critics and scholars deserve much credit. We are right to be proud of certain works by Soviet musicologists, which have greatly enriched not only Soviet, but worldwide musical research. I have many friends who are music scholars and critics, and I should like to wish them great success. I would also like them to carefully tend all the young shoots in our musical life, to support the initiative of our talented young musicians, and to exercise goodwill.,in their approach to the mus^'c of their colleagues. Our musical journals should look more boldly at^^1^^.the burning issues of Soviet music, making a deeper study of the creative life of all the Soviet republics and lending a sensitive ear to folk and professional music.^^4^^

213

I960

I am glad that I work for the composers' organisation of our country and represent the most progressive, most humane music in the world, that I represent Soviet culture. I hope to use my work to justify my holding the high title of member of the Communist Party.^^5^^

My work has always been done under the guidance of the Communist Party, whose instructions I considered binding and tried to fulfil to the best of my abilities,

I have travelled a great deal abroad, and the more I travel the more I am persuaded that our Soviet music is the most progressive and the most humane in the world. This is a great credit to our Soviet composers, and, above all, to the Communist Party, which so lovingly and caringly helps us in our work, helps us to be honest servants of our people.^^6^^

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

Every new stage in the life of our country, and consequently every new watershed in the development of art, brings home the greatness of Lenin's behest, which we constantly remember when thinking about the present: art must belong to the people. These words are^^1^^ pregnant with meaning: essentially, they determined the purpose of our art, the whole line of its development, and the role of the artist iri the constructive work of the nation.

'We are all part of the people,' said Anton Chekhov on behalf of the Russian intelligentsia. His words take on a particularly deep, direct meaning now, under socialism, when each of us working in the arts proudly cognises the fact that the cause to which he has dedicated himself is recognised by the whole country as a matter of national importance, that he is necessary to the people in their constructive work, and that it is his task to see and understand the world, life and contemporary history as it is seen and understood by the minds and hearts of the people.

At the present period, when the country is at an advanced stage in the construction of communist society, the vocation of the Soviet artist is even more beautiful and noble. His place is where the labours of the people are bringing the communist future closer, making man's age-old dream of a better life come true. His purpose is to paint a vivid, inspired and true picture of the times of which he is an eye-witness and in which he participates. The important thing is not to miss chances, not to overlook the new life being born today, or the living traits of the heroes of our times, and to grasp the great meaning of the events taking place in our age, the age of socialism and communism.

...Yes indeed, the artist will find it hard to perform his main task-the education of the man of the future-if he himself is not endowed with the progressive world outlook, if in his own understanding of life he does not

214

I960

attain the level of the heroes he depicts. It is the task of the real artist constantly to broaden his vision of the world, and perceive the laws and ideas that govern its development.

At the Third Congress of the Young Communist League, Lenin said: 'If a Communist took it into his head to boast about his communism because of the cut-and-dried conclusions he had.acquired, without putting in a great deal of serious and hard work and without understanding facts he should examine critically, he would be a deplorable Communist indeed. Such superficiality would be decidedly fatal. If I know that I know little, I shall strive to learn more; but if a man says that he is a Communist and that he need not know anything thoroughly, he will never become anything like a Communist.'

Remembering these words now, I cannot help thinking of the experiences that each of us had to go through with the people in order to earn the proud title of Soviet artist, I also realise that any knowledge turns into formal, lifeless erudition, if it is not applied to life, and if it is not illuminated by a clear, progressive ideology. For only such an ideology can give the artist a sensitive ear, a keen eye, and a burning heart flung open to everything new in life.

Surely no proof is needed of the eminent role which can be played by music in moulding the harmonious personality of the future man, and in promoting profound and noble emotions in him-music, with its ability to evoke a lively, direct emotional response, to act directly on the formation of a person's spiritual world, to raise his moral standards and to spur him to action. Listening to Beethoven's immortal works, Lenin said that music evokes kind feelings towards people. And Beethoven himself, addressing his music to millions of listeners clearly expressed his idea of the main purpose of music: from heart to heart...

It is a great honour for the. Soviet composer or musician that he is the direct inheritor of the humanistic art of the great democratic composers of the past, that he holds high the banner of humane, profound music aimed at the hearts of millions of his contemporaries. We are proud that

215

I960

the Communist Party regards music as one of the powerful means of educating the people, and that, by openly supporting the communist world outlook, we share the Party's views on the content, role and chief aim of art. .

We have no reason to conceal this monolithic unity, or the fact that we wholeheartedly uphold the principle of the Party spirit of Soviet art. For, by sharing this principle, we declare, together with the Party, that both the present and the future belong to real music music of great social content and humanism, music that unites people instead of dividing them, music intended for the broad masses, not for a narrow circle of aesthetes and snobs, music that gives people noble emotions and a fine understanding of beauty.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

And when people abroad try to prove (out of pure political hostility or plain naivety) that the principles of socialist aesthetics are a set-of dogmas which constrain the artist's creative individuality, one would like to ask them: which 'musical credo' do they intend to set against the principles of our art, and where is the 'breadth of aesthetics' in the multitude of contemporary musical trends mistakenly known as `avant-garde'? It is not difficult for us to answer this question, indeed it has really been answered long ago by all progressive composers in the West, not to mention the general public, the real judges of music, who with scornful irony have rejected empty, crudely formalistic experiments which have nothing in common with art.

n\\

... Fighting with the Party for ideological purity and artistic perfection

>\ in our music, we have found the only true path-the path leading to the creation of works profound in content, diverse in style and accessible to the widest possible audience. And the artist chooses this path,-not because he is forced to, but because he feels himself the son of his people, a citizen of his socialist Motherland, the inheritor of the great democratic traditions of his national culture. The awareness of the importance of his work and the desire to perceive and glorify modern life open up the widest horizons for every Soviet composer, awakening in him wonderful sense of new musical style and a need for bold, fruitful experiment.^^7^^

I cannot imagine a composer---or any artist-wanting to shut himself up in his own work. Being in the thick of life, feeling its pulse and breathing, gives me even greater joy and strength in my work.

The horrors of the air-raids suffered by the people of Dresden, whose stories we heard, suggested the theme for my Eighth Quartet. In only a few days, under the impression of the film we are making about what happened, I wrote the score of my new quartet. I dedicate it to the victims of the war and fascism.

...But I have happy experiences, too. I have written five satirical romances to the words of Sasha Chorny, the well-known pre-revolution-

216

I960

ary satirical poet. With biting sarcasm, he pokes fun at the Philistines of the period of reaction which set in after the 1905 Revolution, Chorny writes with vitriol about those who threw themselves into the lap of mysticism and hid themselves away in a narrow world of their own. ...The greatest pity is that I have not yet managed to complete my Twelfth Symphony, I shall do my utmost to finish it in the nearest future.^^8^^

Since my plan for the symphony is fairly well worked out, I shall permit myself to say a few words about its content and about the thoughts that have moved me throughout my work on it,

To write a symphony about the October Revolution was, of course, a tall order. I shall have to call on all my strength and abilities if it is in any way to match the scale and importance of the theme. Naturally, when you are working on a symphony about the October Revolution., the most prominent image is that of the great leader of the working people, Vladimir Lenin. Consequently, the symphony will be dedicated to the Great October Revolution and to the memory of Lenin.

As I have said, the symphony will have four movements. The first is conceived as a musical narrative about Lenin's arrival in Petrograd in April 1917 and his meetings with the working people of the city. The second movement will reflect the historic events of 7 November. The third will tell about the Civil War, and the finale about the ultimate victory of the Great October Socialist Revolution...

