I have known Shostakovich’s Symphony No 4 for a long time. I bought the LP of the first American performance by the Philadelphia Orchestra, conducted by Eugene Ormandy. I listened once or twice; did not really get into the work.
I have been listening to it again and finally appreciate it fully. This includes both the orchestral version and a performance of the symphony, arranged for two pianos, by Maki Namekawa and Dennis Russell Davies. I saw a live performance by Namekawa and Davies at the Morgan Library in New York recently. I purchased the CD. I highly recommend it.
The third (final) movement in the recorded piano version lasts over 30 minutes. It’s amazing.
The manuscript score for the Fourth Symphony was lost during World War II. Using the orchestral parts that survived from the 1936 rehearsals, Shostakovich had a two-piano version published in an edition of 300 copies in Moscow in 1946. Shostakovich began considering a performance only after Stalin’s death in 1953 changed the cultural climate in the Soviet Union. He undertook no revisions.
Conductor Kirill Kondrashin led the premiere of the orchestral version on December 30, 1961 with the Moscow Philharmonic Orchestra. The first performance outside the USSR took place at the 1962 Edinburgh Festival with the Philharmonia Orchestra under Gennady Rozhdestvensky.
The symphony is strongly influenced by Gustav Mahler, whose music Shostakovich had been closely studying with Ivan Sollertinsky during the preceding ten years. (Friends remembered seeing Mahler’s Seventh Symphony on Shostakovich’s piano at that time.) The duration, the size of the orchestra, the style and range of orchestration, and the recurrent use of “banal” melodic material juxtaposed with more high-minded, even “intellectual” material, all come from Mahler.
From the album notes for the piano version (Supertrain Records):
In the mid-1930s Dmitri Shostakovich was on top of the world artistically. In one fell swoop that all changed when his opera Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District was condemned in the pages of Pravda, a review likely penned by Stalin himself.* So it came as no surprise that at this time his next major work, his Fourth Symphony, was withdrawn from performance after a number of rehearsals. It was deemed simply too risky and provocative to perform it.
The symphony, a true masterwork and Shostakovich s first large format purely instrumental symphony, lay in obscurity, unperformed for more than a quarter century until after Stalin s death. The original score to Symphony No. 4 was lost and remains unfound. It was only by virtue of having the original orchestral parts from rehearsals and this arrangement for two pianos that Shostakovich made to perform the piece in private for his friends, that the work was able to be reconstructed.
This masterful performance by pianists Maki Namekawa and Dennis Russell Davies brings to light the majesty of this underappreciated work. It is part of a series of recordings the duo has made to explore the musical essence of works more often known in their original versions.
Rachmaninov penned two formats of his Symphonic Dances: full orchestra and dual pianos. Shostakovich fortunately did likewise for his Symphony No. 4 of 1936 because the piano score survived Stalin and World War II while the complete orchestral score was lost. Indeed, other than the privately held printed copies of the piano version, only various orchestral parts for the rehearsal were located. (The work was obliged to be withdrawn from concert performance, as the abstract and angry, gloomy symphony would have displeased Soviet authorities, and it was officially banned in 1948.) The reconstructed orchestration eventually had its debut in 1961 in Moscow. This two-piano arrangement offers a new perspective to the Symphony; its different quality of sound allows increased focus on developmental detail and its raw emotional power. Its three movements of 72 minutes begins with Shostakovich phrasing and rhythm already established in his earlier patriotic symphonies. This first extended section goes through an exploration of dark corners of society. The grand sweep and introspective journey of Mahler was much on his mind as Shostakovich prepared the work, but his was filled with angst and not a hint of eventual glory or divine surrender. (His popular extroverted Symphony No. 5 redeemed his political reputation.) The even longer third movement, following a funeral march, is resolute with a pounding series of triplet chords that lead to further somewhat militaristic adventures, with trumpet calls. The positive and defiant dancing spirit continues to a climax of sustained bell-like chords as storm waves upon cliffs. The Shadow soon engulfs the proponent as the symphony softens and fades. The pianists for this important release are conductor Dennis Russell Davies and his wife Maki Namekawa, who deliver a gripping performance. The listener will hear Shostakovich with new ears.
* * *
This piano duo captures all the intensity, renegade spirit, and cumulative power of this great work.
* * *
It’s amazing how two pianos can sound so symphonic. It genuinely channeled the many orchestral versions I’ve heard. You can hear Shostakovich’s compositional genius at work even in this (two) piano “reduction.”
* * *
Shostakovich dealt with a great deal of adversity as a result of wars, the revolution, and Stalinism. That is sad but it makes for some really amazing stories. So it is with this symphony.
It was composed in 1936 and would mark the entry of more post-romantic elements into the composer’s work which gives it a Mahler-like cast at times. Unfortunately the politics resulted in the composer withdrawing the symphony. During WWII the score was lost and reconstructed from surviving orchestral parts and the present two piano transcription by the composer. The world premiere occurred in 1961 under Kiril Kondrashin.
It is the two piano “reduction” which is featured here. Reduction refers to the transcription of the piece for two pianos but the grand symphonic nature shines through with amazing lucidity. Of course this is as much due to the skill of the transcription but also of the artists. If you have never heard a great transcription this will amaze you.
Davies and Namekawa have established quite a name for themselves as a duo piano team. Davies, the long established conductor and his life partner Namekawa, herself a dazzling pianist have collaborated for some time now as a duo and this recording is testament to what they can do. Here they joyfully share their interests and insights on this masterpiece. Even if you have and know the orchestral version you will want to hear this.
