SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL

Prokofiev and Shostakovich: London Symphony Orchestra, Yuri Temirkanov (conductor), Sakaya Shoji (violin) Sergei Leiferkus (bass), Gentlemen of the London Symphony Chorus. Barbican Hall London 24.2.2008 (GD)

Prokofiev  - Violin Concerto No 1

Shostakovich - Symphony No 13 ‘Babi Yar’


Prokofiev’s First Violin Concerto requires a complex blend of virtuosity, rhythmic flexibility, and lyricism especially in the solo violin part. Miss Shoji possesses the first of these requirements in no short measure; some of her upward/downward figurations and trills are as technically perfect as I have heard. But she was not so successful at sustaining a contrasting lyricism, and a measure of  rhythmic flexibility. These qualities surely come from a certain maturity of understanding which takes the  work as a whole. Temirkanov coaxed some intricately woven string configurations from the LSO in the opening ‘Andantino’;  although the woodwinds were not always in synchronisation with the strings. In terms of ensemble, things did not improve in the ‘Scherzo: Vivacisissimo’  either with woodwinds and strings not always together in their delicate par-writing, and with Miss Shoji completely awry vis à vis her own part and the orchestra on at least two occasions. Miss Shoji produced a  full tone in the  lyrical passages with quite a lot of vibrato which didn’t really suit the calm repose of the concerto's coda with its beautifully balanced echo of the work's opening melody.

From the opening sinister B flat minor upward flourish on trumpet,  Temirkanov took us directly into the powerful satirical/political tones of Shostakovich’s/Yevtushenko’s symphonic drama. Shostakovich’s Thirteenth Symphony is really an extended orchestral song cycle with bass (sometimes narrator) and male choir. It certainly has a symphonic feel to it with interlinking tonal/harmonic themes. And Temirkanov  emphasised the work's symphonic structureall the way through. This is certainly not the only way of doing this piece as Gergiev demonstrated in a much more rhetorical/operatic sounding performance at the Barbican in 2006 with his own marvellous ‘Mariinsky’ orchestra. But Temirkanov’s symphonic approach is arguably more in keeping with the sombre irony which pervades the work.  From it’s premiere in 1962 (under Kondrashin in Moscow)  this symphony has always courted a fair amount of controversy; Yevtushenko’s poem dealing, as it does, with anti-semitism, Nazism, genocide and political corruption. But the work is so singularly powerful in its message against  arrogance and abuses of power,  that it can stand as a grim warning in all contexts especially our own. The poem's mention of Anne Frank in the first movement is moving too, in a  more general political and ethical sense.

In line with Temirkanov’s conception,  Leiferkus  was a model of sustained empathy with the wisdom of the sung narrative throughout. Musically and vocally, he   never emphasised a point for it’s own sake, as some other excellent basses have done. Through the first movement,  ‘Babi Yar’,  Temirkanov maintained a more or less sustained line emphasising the grim bass tread which subtends the movement. The LSO demonstrated an obvious respect for the conductor's demands; although initially the strong pizzicato accents that  ground the opening narrative didn’t ‘sound’ as trenchant as they should, and as they certainly do in Temirkanov’s excellent recent recording of the work with his own St Petersburg forces. Also, the dramatic and massive brass counterpoint projections at the movement's cardinal climaxes lacked a sense of dynamic gradation; hammering out their chords as if they  were all at the same dynamic level.

The second movement ‘Humour’ could have come straight out of the composer's earlier controversial  opera ‘Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk’ in its cutting irony and vivid, carnivalesque sounding orchestration. Temirkanov was in his element here in his projection of the grotesque rhythmic inflections in brass and percussion; very slightly holding back at each of them  effecting just the right degree of added frisson. Here,  every celebration of laughter was a subversive ploy against all forms of political/imperial pretension and arrogance. All this  sounding positively Bakhtinian in the movement's stamping, sardonic  insistence on C major.  Leiferkus delivered each line with a quite amazing degree of empathy and vocal range. Needless to say his Russian pronunciation was a model of clarity and humorous / ironic inflection. The LSO managed all of this very well particularly in the brass department. There was some roughness in the cutting string figurations but this did not sound ‘too’ out of place here.

From the double slow movement incorporating ‘In the store’ ( a commentary on the resilience, suffering and strength of Russian women)  and ‘Fears’ ( their internalisation and extension of fear as normalised and infective)  up to the final ‘Careers’, orchestra, conductor, soloist and choir continuously  improved, as if all concerned were moved, inspired by this remarkable music. Temirkanov in particular,  seemed to radiate the music to players and audience without ever engaging in extra-musical gestures;the sign of a ‘real’ conductor.

Of particular note was the dark brooding tuba and lower brass initiating ‘Fears’; another reminder of Shostakovich’s continuing interest in Wagner's sounds, the tuba’s dark tone here coming straight out of  ‘Hagen’s watch’ from’ Götterdämmerung’ Act one. The slight vibrato wobble here actually added to the menacing tone.

The LSO men' s choir performed with quite amazing dramatic and lyric contrast, their Russian pronunciation sounding very clear and accurate. They didn’t have that extra grain (depth) heard in Temirkanov’s own St Petrersburg choir, but perhaps only a Russian choir can accomplish that.

The final ‘Careers’ with it’s sardonic commentary on Galileo, and the ironic and politically pertinent ‘ I make a career for myself by not making one’ were all very personal issues for the composer. As was the enigmatic major key gentle rocking melody in strings and woodwind which dies away ending the work inconclusively. Perhaps this is another reminder that the composer never fully resolved the ethical/aesthetic/political issues with which his ‘career’ as a composer was compromised.

As with the Gergiev performance mentioned earlier, Temirkanov, clearly moved by the music, the score of which he wisely used,  held a fermata of silence for several minutes before gesturing for audience applause. And also as in  the Gergiev performance,  the applause, when it came, seemed wholly inappropriate. As I commented then, I really think that with certain works the audience should be asked to be silent. Silence is something Shostakovich understood so well in musical and political terms and silence is a fitting memorial to ‘Babi Yar’, the victims of war, and to Shostakovich himself.

Geoff Diggines


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