It is difficult to speak about one's own works, but the theme of the new symphony moves me greatly, and it seems to me that this work should be an important landmark in my biography as a composer. I attach great importance to it.

Where do I draw my inspiration for this responsible task? I witnessed the events of the Revolution, I was among those who heard Lenin speak in front of the Finland Station the day he arrived in Petrograd. And although I was very young at the time, this was imprinted on my memory for ever. Of course, my recollections of those unforgettable days help me in my work on the symphony.^^9^^

217 1961

For Shostakovich, the first half of this year was dominated by his continuing work on his Twelfth '1917 Symphony. The work was completed on 22 August, and on 8 September it was previewed at the RSFSR Composers'^^1^^ Union, where a piano version was played by Moisei Weinberg and Boris Chaikovsky. On 25 September the composer attended the first rehearsal of the symphony by the Leningrad Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Yevgeny Mravinsky. The premiere was given on 1 October in the Grand Hall of the Leningrad Philharmmia. A few hours earlier, another performance of the work in Kuibyshev, conducted by Abram Stasevich took place.

On 11 October the USSR State Symphony Orchestra under Konstantin Ivanov began rehearsals of the symphony. It was then performed in Moscow three days running : on 14 October in the Metrostroi Palace of Culture, then in the Grand Hall of the Conservatoire, and finally in the club of the Compressor Works.

Another premiere took place early in the year. On 22 February the music-lovers of Moscow were able to hear for the first time Satirical Pictures of the Fast-Jive romances using the poetry of Sasha Chorny. The film Five Days and Five Nights, for which most of the music was written the previous year, was released on 23 November.

One of the outstanding events of the year was the first performance of a work written many years before-Shostakovich's Fourth Symphony. By agreement with the Moscow Philharmonic Orchestra, the composer returned to the music, but found no reason to change anything. He attended all the rehearsals and the premiere, at the Conservatoire on 30 December. 'Listening to the Fourth Symphony,' wrote Georgy Khubov, 'you are constantly aware of the intensity of the artist's spiritual powers, of the concentration of a searching mind, and of the undying ardour of his heart. And in the torrent of music, sparkling with sharply contrasting themes, images, colours and rhythms, a picture arises of an age full of dramatic events, and of contemporary man's complex world of feelings.'

Although Shostakovich had written no music for the theatre in recent years, his works were being used more and more often as musical material for dramatic and ballet productions. In April, for example, the Kirov Theatre staged a ballet based on his Seventh Symphony, and in November the Leningrad Maly Theatre put on a ballet called Flowers, for which the composer himself selected music from his waltzes and orchestrated them specially.

At the end of the year, the Azerbaijan Symphony Orchestra conducted by Abram Stasevich gave the first performance of Shostakovich's Symphoniette-a transcription of the Eighth Quartet for string orchestra and kettledrums. The orchestration, done by Stasevich, was examined and approved by the composer.

In 1961 Shostakovich travelled fairly widely, both in the Soviet Union and abroad. From 19 to 23 March he was in Novorossiisk, where, apart from visiting factories and sites connected with the War, he had a meeting with admirers of his music at the Drama Theatre.

In March Shostakovich had discussions in Moscow with the Earl of Harewood,

218 1961

Director of the Edinburgh Festival, about plans for the following year's Festival, which, it was proposed, would be dedicated to the Soviet composer's work.

In April the composer was present at the 4th plenary session of the Siberian branch of the Composers' Union in Novosibirsk, and attended all the concerts held to mark the occasion.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

On 9 May Shostakovich opened the 2nd plenary session of the RSFSR Composers' Union, and on 12 May he delivered a report on the subject 'Composers of the Russian Federation During the Run-Up to the 22nd Party Congress'.

In June he took a holiday at the Georgian spa-town of Tskhaltubo, and during a short stopover in Tbilisi found time to meet some of the republic's musicians and hear tape-recordings of their latest works.

•\ Shostakovich spent the middle of October in Budapest, where he was guest of honour at the regular Liszt and Bartok Festival.

On 2 December he arrived in Sverdlovsk for the plenum of the Urals branch of the RSFSR Composers' Union. On 10 December the Sverdlovsk Philharmonic Orchestra, conducted by Mark Paverman, performed Shostakovich's Twelfth Symphony.

At the end of the year Shostakovich went to Berlin for a meeting of composers from the socialist countries. Here, too, he attended a performance of his Twelfth Symphony.

Also in December, the composer resumed his teaching activities at the Leningrad Conservatoire, working with a group of post-graduate composers-B. Tishchenko, V. Uspensky, G. Belov, G. Okunev, A. Mnatsakanian, V. Nagovitsyn and V. Bibergan. For this purpose, he travelled regularly, once a month, from Moscow to his home town.

Yet another public duty fell on Shostakovich's shoulders when he became a member of the Lenin and State Awards Committee (literature and art section).

At an open Party meeting of the Moscow Composers' Union in September, Shostakovich was accepted as a full member of the Communist Party.

At the beginning of the year I was engaged in three compositions: my Seventh and Eighth Quartets, and the music for a new film by Lev Arnstam, a long-standing colleague of mine. The film is called Five Days and Five Nights.

I am now working on my Twelfth Symphony, dedicated to the memory of the great leader of the Revolution, Vladimir Lenin.^^1^^

All my thoughts and feelings are turned at present to my Motherland. The flourishing of her science and technology seems at once a real, historically determined fact, and yet somehow fantastic. I am proud that I live in the Soviet Union, guided by the Communist Party. I am proud that I am a compatriot of that great Russian, Yury Gagarin.^^2^^

219 1961

...Realist innovation, the search for fresh, convincing devices capable of expressing our people's new awareness of the world, the desire to achieve naturalness, unpretentiousness and emotional expressiveness - all these are characteristic features of the searchings of Soviet composers. The active search for new ways of expressing the theme of contemporary life can now be noted in the musical theatre, in opera and ballet. Perfection is still a long way off here, but there are some excellent progressive tendencies. The best traditions of Russian classical and Soviet opera combine with persistent attempts to find new dramatic situations, new images and new expressive devices. In Prokofiev's last opera, A Story of a Real Man, the episodes describing the plight of the injured Meresyev and the scenes in hospital are produced on the stage with great boldness. All this naturally required new devices. Prokofiev develops the song idiom traditional in Soviet opera in original fashion: the inspired melodies of songs from Northern Russia contrast effectively with the expressive scenes of Alexei's delirium and the Commissar's death...

{

We must continue to innovate even more boldly, for without creative experimentation there can be no real art-, and without rejuvenation of the means available to art it will be impossible to reflect the new, daring, heroic aspects of life daily being brought into existence by our socialist society. The only important thing is that new developments must be intrinsically linked with our national realist traditions.

Let us glance into the communist future of our music. People will be even more sensitive and perceptive towards beauty, and will love art, and of course music, even more passionately. But far stricter ideological and artistic demands will be made on our work. And today the question already arises:'what will remain of our music, what will stand the test of time? Presumably only those works that incorporate truly great and powerful feelings, romanticism, and noble moral ideas.^^4^^

It is sometimes the case that a young composer comes to work in the cinema armed with a delightfully fresh, pure and original approach to the genre of song. But within a few years he has 'served his time' and begins to churn out banal works, differing little from the produce of other

220 1961

composers and incommensurate with his talent and professional possibilities. It is particularly distressing when such works are produced by very talented composers.

