This latest instalment in Vasily Petrenko’s Shostakovich symphony 
                  cycle features one of his most intriguing works – the Sixth 
                  Symphony – and what is probably his weakest – the Twelfth. I’ve 
                  only recently reviewed 
                  Petrenko’s coupling of the First and Third symphonies and I 
                  was intrigued to see that these new recordings stem from the 
                  same sessions. The Sixth was recorded at the same time as the 
                  Third Symphony while the Twelfth comes from the same sessions 
                  that produced Petrenko’s fine account of the First Symphony. 
                  Not surprisingly, therefore, the same comments that I made in 
                  the previous review about the standards of playing and recorded 
                  sound apply here also. 
                    
                  What are we to make of Shostakovich’s Sixth Symphony and, in 
                  particular, its unusual structure? It consists of three movements. 
                  The first is a substantial Largo, which dominates the work. 
                  In this performance it lasts for 19:45 and so occupies well 
                  over fifty percent of the length of Petrenko’s reading. Furthermore, 
                  the Largo seems in many ways to be completely at odds with the 
                  character of the two succeeding movements. Arguably, the symphony 
                  seems unbalanced – though I hasten to add I’m not denigrating 
                  it on that account. The design was clearly deliberate and I 
                  wonder what Shostakovich intended by it. 
                    
                  Many passages in the Largo are cruelly exposed and will mercilessly 
                  betray any frailties of tuning, intonation or balance. The music 
                  is also a stern test of the powers of concentration of both 
                  conductor and players. Happily, if unsurprisingly, Petrenko 
                  and the RLPO surmount all its challenges. In particular I admire 
                  the way Petrenko sustains the tension. This must be particularly 
                  difficult to do in passages such as that between 12:05 and 13:39 
                  where Shostakovich’s writing achieves something akin to musical 
                  stasis other than the flutes circling above in the chilly upper 
                  regions. Incidentally, the playing of the flautists in this 
                  episode is but one example of the fine solo playing from the 
                  RLPO’s principals; another is the doleful cor anglais solo that 
                  comes earlier (7:23-8:15). Interrupted by a few climaxes, the 
                  overriding impression left by the music is one of glacial arctic 
                  wastes and vast open spaces. It’s a profound but very enigmatic 
                  movement and in this compelling performance the listener’s attention 
                  is held, which is no small feat given the often spare, even 
                  forbidding textures and thematic material. 
                    
                  The following Allegro scampers along for much of the time and 
                  there are frequent examples of Shostakovich’s sardonic side. 
                  The scoring is infinitely more colourful. The performance has 
                  tremendous spirit, not least on account of the players’ excellent 
                  articulation. The RLPO displays agility and precision throughout 
                  the movement. I love the insouciant manner in which the music 
                  is delivered in the last couple of minutes, and not least the 
                  delicious pay-off at the end. There follows another quick movement, 
                  this time marked Presto. From Richard Whitehouse’s interesting 
                  note I learned that this movement was encored when Mravinsky 
                  and the Leningrad Philharmonic gave the first performance. He 
                  also tells us that the composer was particularly proud of this 
                  finale. On the surface at least this movement seems to be something 
                  of a merry dance – though with Shostakovich one can never be 
                  sure that all is as it seems – and the music seems a world away 
                  from the mood of the opening Largo. The deftness of the RLPO 
                  is admirable and the performance certainly rounds off in great 
                  style what is a very fine reading of the entire work. 
                    
                  Nothing that I say in the following paragraphs must be taken 
                  as a criticism of the performers. However, I’m afraid that, 
                  even though I’m a great admirer of Shostakovich’s symphonies 
                  I find it hard to discern many redeeming features in the Twelfth, 
                  a work that I first encountered back in the 1960s through Georges 
                  Prêtre’s Philharmonia recording but which I’ve successfully 
                  avoided for many years. It seems to me to lack any real development 
                  in any of the four movements, which are played without a break. 
                  Worse still, the thematic material is, at best, unmemorable 
                  and, at worst, banal. It occurred to me while listening to this 
                  performance that the music might be better suited as the accompaniment 
                  to a film. For example, the second movement bears the title 
                  ‘Razliv’ after the name of a village where Lenin hid after his 
                  return to Petrograd. In some respects this is the best music 
                  in the work in that some passages are expressive – though nowhere 
                  near the quality of expression that one finds in the slow movement 
                  of the Sixth. But, for all that, nothing actually seems to happen. 
                  The music just drifts on, mainly in eerie quietness. If it were 
                  to be heard as the accompaniment to film of a poverty-stricken 
                  early twentieth century Russian village or to pictures of a 
                  bleak wintry landscape in that country then what one hears would 
                  probably enhance the visual images. However, heard in isolation, 
                  the music seems to go nowhere. 
                    
                  Mind you, that seems preferable to the other movements in which 
                  Shostakovich depicts respectively ‘Revolutionary Petrograd’; 
                  ‘Aurora’ (after the warship from which the Winter Palace was 
                  shelled at the start of the Bolshevik Revolution); and ‘The 
                  Dawn of Humanity’, a title which, even before one has heard 
                  the music suggests – all too correctly - a piece of Soviet Communist 
                  Party hack writing. I’m afraid that the musical invention in 
                  these movements, the finale in particular, is feeble. I know 
                  that the Seventh and Eleventh Symphonies have their detractors 
                  – though I’m not among them, even though I recognise the weak 
                  points in both works – but those two symphonies are infinitely 
                  superior to the thin gruel that Shostakovich – for whatever 
                  motives – dished out here. 
                    
                  Petrenko and the RLPO do their very best for the work and their 
                  commitment never wavers; nor does the excellence of the playing 
                  falter. Others may find this a less empty work than I do in 
                  which case they will find that this performance delivers full 
                  value. 
                    
                  Happily, as Naxos discs are relatively inexpensive one can still 
                  invest for the sake of the performance of the Sixth Symphony, 
                  which is what I recommend that readers do. I shall certainly 
                  return to Petrenko’s fine version of that symphony but I doubt 
                  I shall often listen again to the egregious Twelfth. 
                    
                
John Quinn
 
                  
              
Reviews of the Petrenko Shostakovich cycle on MusicWeb International
Symphonies 1 and 3 
Symphonies 5 and 9
Symphony 8
Symphony 10
Symphony 11 and an alternative view