Dmitri Shostakovich (1906–1975)

A controversial book; doubt has been cast on the accuracy of Volkov's reporting. Certainly to me, the voice of Shostakovich that comes over is too jaundiced to be entirely credible; after all, Shostakovich was a child of the Bolshevik Revolution and held the values of those days very dear. Many Russian Communists did even though they were uneasy with the excesses of Stalin's rule, and Shostakovich was no different. None of this comes over in Volkov's rendition. After all, he was a volunteer show more fireman during the siege of Leningrad and had to be ordered to leave the city - these were the acts of a patriot, but no sense of this side of Shostakovich comes through.

I suspect Volkov may have been responsible for some very selective editing, taking out of Shostakovich's account anything that was at all complementary of the Soviet system and ideals. So I believe this is only a partial account of Shostakovich's life, filtered through the mind of someone with an agenda of their own.

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Postscript, November 2019: Ten years after I wrote the above review, the changes in the former Soviet Union have brought all manner of new material to light. They have also brought to light much about the USSR that we only suspected, and never knew directly. Russia is a hard country and it breeds hard people. Other, later reviewers here on LT have written from positions of greater knowledge; taking those writings on board and considering them in the light of what I have learnt in the past ten years changes my opinion of this book, to its detriment. My opinion of - and admiration for - Shostakovich remains unchanged. show less

This book's been controversial since it was published in '79, 4 years after Shostakovich’s death. Some think it’s largely fabricated, others think it accurately represents the composer. The interviewer/author doesn’t do an exceptional job (e.g. there’s essentially nothing about Shostakovich’s family after his childhood), but if it’s substantially a fabrication, it’s pretty well done and pretty consistent. Regardless, it’s full of the tragedy and horror of life under Stalin, show more particularly as it affected the Soviet cultural elite, with many disturbing but interesting episodes. Surely the general gist is accurate.

More positively, it sheds a little light on Russian music from an important composer’s perspective, especially regarding Glazunov as an educator and also regarding Mussorgsky (if we trust these specifics). Nearly every paragraph is thick with a sarcasm that seems akin to the irony and sarcasm in Shostakovich’s music. Tragic as the material is, the sarcasm is often funny and occasionally hilarious. I haven’t seen the new Ashkenazy forward – I’d like to hear his take on the book. show less

As you my learn by reading more about the Author and this book, this is perhaps the greatest hoax in the history of anti-soviet propaganda, as well as an insult to the composer himself. Volkov said that Shostakovich dictated the material in the book at a series of meetings with him between 1971 and 1974. However, when challenged, Volkov refused to show any notes pertinent to is writings. As per Wiki's comments: The strongest criticisms of the book were raised by Laurel Fay first in 1980, show more then in 2002 (when she claimed to have finally managed to access an original manuscript of Testimony in Russian — which, in fact, is not the original manuscript, but a publishing house copy, which differs significantly from the real original manuscript).[citation needed] She found that passages at the beginning of eight of the chapters duplicate almost verbatim material from articles published as Shostakovich’s between 1932 and 1974. Volkov thus persuaded Shostakovich to sign each page containing the composer’s own material, before attaching to it fabricated material of Volkov’s own doing. A second argument against the book is that Volkov did not meet Shostakovich often enough to have received the material. Shostakovich’s widow, Irina, has stated that Volkov met him only three or four times. Regardless of Volkov, I ask myself why don't we look more in the politics of music at time of Beethoven, or never mention that Richard Strauss was a Nazi, that Beethoven was left poor and sick by the regime, and that Haydn was a dictator and "boss" of all musicians at his time? Is it because we don't have enough bad things to say about the USSR? I think we don't need to invent anything, just listen to his music and try to understand how human suffering can produce sublime art. As in Beethoven's last quartets or Mahler's last symphonies. There is good music and bad music. Bad music is very much influenced by the ruling class. Genius is not and never will. Some people, like Shosta, are above what we see and perceive, and this is why they are virtually immortal. I personally had the honor to meet him, I was 8, in 1965 and adults told me that he was the most private person, the most self-critical and modest musician, and a total loner. Did Stalin make him like this? If you think so, you are like the Stalinist who equated him (Stalin) to god. show less

The seventh symphony was one of Shostakovich’s most famous symphonies because of the circumstances that surrounded its composition. Some contemporary listeners (based on what I’ve read in the Shostakovich newsgroup) aren’t so keen on the music itself, but I quite like it.