Yes, the composer must be more principled and steadfast, and not resort to stereotypes in the hope of superficial easy success. Any concessions may lead to a loss of artistic integrity.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

...Above all our songs must be freed from the limited stock of cliched subjects and dismal, sugary outpourings; their themes must be broadened.

One other thing-every composer should be able to compose everything. I think it is wrong to classify composers as song-writers, symphonywriters, etc. Of course a composer can concentrate on what suits his talent best, but he should be prepared to work in all musical genres. This widens his artistic horizons and, moreover, it is only by this means that the low level of professionalism prevalent among certain of our songwriters can be raised, Overspecialisation can also have a bad efiect on the work of symphony-writers, who would undoubtedly benefit from working in mass genres. Let us work together to overcome these artificial barriers! Given the number of talented Soviet composers working in the field of song-writing, we should be able to solve problems of any difficulty.^^5^^

The first day of the war found me at my post as chairman of the piano section of the examination board at the Leningrad Conservatoire. No one suggested interrupting the exams or stopping work. Everyone stayed where they were and the exams proceeded quite normally.

The students performed their programmes exactly according to plan. If the sirens went off while someone was performing a piece, everyone went calmly down to the. air-raid shelter. When the all-clear was given the exam was resumed in strict academic form.

In the worst days, when bombing was at its fiercest, I moved into the building of the Conservatoire so as not to waste time on the long journeys on foot from the Petrograd District. The training I had received in fireprevention in the first days of the war now stood me in good stead. As soon as the alarm signal sounded I would quickly set off in my fireman's uniform to my post No. 5, ready to perform my civilian's duty. All the teachers and students of the Conservatoire were doing the same, and this inspired one with confidence that, should it ever come to that, we would manage to protect this famous building, which has gone down in the history of Russian music linked with the names of so many great musicians.

I was on duty every day, and they say I became a good fireman. It's hard to say whether I did or not: no incendiary bombs fell in my district, so I didn't have to put apy out.

Once, when my duty wa^over, I set off on foot to the centre of Nevsky Prospekt: I was to take part in a concert with Sofia Preobrazhenskaya

221 1961

and others at the Philharmonia, and had to hurry. I was still two or three streets away from the Philharmonia when people (although there had just been an air-raid and no one knew when the next would be) started coming up to me with the usual question: 'You haven't got a spare ticket for the concert, have you?'

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

Exhausted by sleepless nights, the Leningraders longed for moral., aesthetic relaxation.

I played my preludes for this unusual audience in such an unusual atmosphere with gusto, completely forgetting about the danger: people had risked their lives to come here, demonstrating that the beauty of art was alive and could not be killed.

I returned home with a feeling of complete satisfaction, and said to myself; people like these will never surrender Leningrad.

The role of scientific and cultural workers in those days was perfectly clear. Our place was. with the rest of the Soviet people. It could not be otherwise. The war we were waging against Hitler was the justest of all wars. We were defending the freedom, honour and independence of our Motherland. We were fighting for the best ideals in the history of mankind. We had to fight for science, art and everything we had created and built. The Soviet artist could not stand aloof from this historic struggle between reason and obscurantism, between culture and barbarism, between light and darkness.

Many artists, writers and musicians volunteered for the front. Take Professor Ogorodnikov, for instance, who reached for his rifle when part of the Pulkovo Observatory was destroyed by Nazi planes. The majority of Soviet scientific and cultural workers took up arms.

My weapon was music. And from the outbreak $f the War I was at the piano, working. I worked quickly and intensively. I wanted to compose a work about our times, our life and the Soviet people, who spared no efforts in the name of victory. Working on the symphony, I thought about the greatness and heroism of our nation, about mankind's greatest ideals, about the fine qualities of the Soviet people, about the beautiful scenery of our country, about humanism, about beauty, and about everything for the sake of which we were fighting.

Often I would take a break from my work and go outside for a breath of fresh air. Sometimes I would wander far from my house, forgetting that I was in a besieged city, constantly subjected to artillery fire and bomb attacks.

I looked at my beloved city with pain and pride. There it stood, scorched by fire and battles and strengthened by the sufferings of the war, and looking even more beautiful in its stern majesty. How could one fail to love this city, built by Peter the Great and won over for the people by Lenin, or fail to proclaim to the world its glory and the valour of its defenders. And what valour it was, and what humanity underlay that struggle!

...I used to return from my walks in the beleaguered city full of new impressions, possessed by a fervent desire to work and work and to make

222 http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

1961

my own tangible contribution to the battle being waged so selflessly by the Leningraders.

July, August, September... In three months I wrote four-fifths of my Seventh Symphony, and by the end of the year it was finished.

I dedicated my Seventh Symphony to our fight against fascism, to our coming victory and to my native Leningrad.^^6^^

My Twelfth Symphony is a kind of continuation of my Eleventh, about the first Russian revolution. In it I tried to portray the Great October Revolution and its leader Vladimir Lenin, to whose memory the work is dedicated.

At the moment, having just completed the symphony, I am satisfied. But soon I shall see it in a more critical light. For it is a dangerous sign when one begins to like everything one writes. For this reason I must set about the new work immediately: however paradoxical it may seem, this is the only way to overcome one's dissatisfaction with one's previous work.

...Philanthropy and humanism have always been the main driving forces of art. Only works imbued with humanistic ideas outlive their creators. Take Beethoven's Ninth Symphony or the works of Chaikovsky or Bach-all of them are humane in the extreme. All art which was devoid of the spirit of humanism, on the other hand, did not survive. Such works are superfluous, and mankind has excluded them from its memory... I have always striven to make a belief in man, his reason and grandeur, and his ability to overcome obscurantism and evil, one of the central motifs of my work,

...I receive letters from my constituents in Leningrad. They will have to be answered, and soon I will be going there myself.

No, this in no way disturbs my creative work. On the contrary, it is one of my main sources of creativity. I live the life of my people... I don't know about others, but for me it makes no difference where I work: my mind is always full of music. Comfortable surroundings mean nothing to me. Those who think that it is easier to write beautiful music in a fine palace are mistaken. I, for example, have sometimes composed while travelling in an uncomfortable train, and, on the other hand, have come back from a comfortable sanatorium empty-handed, having written nothing. It is one's self that has to be overcome in the creative process, not one's surroundings...

i

I have dedicated several df my works to our country's heroic past. Now I should love to write about contemporary Soviet life, which is full of such great themes as the exploration of space. I am extremely happy that

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

223 1961

my song The Motherland Hears, the Motherland Knows has been sung in space. Unfortunately I have not yet had a chance to meet Yury Gagarin and his colleague Herman Titov. I must say, the theme of space exploration excites me, and perhaps I shall use it soon in one of my works. Whether this will be a symphony, an oratorio, or what, I do not yet know.

May peace triumph on Earth, may we hear no military marches but joyful music glorifying man, the conqueror of outer space.^^7^^

The creation of works about modern life is an exceptionally important task, requiring of the artist great concentration and creative audacity. One should not be condescending towards the artistic quality of a work just because it has a topical theme. This merely opens the door to immature works of music, of which there are unfortunately more than enough, A work deserves a great theme and the right to be called contemporary only if the music itself corresponds to this theme and embodies the spirit of the times.

