With two discs from Olympia and one 
        from Laurel the symphonies of Alexander Lokshin 
        are slowly tightening their grip on the catalogue. 
         
        
Lokshin carries the burden 
          of being dubbed by Schnittke, Tischenko and 
          Shostakovich a ‘genius’ and ‘great composer’. 
          Siberian-born, he was driven by pogroms from 
          his remote township to the city of Novosibirsk. 
          He progressed from local studies to working 
          with Miaskovsky in Moscow. His dangerous fascination 
          with setting Baudelaire (viewed as decadent 
          by the Soviets) resulted in his expulsion 
          from the Moscow Conservatory. After war service 
          cut short by illness he returned to the fold 
          in Moscow but 1948 saw his expulsion yet again. 
          During these wilderness years he made his 
          money with various hack jobs including film 
          music and arranging. 
        
 
        
In 1957, as the political-cultural 
          thaw set in, he wrote his First Symphony using 
          the complete Latin Requiem text. All the symphonies 
          (and there are eleven of them) use words - 
          all that is apart from the Fourth. In the 
          other ten he variously set Rudyard Kipling 
          (superbly in the Third Symphony), Pushkin, 
          Blok (a poet also set by Yuri Shaporin in 
          his On the Field of Kullikovo - a work 
          whose Melodiya Svetlanov recording is in desperate 
          need of CD attention - do any readers have 
          this LP?), Camões and Shakespeare, 
          among others. 
        
 
        
His Fourth Symphony (his 
          only non-vocal symphony) is in the form of 
          a seamlessly fused introduction, theme and 
          six variations with a conclusion (all separately 
          banded here). The symphony accentuates protest 
          through harsh dissonance. There are a few 
          moments in which the protesting dissonance 
          relents. In variation 5 the clarinet rhapsodises 
          around a whistleable theme and in the next 
          variation it is the solo violin that provides 
          relaxation from the predominant rapacious 
          belligerence. 
        
 
        
The Three Faust Scenes 
          are in nine tracks (three movements) 
          and belong in the company of a Lokshin symphony 
          by virtue of its kinship with so many song-cycle 
          symphonies and the fact that the composer 
          occasionally referred to it as his ‘Symphony 
          No. 12’. It dates from a dozen years after 
          the Stretta and while by no means unsubtle 
          it is a work much easier to approach than 
          the Fourth Symphony. Dissonance still plays 
          its part but melodic communication, which 
          flits in rare motes and shards in the Fourth 
          Symphony, is absolutely central here. Tippett-like 
          melisma also plays its part (tr.11, 06.02) 
          recalling his British counterpart's Third 
          Symphony at least at that point. Ginastera 
          (Milonga) and Burgon (Requiem) 
          also crossed my mind as I listened to this 
          piece. He certainly does not sound like Shostakovich! 
          The Intermedia is an apt illustration 
          of the whole work with its drugged ecstatic 
          suggestion. Perhaps the Baudelaire inspiration 
          had struck deeper than anyone had guessed. 
          The setting develops a highly operatic heft 
          in variation 4 where the admirable Tabery 
          suddenly ascends into starry melodrama - here 
          is a composer who knows his In Questa Reggia. 
        
 
        
The words sung in Russian 
          are printed in Cyrillic with a side-by-side 
          translation in the notes. The background is 
          provided with admirable attention to detail 
          by Marina Lobanova. 
        
 
        
I know the Olympia discs 
          but am keen to review the Laurel disc if only 
          I can make contact with Laurel. 
        
 
        
Roll on the next BIS Lokshin 
          chapter and let's hope that the next disc 
          tackles the Third Symphony setting Kipling 
          (including a horror-struck Danny Deever 
          in its most humanist setting ever) for 
          solo baritone, chorus and orchestra. It is 
          a rugged work of exciting contrasts and is 
          highly accessible in the manner of Oedipus 
          Rex mixed with 1960s choral Penderecki. 
          It will come as little surprise to hear that 
          the version I know is a radio broadcast from 
          circa 1980 with the BBCSO conducted by Rozhdestvensky. 
        
 
        
This represents a promising 
          start to a project that I trust will result 
          in a symphonic intégrale from BIS. 
          There is no competition so if you have a taste 
          for a challenging late romantic modernism 
          do not hesitate. 
        
 
         
        
Rob Barnett 
          
        
 
        
see Lokshin 
          website