This is a live performance
of an important piece. Boris Tishchenko’s
Seventh Symphony, here receiving its
world première recording, is
a demanding work, and not only technically.
Post-Shostakovich juxtapositions of
diverse musics take both listener and
performer on a helter-skelter ride and
sometimes it does actually sound as
if you’re at the carnival! Tishchenko,
famously, studied with Shostakovich
at the Leningrad Conservatory, where
he is now a Professor, from 1962-65,
having previously been under Galina
Ustvolskaya at the Leningrad Musical
College (1954-55). The over-riding influence
is indeed Shostakovich, although some
Prokofiev is also occasionally discernible
(around 1’50 in the fourth movement,
for example). What is for sure is that
Tishchenko’s compositional confidence
is mightily impressive, and that he
is not a man to pull his punches.
The first movement
establishes a music of juxtapositions.
A jovial clarinet, itself a retort to
the muted trumpet of the very opening,
gives out an appealing dance, the rhythmic
aspect emphasised by pizzicato strings.
Jazz overtones appear from time to time,
as do blatantly populist passages (e.g.
around 7’15). Soviet jazz is a characteristic
of the second movement, really quite
riotous in its irreverent cheek - I
defy you not to smile. The climax of
these antics comes with a vamp-till-ready
piano against a plain silly xylophone
(1’44ff) - all of this moves
towards an essentially good-natured
anarchy.
Necessary contrast
comes in the form of the third movement
(no tempo indications are given for
any of the movements). Woodwind writing
is strikingly beautiful, right from
the initial, snaky oboe solo. The emotive
language is slightly distanced (à
la Neo-Classical Stravinsky), giving
Tishchenko the opportunity for an extended
and gradual build-up; this movement
lasts 11’08. A bassoon-dominated passage
around the seven-minute mark is notably
effective, as is the haunting close,
with the call of a clarinet answered
by muted horns.
The ghostly, disembodied,
intermittently dancing fourth movement
leads to the piping piccolo of the finale,
a movement with a real sense of rhythmic
play. Tishchenko presents a whirligig
of commotion, which along with simpler
passages nevertheless similarly imbued
with a love of life itself, leads to
positively manic percussion towards
the end.
It is not every day
in my reviewing work that I hear a piece
that I immediately want to hear again,
but this is one. The Moscow Philharmonic
plays its heart out for Yablonsky, who
himself seems at one with the composer.
Sometimes, exploration of the fringe
repertoire comes up trumps, and this
is one such occasion. At super-budget
price, it seems almost criminal not
to investigate …
Naxos’ chosen cover
picture is very effective indeed, an
‘Urban Landscape’ brought to life by
almost-but-not-quite vibrant colours
(by Ilya Ivanovich Mashkov, 1901-1944).
Alas, Richard Whitehouse’s notes are
hard going, and irritating to boot.
There’s only a limited amount of times
I can take ‘this happens, then this
happens, then that happens before the
second thing that happened, happens
again’.
Other Tishchenko discs
of note include a Fifth Symphony by
the USSR Ministry of Culture Symphony
Orchestra under Gennadi Rozhdestvensky
on Melodyia MCD213 and Olympia discs
of the Second Violin Concerto (OCD123)
and the First and Fourth String Quartets
(OCD547). An intriguingly titled ‘Piano
Sonata with Bells’ appears on an Albany
disc (TROY096); the Fifth Piano Sonata
is on TROY135. A work list up to Op.
127 appears at http://home.wanadoo.nl/ovar/tishchen.htm.
Colin Clarke
Moscow Philharmonic Orchestra/Dmitri Yablonsky.