...Our light, variety and dance music is littered with tasteless, downright vulgar works, and this does great damage to the aesthetic, education of our people. Unfortunately the passivity of our composers in this area has opened the floodgates to cheap imported goods. One of the possible cures for this condition would be if our composers took a more serious look at the rhythms and melodies of folk dances. Think of the successful variety music written by Tsintsadze and Orbelian, the pieces based on Tartar national music in the repertoire of Oleg Lundstrem's jazz orchestra, and some of the variety works by the Daghestan composer Kazhlayev.

The major problem in Soviet music is that of contemporary national style. The concept of Russian music is often understood too narrowly. Sometimes the label 'new Russian music' is applied to dull rehashes of the least distinguished examples of old popular songs or opera music from the second half of the nineteenth century. The same old intonations, borrowed from a narrow, inferior area of Russian musical folklore, are churned out again and again. This 'style russe' is archaic and quite incapable of expressing the new themes born of our great times.

It is a well-known fact that national style in art cannot be frozen or conserved. The national tenor of Russian music has constantly developed over the centuries, together with the whole tenor of Russian life. Remember Glinka and Dargomyzhsky, who brought about a complete revolution in Russian music, compared to the traditional styles of the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. Remember Mussorgsky, Borodin, and Rimsky-Korsakov, who not only continued the process begun by

224 1961 http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

Glinka, but also introduced a wealth of new intonations, harmonies, rhythms and instrumental colours into our music. It is impossible to imagine the Russian musical style of the twentieth century without those important innovations introduced by the creative genius of Scriabin and Rakhmaninov, or, on the other hand, without the vigour of the Russian revolutionary songs which became part of Russian life at the time of the 1905 revolution.

In Soviet times the living example of fruitful renewal of the Russian national style in music was Sergei Prokofiev. Thanks to his bold initiative, Russian music acquired a whole world of modern intonations, new harmonies, orchestral effects, and vigorous new rhythms. A valuable contribution was also made by Georgy Sviridov. The intonational structure of his symphonic poem In Memory of Sergei Yesenin, and of his Pathetic Oratorio, based on Mayakovsky, is new and original, but at the Same time close to the Russian national tradition. Many wonderful songs by Victor Zakharov, Vassily Solovyov-Sedoy, Isaak Dunayevsky, Anatoly Novikov and others are good examples of the creative revival of the Russian musical style,

Soviet Russian music has already given rise to rich traditions, which must be boldly continued and developed. We must pay close attention to the interesting processes going on in the everyday and musical life of the people, we must study the new modern songs, and also the living speech intonations of the contemporary Soviet people. To develop national style means constantly to press forward, introducing one's creative initiative and individuality, one's vision of the world and inventiveness into Russian music.

...National style is not something static, it is a complex, developing process, in which .some features die and others are born. As professional musical experience is enriched, and artistic links strengthen, so, on the one hand, there is a crystallisation of national style, and, on the other, the musical cultures of fraternal peoples grow closer together. We are speaking chiefly of their content, of their principal images. Lenin, the Party, the people-these are the great-intransient ideas that illuminate, the creative horizons of every Soviet composer, whether he is a Russian, Tartar or Bashkir, whether he is composing an opera, symphony or song. The new content gives rise to new artistic traditions, which feed on popular sources. Different musical cultures beneficially influence: each other. Russian Soviet composers have gained much from creative contact with the folklore of other peoples, as was once the case with the great Russian classics. Now this process of mutual exchange has become considerably more intensive. Russian music should be singled out in this respect: even in the early nineteenth^ century it had become a powerful, distinctively national, highly progressive phenomenon in world art. It was precisely the democratic, realist traditions of Russian music that most influenced the formation of professional art among many of the fraternal peoples, including those who now form part of the Russian Federation. Many of

225 1961 http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

these peoples had no professional music whatsoever before the October Revolution, and their present achievements-operas and ballets, symphonies and oratorios, variety and chamber works-are a wonderful confirmation of the fruitfulness of the principles of socialist culture.

Nowadays, however, it is not only the case that composers from the national republics profit greatly from the experience of Russian music; in their turn, Russian composers derive much from creative contact with the music of the fraternal peoples.^^8^^

Shalva Mshvelidze is one of my favourite composers. I expected a great deal from his opera, and I am glad to say that I was not disappointed. The Hand of a Great Master is one of our most important operas. The original musical idiom, the skilled use of popular intonations} the excellent melodic recitative, and the splendid choruses all lend the score clarity, depth and colour. I do feel, however, that in the last act, in the earthquake scene when Mtskheta was destroyed, the theme falls apart somewhat. Here, a large-scale symphonic episode would have been better suited to the events unfolding on the stage. The finale is also rather sketchy. But in general this is a work of talent, which deserves to be translated into Russian and produced in Moscow and Leningrad. I feel I must reproach my Georgian colleagues for one thing: they produce very few works on contemporary themes. This is an extremely important question for the future development of Soviet music. The concept of topicality is now particularly vital. We must make our works more effective and bring them closer to life.^^9^^

During the Great Patriotic War the defenders of Novorossiisk covered themselves with glory, I therefore consider it a great honour to write Novorossiisk Chimes for the war memorial -on Heroes' Square.

The flame at this memorial burns day and night. It defies torrential rain and even the cruel north-east winds that howl over the city.

The city authorities commissioned the Composers' Union to produce a piece of music glorifying the heroes of Novorossiisk. This was how my Chimes came about. It is a short piece, lasting only two minutes. It begins with peals, playing the basic theme; then a symphony orchestra strikes up, and the music grows more and more ceremonial: at first it is heroic in character with sorrowful undertones, and builds up to a bright finale.

The work was recorded on tape by the All-Union Radio and Television Orchestra conducted by Arvid Jansons, and I sent the recording to Novorossiisk. Here a special apparatus was built into the memorial, and from early morning till late at night the Chimes sound every hour.

And here I am in Novorossiisk. I am deeply moved by the atmosphere on Heroes' Square. I have often gone there to listen to the Chimes. And

226 1961

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

each time with bated breath I saw people passing over the square stop involuntarily at the Eternal Flame as the Chimes started playing, and listen in silence to the music, reminding them of the city's defenders. It was a great joy for me to see the impression it produced.

I would like to make a suggestion. Many of our towns were the scenes of bloody battles during the War, in which thousands of sons of the Soviet Union laid down their lives for their country. Why do the authorities in these towns not immortalise the memory of their heroic defenders by also erecting eternal flames, for which Soviet composers would, I am sure, gladly write music. The noble initiative of the people of Novorossiisk deserves every encouragement.

...In recent years I have travelled a great deal in the world, attending various congresses and giving concerts. And each time I returned with fascinating impressions of meetings with people of various professions. But my trip to Novorossiisk has made me realise that I do not know my own country its scenery and, most important of all, its people---well enough. I therefore propose to take a look at the expanses of my own wonderful country in the nearest future. After all, I have never been to the Soviet Far East, Central Asia or the Virgin Lands.

It will be thrilling to visit the new construction sites and to see the inspired, intensive labour of the Soviet people going on everywhere, transforming the land for the welfare of the people, bringing it closer to communism. This is most interesting for every Soviet artist, who dedicates his work to the people.

...This is not the first time I have been in Sverdlovsk, but every visit gives me new pleasure. Sverdlovsk is a great cultural centre, with a good symphony orchestra, excellent conductors, an opera house and one of the best theatres of musical comedy in the country.