It was mostly composed in Leningrad in 1941–2, when that city was under siege by the Germans during World War II. Its very composition and performance were hailed as a triumph of Soviet spirit in the face of terrible show more opposition. However, all is not necessarily as it seems (or, as the Soviet authorities wanted to see it). The symphony’s famous savagery (the march-theme in the first movement in particular, but in other places through-out the work) could just as easily be read as a depiction of the brutality of totalitarianism in general. Many now believe this to have been Shostakovich’s real intention.

The second movement of this symphony is one that particularly appeals to me. It starts out in quite a jaunty mood, with the strings playing quite a bouncy melody. However it quickly becomes rather melancholic with the entry of a solo oboe. It’s beautiful, sad and genuine. A little later a bassoon is heard, there is a brief bit of drama on the strings, and the oboe disappears. The strings play a pizzicato melody that doesn’t bode well and then suddenly the clarinets, sarky and interfering, latch onto what’s going on. They’re joined by the brass, and the flutes, and the whole tone of the movement has changed. Within just a short while, the tympani is pounding away and the whole thing is positively martial. This is not joyous music, but thrilling in a chilly, creepy sort of way. Eventually, the fit passes, and the first theme returns with a harp on top, but also with what I think is a bass clarinet murmuring underneath. It even gets to state the oboe’s theme once on its own, before the strings finish the movement. The original bounce is sort of there, but the rhythm is accentuated, and a little tenser.

"Meanwhile, in the first hot July days, I started on my Seventh Symphony, conceived as a musical embodiment of the supreme ideal of patriotic war. The work engrossed me completely. Neither the savage air-raids nor the grim atmosphere of a beleaguered city could hinder the flow of musical ideas. . . . I worked with an inhuman intensity. I continued to compose marches, songs, and film music, and attended to my organizational duties as chairman of the Leningrad Composers' Union, and then would return to my symphony as though I had never left it.

The first and longest movement bears a dramatic and (I would say) tragic character. [It] tells of the happy, peaceful life of a people confident in themselves and in their future. It is a simple life, such as was enjoyed by thousands of Leningrad's Popular Guards, by the whole city, by the whole country, before the war broke out. Then comes the War. I have made no attempt at naturalistic interpretation of the War by imitating booms of cannon, shell, explosions, etc. I tried to give an emotional image of the War. The reprise is a memorial march, or more correctly a requiem for the War's victims. Plain people pay tribute to the memory of their heroes. The requiem is followed by an even more tragic theme. I don't know how to describe it. Perhaps it is the tears of a mother, or even that feeling which comes when sorrow is so great that there are no more tears. These two lyrical fragments form the conclusion of the first part of the symphony. The closing chords resemble the din of distant battle, a reminder that the war continues.

The next two movements were intended as an intermezzo. They confirm life in opposition to war. I tried to express the thought that art, literature and science must advance in spite of war. It is, if you like, a polemic against the statement that "when the cannons roar the muse is silent."

The fourth movement is dedicated to our victory. It is an immediate continuation of the second and third movements, their logical outcome. It is the victory of light over darkness, wisdom over frenzy, lofty humanism over monstrous tyranny.

While I was working on this music, Leningrad was converted into an impregnable fortress. Fresh Popular Guard detachments were constantly being formed. The entire population learned the art of warfare, and it seemed that war had replaced all other affairs. I found, however, that that was not so, for one of my friends told me that all tickets for the Philharmonic concerts had been sold out. Indeed, at all these concerts I found the audience in high spirits and keenly responsive to our performance. My excitement at these concerts was something new, for I came to understand that music, like every art, is a genuine requirement of man.

On the whole I feel that the Seventh Symphony is an optimistic conception. As a composition it is closer to my Fifth Symphony than to my Sixth; it is a continuation of the emotions and mood of the Fifth Symphony". Shostakovich. show less