There are three movements here. The outer movements are long extended compositions with a small(but amazing) interlude in between. This is not the Shostakovich of the famed fifth h symphony. Rather it is a sort of transitional piece between the student work of the first symphony and the social realism of the second and third symphonies. While deeply intelligent the work has no intended program and one could almost pass this off stylistically as a lost Mahler work.
Fear not, though, the composer’s fingerprint is here. After all this is his fourth essay in the symphony genre. Unfortunately a perfect storm of politics conspired to almost destroy this work. Fortunately both this reduction and the reconstruction make the work available. It is especially curious for the Shostakovich enthusiast to listen to this work and imagine the care that must have been taken to avoid being associated with non-state-approved music. It’s a good example of how politics places additional meaning on a piece of music that originally had none.
Antonio Vivaldi’s father, Giovanni Battista Vivaldi, … was a barber before becoming a professional violinist, and was one of the founders of the Sovvegno dei musicisti di Santa Cecilia, an association of musicians. He taught Vivaldi to play the violin and then toured Venice playing the violin with his young son.
In September 1703, Antonio Vivaldi became maestro di violino (master of violin) at an orphanage called the Pio Ospedale della Pietà (Devout Hospital of Mercy) in Venice. While Vivaldi is most famous as a composer, he was regarded as an exceptional technical violinist as well. The German architect Johann Friedrich Armand von Uffenbach referred to Vivaldi as “the famous composer and violinist” and said that “Vivaldi played a solo accompaniment excellently, and at the conclusion he added a free fantasy [an improvised cadenza] which absolutely astounded me, for it is hardly possible that anyone has ever played, or ever will play, in such a fashion.” — “Antonio Vivaldi,” Wikipedia
Thanks to my departed friend William S. (Bill) Dalzell for his spiritual awareness and the knowledge of such films which he bequeathed to me.
And, I wish to add, this film inspires me to think of all those suffering state-sanctioned cruelty here in the present, including all the souls locked up in our prisons for sins and misdeeds of which, if they repent, it is not acknowledged or allowed; and for which they know no Christian forgiveness.
Posted here are 42 harpsichord suites — performed by Joseph Payne — of the German composer Johann Pachelbel (1653-1706). It has been my feeling for some time that Pachelbel should be a lot better known than he is — and not just known for one or two famous works (e.g., his Canon in D).
Joseph Payne (1937-2008) was a harpsichordist and organist known for his pioneering recordings of early keyboard music.
of Franz Schubert’s String Quartet No. 14 in D minor (Death and the Maiden), performed by the Julliard String Quartet.
It speaks for itself — and for Schubert.
With my rudimentary knowledge of musical form, I realized that the second movement is in the form of theme and variations, something we learned about in a so-so music appreciation course I took in college.
This track contains mezzo-soprano Dame Janet Baker’s performance of the aria “When I Am Laid In My Grave” (also known as Dido’s lament) from Henry Purcell’s opera Dido and Aeneas.
It was on side 2 of a precious LP that I purchased in a Manhattan record store in the 1970s: of a groundbreaking performance conducted by Anthony Lewis (made in the 1950s) of Purcell’s opera.
I don’t think I have ever heard a more beautiful aria. Purcell’s death, at the age 36, was a tragic loss — speaking in general terms, to music.
My younger brother alerted me and our siblings to this New York Times article, and asked us to pick a favorite among the Beethoven pieces discussed. The following is the text of an email of mine in reply to my brother.
Thanks for sharing and alerting me to this Times article. I find such articles sort of silly, usually. But, here are my favorites.
Roger
Weston Sprott
The “incredible transition” into the work’s final movement (between the third and fourth movements) of Beethoven’s Fifth. Yes, incredible. It never fails to thrill me. It’s brilliant and overpowering.
Steve Reich
Slow (third) movement of the A minor String Quartet (Op. 132). Yes, so profoundly. Plumbs spiritual and emotional depths. I got to know the Late Quartets in my senior year in college. They were a revelation.
Patricia Morrisroe
“Moonlight” Sonata, third movement. The “Moonlight’ sonata was one of the first Beethoven piano sonatas I got to know, in my senior year in high school and, mostly, during the summer of 1964, when I listened to it countless times.
Paul Lewis
The first movement of the piano sonata Opus 78. For some reason, I got to know this sonata only rather recently. This movement is one of my absolute favorites among the piano sonatas. A brilliant opening. Is enchanting the right word?
Seth Colter Walls
The second movement of the Seventh Symphony. I became familiar with all the Beethoven symphonies quite early, in my teens. I probably did not really get to know the Seventh until my freshman year in college (thanks in large part to the portable stereo that Mom and Dad gave me as a high school graduation present). When I first heard the seventh symphony, I found the second movement haunting, and still do. Like a lot of great Beethoven music, great passages, it is unique. He seems to be always original. Which is why he never tires (I should say, to be grammatically correct, never tires the listener).
Here’s a great performance of Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 1 in G minor, conducted by Leonard Slatkin.
The title of the symphony in Russian, Зимние грёзы (Zimniye gryozy), is usually rendered in English as “Winter Dreams.” This is not accurate. The Russian word for dreams is мечты (mechty). The noun грёза (groza) means a daydream or reverie.
Tchaikovsky’s last three symphonies are listened to much more often. They are all works of great emotional power and consummate mastery. But the originality and beauty of the first symphony are notable. The four movements are as follows:
1. Dreams of a Winter Journey – Allegro tranquillo
2. Land of Desolation, Land of Mists – Adagio cantabile ma non tanto
3. Scherzo – Allegro scherzando giocoso
4. Finale – Andante lugubre – Allegro maestoso
It is perhaps not a good idea to do so, but I would single out the first two movements as favorites of mine, and especially the haunting, elegiac second movement.
The Symphony No. 1 was composed in 1866 and first performed in 1868.