...I should like to impart to my colleagues my thoughts on the great tasks facing us. The 22nd Communist Party Congress devoted much attention to the question of the aesthetic education of the Soviet people. We foresee the man of the not-too-distant communist future as a harmoniously developed personality. Composers must produce works thai are in close touch with modern life, its heroes and their deeds and hopes. The composers of the Urals have enormous scope here. It is particularly important to collect new folk songs. We intend to hear the work of the youngest student composers at the Urals Conservatoire and to visit the opera studio at the steelworkers' Palace of Culture,

I am delighted that my stay in Sverdlovsk coincides with rehearsals of my Twelfth Symphony, dedicated to the memory of Lenin. I am, looking forward to hearing it, especially since I know the capabilities of the Sverdlovsk Symphony Orchest^ and its conductor, Mark Paverman.^^10^^

227 1962

The Third All-Union Congress of Composers was held in Moscow from 26 March to 3 April. Shostakovich attended the Congress and took part in the discussion of Tikhon Khrennikov's report. He also retained his duties as head of the Composers'' Union of the Russian Federation, and ran two plenary sessions of this organisation, in January and November. In December he participated in an AllUnion Conference on Ideological Work.

There were many performances of Shostakovich's music this year, including several which had not been heard for a long time. His work took up an even more prominent position in festival and concert programmes. At the beginning of February the composer attended the Leningrad premiere of his Fourth Symphony. On 4 November his Second and Third Symphonies were conducted by Leonid Vigner in Riga. Shostakovich flew to Novosibirsk on 19 April and that evening attended a performance of his own version of Mussorgsky's Boris Godunov at the local opera house. The next day he gave an appreciation of the production at a meeting of the opera house's artistic council. On 9 May the same theatre staged the 'Leningrad Symphony' balet (to the music of Shostakovich's Seventh Symphony). And in the autumn a ballet entitled The Lady and the Ruffian (based on a scenario by Mayakovsky), with music by Shostakovich, was staged at the Leningrad Maty Theatre.

In early summer the first of many festivals of modern music was held in Gorky. Among the works performed were Shostakovich's Fourth Symphony, Cello Concerto and chamber works. Shostakovich himself attended many of the concerts.

On 16 August the composer flew to Edinburgh, where the/traditional festival of music and drama was devoted largely to Shostakovich's wor,k. About thirty of his works were performed, including his Fourth, Sixth, Eighth, Ninth and Tenth Symphonies, instrumental concertos, eight quartets, fragments from his operas, and vocal cycles. The performers included Soviet musicians, and leading ensembles and soloists from Great Britain and other countries. The Belgrade Opera House Company also put on Shostakovich's version of Khovanshchina. On 3, September the composer gave a press conference in Edinburgh, and then left for London where a week of Russian music was being held. There, too, Shostakovich's work was fairly widely represented.

On his return to Moscow Shostakovich spoke about his impressions at a meeting in the All-Union Composers' Club. (His words were tape-recorded and are partly reproduced in this book).

In the summer, before his trip to Great Britain, Shostakovich spent some time in hospital, where he began working on his Thirteenth Symphony, using poetry by Yevgeny Yevtushenko, He continued the symphony after he returned from hospital, and by winter it was complete. It was premiered at the Moscow Conservatoire on 18 and 20 December.

228 1962

In the 1962/63 concert season, starting in September, a series of concerts of Shostakovich's chamber music was given in the October Hall of the Trade Union House, The concerts featured eight quartets, the Piano Quintet and Trio.

One other significant event in the composer's biography took place that winter: on 12 November he conducted a symphony orchestra for the-first-and, as it turned out, only-time in his life. Shostakovich's debut as a conductor took place in Gorky, with the local Philharmonic Orchestra. He conducted one half of the concert, which included his Festival Overture and Cello Concerto. The same concert featured the premiere of a new work-Shostakovich's arrangement for orchestra of Mussorgsky's song cycle, Songs and Dances of Death.

We have taken our leave of a wonderful year: the 22nd Party Congress, man's first flights into space, new perspectives for the country's economic growth... 1961 was also successful for me personally: on the eve of the Congress I completed my Twelfth Symphony, dedicated to the memory of Vladimir Lenin.^^1^^

Again and again I recall the marvellous, uplifting atmosphere at the 22nd Communist Party Congress, which I was fortunate enough to attend. There, in the wonderful Palace of Congresses, one could almost hear the paces of history, and feel the motion forward-to our bright future, Communism. We musicians are now faced with many questions of topical importance. One of the most essential is: how can we contribute, through our music, to the construction of Communism?

I think one of our fundamental tasks is to increase our professional mastery. The musical culture of communist society cannot possibly be built with primitive, badly written works. The question of mastery should be studied right from the start, from the composer's days as a pupil. I cannot say that I am entirely satisfied with the way composition skills are-taught at our conservatoires. The teaching of harmony is particularly unsatisfactory, being rather outdated... I think very highly of RimskyKorsakov's textbook, but, it has to be admitted, harmony has been enriched and has progressed somewhat since this textbook was written. It seems to me that we should think seriously about how to teach-young composers, how to help them become professionally mature and produce works that are interesting and full of worthwhile ideas.

There is also still a lot to be done in the field of aesthetics and the history of music. It is high time our musicologists and theorists got down to making a thorough analysis of the problems of topicality, innovation and style. All too often, they remain silent. At the plenary session of the Board of the RSFSR Composers' Union on the subject 'Lenin, the Party, the People', we did, it is true, discuss the question of the Russian Soviet musical idiom. But a fair time has passed since then, and the question^^1^^ (of course, a very difficult oife) has hardly been elaborated.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

On the road to communism we must create beautiful, profound, interesting music. As well as the large forms of serious music, there must be

229 1962

light, entertaining music, which should foster good aesthetic taste in our people, especially young people, in their daily lives. Some people say the very concept of light music is not clearly defined; but musicians in general understand it. It is not a question of defining it, but of making sure that light music is at the same time beautiful and absorbing. Only then will it contribute to the aesthetic education of the Soviet people and this is what is required of us by the Programme of the Communist Party, by our people and country.

The atmosphere in the Composers' Union should be truly creative and comradely, and our discussions and arguments should be heated and interesting. We must all also think seriously about the composer's style of working. I am against composers always going away somewhere so that no one can disturb them when they are composing. For this is cutting oneself off from life in the most elementary sense of the word. It is quite impossible to compose in such seclusion; but we must be able to organise our time and activities so that public and creative work can coexist happily, for the good of the common cause.

...I should like to remind you of how the Composers' Union was founded thirty years ago. At that time it included such figures as Myaskovsky and Prokofiev, Muradely, Khachaturian, Shebalin and many composers of the older generation. Now we must attract young people into the running of our affairs!^^2^^

It would be absolutely wrong to imagine the process of interaction and rapprochement between national cultures as a levelling out of the musical language or as a haphazard mixture of all and' sundry for the sake of bringing about a universal musical culture. Of 'course, the musical culture of communist society will come about not as a result of cosmopolitan elimination of national elements, but by strengthening international rapprochement on the basis of new progressive traditions.

...The greatest meaning of art lies in its serving the people. To be with the people, to rally them to the struggle for new successes in the construction of communism, is the sacred duty of all progressive artists today. And this means that the theme of modern life ceases to be just one of those possible in art: nowadays it is of prime importance for every real artist. How could Soviet art perform its most important function-as a means of communist education of the people-if the living pulse of modern life did not beat in it? For the popular and Party spirit of Soviet art cannot be separated from the burning questions of the age. And the only kind of art that can live and flourish is that which sees its vocation in serving the great creators of history-the people. And to serve the people is to do one's utmost to turn the policies of our Party into reality.

230 1962

dons are inseparable links in the single dialectical process of artistic development, and must not be seen in isolation from one another. Every innovation is built upon the best traditions, and, conversely, only those traditions which at the outset contained elements that carried them beyond the confines of their own age became stable and bore fruit.

Let us therefore distinguish living traditions from dead traditions, and true innovation from illusory innovation. Living traditions and true innovation form a dialectical unity, for the roots of both are in contemporary life and both depend on the requirements of life and are determined by the law of social development.

We are resolutely in favour of innovation, of bold experimentation in search of new methods and devices, but only for the sake of portraying the new progressive aspects of our life more accurately than could be done by older means. We must seek means of expression that are more vivid and effective that before. The search for shortcuts to the people's hearts cannot be carried out in isolation from life.

We are glad that our creative work is inspired and directed towards the service of the people by the glorious Communist Party. The Party exhorts us to hold high the banner of socialist realism, it creates favourable conditions for the successful development of art, and it teaches and helps us to strengthen our ties with the people.^^3^^

...All of us, artists of every turn of mind, are united by one thing: the content of our art is reality. We are realists, the inheritors of the great realist traditions of the past, but we are not merely realists-we are socialist realists. We strive to cognise reality in its revolutionary development, and to see in it the struggle of the new against the old and moribund. More than that-by means of our art we want to help secure victory for the new! Our method is to understand and change reality. This is what realism has become today---Soviet socialist realism!

The method of socialist realism does not preclude, but, on the contrary, presupposes the presence of various creative trends.

I hold that the originality of a composer's idea is largely dependent upon his having an individual style. Irrespective of the character of the musical language, the work of every real composer is distinguished by the intonations, cadences, textural devices and timbres typical of him alone, i. e. the search for new means of expression and the innovatory perfection of skills must be accompanied by the conscious perfection of our composers' individual creative styles to the best of each one's abilities. Even the best, most vital theme in a work of art is convincing only if it is put across by means of a vivid artistic device, found specially for the occasion and forming the artistic essence of the given work.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

...Great harm was done to the arts, including music, by Stalin's personality cult. Of course, event, during this period, despite everything, excellent works were written, but the achievements of Soviet music could have been greater.

;

231 1962

I feel that the fight for independence of judgement in art requires respect for the tastes of others. At the same time-and this is very important-free discussion and independent evaluation of works certainly presupposes thorough, reasoned argument; otherwise there is the danger of making a priori judgements, condemning works out of hand, and applying standard labels...^^4^^

Many interesting and valuable speeches were made at the Congress. But there was, to my mind, one failing in almost all of them. The overwhelming majority of the speeches boiled down to an analysis of the period between the Second and Third Congresses of Soviet Composers. Such an analysis is, of course, essential, but I personally would have liked my colleagues to have devoted more attention to the future. We must not only sum up the past, however wonderful and interesting it may have been: the prospects for the future are even more wonderful and interesting.^^5^^

*

...The condition of my right hand deteriorated a little, and I was temporarily forbidden to write. It has improved now and I can write again, but I am still in hospital. I shall be here for another two weeks or so: my hand is being treated, but it is a slow process.

While in hospital, I began my Thirteenth Symphony. To be ;more precise, it will probably be a vocal-symphonic suite in five movements, for bass soloist, bass choir and symphony orchestra. I am using poetry by Yevgeny Yevtushenko in the work. Reading his works, it became clear to me that here was a poet of great talent, and, most important, a thinking poet. I have met him, and liked him very much. He is 29 (sic!). How gratifying to think that we have such fine young people.

The five movements of the symphony are as follows: 1, Babiy Yar; 2. Humour; 3. In a shop; 4. Fears; 5. Career. The first three movements are complete, and work on the other two is coming along. The fourth movement is at a less advanced stage, as Yevtushenko has not yet finished writing Fears...^^6^^

*

Over a period of three weeks, many of my symphonies and chamber works have been performed in Edinburgh. I found it extremely interesting and useful to hear these works rendered by various orchestras, con-

232 1962

ductors, quartets and singers. I am now critically disposed towards much of what I have written, I am not satisfied with some things. In my view, this kind of reappraisal of one's own work over the years is absolutely unavoidable.

In the first place, I should like to rest a little. Strange though it may seem, I am exhausted by hearing so much of my own work. I must get my thoughts together and think over all that I have heard and seen. I should point out that I cannot complain of a lack of interest in my works here at home; but to hear so many of one's own works in such a short time takes it out of you. But I shall not only rest---I also want to finish my Thirteenth Symphony and Tenth Quartet.

I should like to tell you about my impressions of the recent Festival in Edinburgh.

All my works were performed fairly satisfactorily, some of them even well (I am not speaking about the Soviet performers), apart from two--the Sixth Symphony and the Eighth Symphony, whose performances I found-if not completely, then, at any rate, to a considerable extentunsatisfactory. If there is ever another festival like this in my lifetime, I shall ask one thing of the organisers: not to present me with & fait accompli.

Presumably for the sake of economy, which is understandable of course, a symphony orchestra which was to perform, say, on Monday evening would arrive in Edinburgh early that day; they would have a final rehearsal in the morning and give the concert in the evening. What changes could I possibly make at such a late stage? Still, I managed to make a few suggestions for the Sixth Symphony, which was played by a Scottish orchestra from Edinburgh, conducted by Norman Del Mar, and for the Eighth Symphony, performed by the Polish Radio Orchestra under Jan Krenz...

233 7962

It was a great nervous strain. Every day there was a final rehearsal or an ordinary rehearsal, or a daytime concert (sometimes there were three concerts-in the morning, afternoon and evening), and all this was a great cause for worry. At the same time, I slept badly and was very restless. It certainly was no pleasure-trip,,you know... This kind of work involves great difficulties and responsibilities...

Unfortunately, I had only one meeting with Benjamin Britten, whose opera The Turn of the Screw I heard performed by a London company in Edinburgh. Among the other touring companies, 'I would especially single out the Belgrade Opera, which put on Prokofiev's The Gambler. I enjoyed this very much: this is the young Prokofiev, and music is very interesting, very fine... I think this work will be staged here too, sometime. The same Yugoslav opera company performed my edition of Khovanshchina. I'm afraid my meeting with Benjamin Britten was very short. There is something seriously wrong with his left hand. He is very, very keen to come to the Soviet Union. I consider Britten one of the most talented foreign composers. He has, I would say, two excellent qualities: he is well-educated and a wide-ranging musician. He is an excellent pianist and conductor, he plays the violin and he plays the clarinet. This art is sadly disappearing nowadays. Bach, they say, played many instruments. Glazunov-the 'last of the Mohicans', I think-played the piano, violin, cello, bassoon, French horn and clarinet perfectly, and the flute rather less well. How helpful this is, especially for orchestration, and also when studying music scores...

And now, about the country itself. It was my third visit to Britain. The English and Scottish audiences made a very good impression on me. There was silence in the halls, and the audiences' reaction was lively and appreciative. I used to think of the British as rather stiff and prim: not a bit of it-they stood up on their seats, stamped their feet and whistled (whistling, by the way, strange as it may be, is a sign of appreciation over there, so that if the performers are whistled at, it's very flattering and pleasant).

234 1962

of an idea, concretely, like that. I saw it all, and wondered: why is such colossal wealth concentrated in the hands of this one lady ?!

I thought to myself: wouldn't it be fine if her huge house (it has all the necessary amenities) could be turned into a Composers' House, where they could go and work. I asked who lived in the house. 'My daughter, her husband and myself,' she said. Three people, then, occupied this enormous house. Afterwards she showed us round the estate, where a large number of agricultural workers were doing the harvesting,..

I told the lady I thought the estate was too big for her family. Yes, she replied, it really is a lot of bother looking after every thing-what with the factor stealing; the.,. She did not understand me: we were poles apart.

I retain many other impressions of my trip, especially of my meetings with the so-called 'ordinary people' of Britain. Allow me to digress a little: I don't really understand the term 'ordinary people'. What .is an ordinary person? Is a cleaning lady an ordinary person and a manager not an ordinary person? I don't know. All people are ordinary, and all are extraordinary.

I met musicians, I met music-lovers, and I met ordinary people in Britain. All of them showed a great liking for and interest in our great country and in our art.

In conclusion, may I say a few words about the press conference which I gave. This was my first press conference abroad, and in general it made a favourable impression. The pressmen were well-disposed towards me and covered everything objectively and fairly, both in right-wing and left-wing papers. There was only one unpleasantness, before the press conference. At one symphony concert, my works were performed in the first half, and in the interval I left to attend a performance of the Borodin Quartet, who were also playing some of my works. This was described as though I had left before the second half of the concert, which included The Rite of Spring, because I hated Stravinsky. I was about to open my mouth to protest at this strange interpretation of my actions, when I had to close it again, for the paper went on to report that I had arrived at the Borodin Quartet's concert...

••#

Much of my time is taken up at the moment with rehearsals of my opera Katerina Izmailovna at the Stanislavsky and Nemirovich-Danchenko Theatre. The opera was firit performed on the Soviet stage back in the thirties. Returning to the work, I saw that it contained many imperfections, and had to do some 'serious work on the score. I made several

235 1962

changes in the text and in the music itself. The first performance is planned for the 20 December, two days after my new, Thirteenth Symphony is due to be premiered.

...Apart from this, I am working on my Ninth Quartet: a 'children`s' quartet, about toys and playing. I expect to finish it in two weeks. I have almost completed the music for the film Hamlet,

I am very excited about the prospect of writing music for a film about Karl Marx, based on Galina Serebryakova's books. Needless to say, this is a very complex and responsible task for a composer.

There is one more thing I would like to do: to take up the conductor's baton myself. I have already conducted several rehearsals. Who knows, perhaps some day soon I shall even perform in this unfamiliar role.^^9^^

The whole of Yury Shaporin's work personifies the link between classical and modern art. The very sound of his name is associated with things and people of the past, dear to the Russian heart: the Petersburg Conservatoire, Glazunov, Blok, Alexei Tolstoy. But at the same time Shaporin means The Decembrists at the Bolshoi Theatre, and is associated with the music of his pupils-Shchedrin, Svetlanov, Sidelnikov, Flyarkovsky, Zhubanova and Kuliyev-and the culture of the present day. It is his inheritance of the Russian classics that, in my view, basically determines the importance of Shaporin as a truly national, deeply Russian composer.

When speaking about Shaporin's versatility, I do not only mean his actual creative work, which so clearly and fruitfully `reflected' the great epic school of Russian classical art. Mention should also be made of his uncommonly high general cultural level-his tremendous knowledge of poetry and painting, history and current affairs.

...And if we add to this Shaporin's sincere warmth and hospitality (also typically Russian features), then we can finally understand why every flat the composer lived in turned into a kind of `headquarters' for a fairly wide circle of musicians. They came to play music, to listen to new compositions, to drink tea by the samovar, to argue about art, or just to spend an evening with a cordial host. This is how it was on Kanonerskaya Street in Leningrad, in Detskoye Selo (now Pushkin), and finally in Moscow...

236

796-2

Shaporin, I think, is the type of musician who deserves to be imitated. Our young composers should aim to be just as versatile and devoted to national history and national culture; they should master the piano and the art of conducting perfectly (at least for their own works); they should be able to write articles and stand up for their ideals in an argument; their knowledge of related art forms should not be fragmentary and haphazard, but bear the mark of real erudition. In a word, they should be characterised by culture in the highest sense of the word, like that of Shaporin and some of our other greatest artists,,.^^10^^

I entered the Conservatoire in 1919. It was a difficult time, but inspired by the Revolution. Destruction was everywhere. There were shortages of food and fuel. When I started at the Conservatoire it was cold and unheated, and we had to wear our coats in the classrooms and in the concert hall. Alexander Glazunov, who was then Director, the professors, students and ancillary staff all did everything they could to keep the Conservatoire going and create conditions for normal work. And indeed, despite all the difficulties of the times, the Conservatoire continued to pulse with creative life.

...All the examinations in my subject, not only finals, but also class examinations, were held in public, usually to a packed hall. It is a pity that this fine tradition is not kept on today. For the public examinations not only accustomed even the youngest students to playing before an audience, but also opened the work of the classes to public debate and brought out the interest of the students in each other's work.

I shall never forget the heightened atmosphere in which the examinations took place: the crowded hall, the table covered with a cloth, and the examination commission of leading musicians, headed by Glazunov. The class exams were a great event for each of us.

I recalled this recently, when I had to act as chairman of the State Examination Commission in the Composition Department of the Moscow Conservatoire. I was interested in the students' knowledge of harmony. Not one of the young graduate composers could perform modulations smoothly. I felt it necessary to write about this in the Conservatoire

237 1962

newspaper, and appealed to students to make a thorough study of this important area of musical theory-and not only to study it but also to learn the practical skills that go with it.

I studied counterpoint and fugue under Professor Nikolai Sokolov, an excellent musician and teacher. In contrast to Steinberg, he often missed classes, although he lived near the Conservatoire. But I managed to 'go one better than him, and if he did not turn up I used to go to his home for the lesson. In this way I acquired a great deal of sound knowledge from him.

After Professor Sokolov's death, I completed the course in polyphony under Professor Steinberg, with whom I was already studying form and instrumentation. Thus, I can consider myself to have been entirely the protege of Professor Steinberg.

I studied the piano, as I have already said, under the first-rate teacher and musician, Leonid Nikolayev. It is a pity that he, a former pupil of Taneyev, did not teach composition too; I used to show him my compositions, and always got invaluable advice and criticism from him.

I still remember Alexander Ossovsky's interesting lectures. I sometimes used to meet I. Kryzhanovsky, show him my works and listen to his perceptive comments. Kryzhanovsky was very interested in folk music. Every time I visited him he used to bring out a pile of music his collection of folk melodies-and play or sing me examples. All this must certainly have helped to establish my own interest in folk music. It was then, too, that I heard the great Russian singers Fyodor Shalyapin and Ivan Yershov. And all this was part of the Conservatoire `milieu'.

I lived quite far from the Conservatoire, on Marat Street. Sometimes the trams did not run, but every day without fail I walked to my classes. We students were regular visitors to concerts at the Philharmonia and the opera house. We always went to rehearsals, too. Having no money, we perfected the act of walking into the halls without paying, but with no fuss and great decorum, causing amasement and great consternation amongst the ushers and administrators. But these small `crimes' were made up for by the immense store of musical knowledge which we gained in such an `unseemly' way.

The pupils at the Conservatoire were varied. There were uncommonly gifted pupils such as Vladimir Sofronitsky and Maria Yudina, and also musicians of a more modest calibre. It is with pride that I can say that all my class-mates received a solid grounding and could take up a respectable place in the musical world. I think we should study the experience of the Conservatoire's work in the past, and particularly in the first years after the Revolution, and take note of everything that could still be useful today.

I graduated from the piano department in 1923. For the examination I had to give two recitals. In the first (solo) I played works by various

238 1962

composers, and in the second, Schumann's Piano Concerto. I did not perform the Schumann Concerto so well, as I was ill.

I graduated in composition in 1925, my examination work being my First Symphony. Professor Glazunov, who was usually very benevolent when examining performers, often giving them 5 + ,* was strict, demanding, even niggling, "with the composers. He would often argue about whether to give a student 3, 3---or 2+ . I remember, during my fugue exam, Glazunov set me a theme on which I was to write a fugue with stretto. I racked my brains, but no matter how hard I tried, the stretto did not work out. I had to hand in the fugue without the stretto, and got 5- for it. Although I was not accustomed to doing such things, I went to see the Professor about it. It turned out that I had written one note down wrongly when copying out the theme. This was the whole cause of the trouble. The point was that with the correct note Glazunov's theme offered possibilities for all kinds of stretti: using fourths, fifths or octaves, accelerando, rallentando, etc. Without this note, all these possibilities were lost. 'Even if you wrote down the wrong note, young man,' said Glazunov, 'you should have realised it was a mistake and corrected it yourself.' Both Glazunov and Steinberg were very strict with regard to polyphony and harmony. When I let Glazunov hear the beginning of my First Symphony (four-handed version), he was unhappy about what he considered to be the dissonant harmonies in the introduction, after the initial muted trumpet phrases. He insisted on my altering them, and suggested his own version.''

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

The first time I met Konstantin Saradzhev was during the rehearsals and performance of my Second (October) Symphony in Moscow, at a concert commemorating the tenth anniversary of the Revolution (1927). He was very kind and attentive towards me. He was extremely punctilious in the way he ran the rehearsals, and helped me-at that time still a young and inexperienced composer---with his valuable advice.

I was later to come into frequent contact with Saradzhev. He was very well-liked and respected by musicians, and his interest in modern music was exceptional. He was especially noted for his interpretations of Myaskovsky, Prokofiev and Shebalin, whose works he would study in great depth in order to put across their meaning properly.

In 1935 Saradzhev went to live in Armenia. I often visited him at home there. For his part, he attended my concerts and always had something very perceptive to say about any of my works that were performed. I also visited him at the Yerevan Conservatoire, of which he was director for a long time. There are some very interesting, talented composers growing up in Armenia, and much of the credit for this should go to.

Konstantin Saradzhev.^^12^^ „

Vi

--------------------------- V

* The Russian marking system uses a five-point scale: 5 - excellent, 4 - good, 3 satisfactory, 2-unsatisfactory, I -very poor.- Tr,

239 1963

1963 marked the return to the opera stage o/Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk, under its new title, Katerina Izmailova. The premiere took place on 8 January at the Stanislavsky and Nemirovich-Danchenko Musical Theatre (producer: L. Mikhailov, conductor: G. Provatorov, sets I. Sumbatashvili), and several other theatres also began preparations to revive the opera.

In May the composer was visited in Moscow by the conductor and director of the Latvian Theatre of Opera and Ballet, E. Tons and K. Liepa, who discussed with him their production in Riga, which was scheduled to open in the autumn. As the date of the premiere drew closer, Shostakovich went to the Latvian capital to attend rehearsals (31 October). From there, he flew to London for the premiere of the opera at Co vent Garden on 2 December. Here it was produced by (he Yugoslav V. Habunek and conducted by Edward Downes. (In March the same theatre staged a ballet to the music of Shostakovich's First Symphony.) From Britain, the composer returned to Riga, where he resumed his work with the opera company and attended the first performance.

Shostakovich spent July at the Dilizhan Composers' House in Armenia. He also visited Yerevan, and spoke highly of a performance he hiard there of Stravinsky's Oedipus Rex.

At the beginning of September, the composer was in the audience for the opening concert of the new season at the Moscow Conservatoire; the programme included his Eighth and Ninth Symphonies.

This year Shostakovich was elected honorary member of the UNESCO International Music Council.

1962 was a year of great achievements in all areas of Soviet art. New important works of literature and art appeared, and Soviet science enriched the world with wonderful achievements. We enter 1963 with a legitimate feeling of pride. I should like the new year to bring closer collaboration between the various branches of the arts, Up till now there has been no real association between writers, composers, theatrical and cinema workers. Yet we all have a common goal. We are all building Soviet culture. And we must all build together. For this purpose, we must associate with one another and keep ourselves informed about the successes and failures of our colleagues in related art forms.^^1^^

240 1963

The artist and the people. This juxtaposition immediately jumps to mind when one thinks about the art of Aram Khachaturian. For he is an artist who is indeed linked to the people and to their poetry and music, an artist endowed with the great gift of seeing and understanding the world, life and contemporary history as they are seen and understood by the minds, hearts and souls of the people. This inseverable link is the source of the bright optimism and spiritual soundness of Khachaturian's music.

The history of music, past and present, shows that the only works that earn the love of the whole people are those whose authors, while being sensitive to the achievements of other cultures, carefully develop the national peculiarities of their own culture. This is precisely what Khachaturian's work is like. He upturned previously untouched tracts of Caucasian folk music and, using the traditions of popular and professional music as a basis, produced inimitable, contemporary works, showing signs of real innovation. It is hard to imagine Soviet and world music now without Khachaturian.^^2^^

...We were constantly surrounded by warmth and friendship from the working people of the republic. How they received us, how they listened to our music!-it was unforgettable! And this is not only moving-it is also inspiring, and obliges us to write music to the glory of the Kirghiz people and their courageous labpur.^^3^^

Since Dunayevsky, no one has properly dealt with the theme 6f sport. This is a pity, for it opens up wide possibilities to show the strength, beauty and youth of the people. We are decidedly lagging behind here... The melody of sport should ring out loud and clear: sport and music are indivisible. We saw the working people relaxing at the horse-races and other competitions. For then^. sport is a source of enjoyment. This contact with sportsmen took hold oij us, and now we are acutely aware of the need to write music about the beauty of sport and sportsmen...

Young people are looking forward to new sports tunes and sports

241 1963

songs. We know this, and are determined to fulfil their hopes...

I welcome the union of work, beauty and sport which characterises the new generation, in which spiritual and physical perfection combine... Yes, I am an inveterate sports fan. But the fault for the lack of new sports songs lies not only with the composers, but also, to some extent, with the footballers, who let us down too often....^^4^^

I have had a working holiday at Dilizhan, a wonderful, picturesque spot in the mountains, where I re-edited the score of Schumann's Cello Concerto. Of course I also got to know some new pieces by my Armenian colleagues. The talented composer Alexander Arutyunian showed me the first act of his interesting opera Sayat-Nova, which he was working on with great zest. The composer Grigory Yegiazarian let me hear a recording of his latest symphony. Lazar Saryan is working on a violin concerto.

In Yerevan I went to the opera to hear the first performance in the Soviet Union of Igor Stravinsky's oratorio Oedipus Rex,

I have travelled fairly widely this year, taking part in festivals of Soviet music in Moldavia and Kirghizia. My trips to these republics were very interesting and instructive.

http://www.leninist.biz/en/1981/DS343/index.txt[2012-12-25 0:41:07]

In general, this kind of festival of Russian Soviet music should be encouraged in as many republics as possible. They are equally useful and interesting for Russian composers, who meet new audiences, and for the audiences themselves...

: .