Many years ago I read 
                an essay by Vaughan Williams lamenting 
                that critics seem unable to acknowledge 
                that German style is just that, and 
                that musicians of other countries do 
                and should write music in styles other 
                than the German style. He avowed that 
                German style isn’t better, it isn’t 
                "correct" and all other styles 
                "incorrect"; it’s just that 
                at a time when most symphony conductors 
                and soloists were German, this was the 
                music they admired most and played most 
                and worked at most. He called for critics 
                and music-lovers to be aware of other 
                styles and judge them according to their 
                own lights. This was also a rallying 
                cry in Russia at the end of the Nineteenth 
                Century against the invasion of German 
                Style in Russia when a native Russian 
                Style would be more appropriate for 
                Russian music. To the Russians of that 
                time Anton Rubinstein and Tchaikovsky 
                were the epitome of German style invading 
                Holy Mother Russia, and their works 
                were savaged in the Russian press for 
                being too German, even as they were 
                savaged in the German Press for being 
                too Russian. It’s no wonder Tchaikovsky 
                had anxiety problems. Dvořák’s 
                most “German” Symphony is his No. 
                9, "From the New World," which 
                is his most popular and widely played, 
                but his other symphonies in the "non-German" 
                style are equally masterful, and are 
                progressively becoming better appreciated. 
                It may be the current interest in world 
                music that is finally diluting the influence 
                of the German definition of well crafted 
                music. 
              
 
              
The symphonies of Glazunov, 
                and these piano works, show that Glazunov 
                was the master of the whole range of 
                styles. As you can see above, some of 
                his piano works are Preludes and 
                Fugues, but there is a variety of 
                other forms as well. Anyone of any critical 
                persuasion could find some of his works 
                to love. His "German" Sixth 
                Symphony and Eighth Symphony have generally 
                been most popular in the West whereas 
                his Fifth Symphony has been most popular 
                in Russia. Like most Elgar and most 
                Vaughan Williams, the Glazunov Symphony 
                No. 5 is completely in the "non-Germanic" 
                style. No sonata form. No theme-development-recapitulation. 
                Each phrase of the symphony arises directly 
                from what has come before, as the circular 
                waves spreading on a pond, each centered 
                on the point where the stone hit the 
                water, arise from the preceding wave 
                and just continue until they hit the 
                shore. This metaphor was once used in 
                an essay to describe the form of a William 
                Byrd Fantasia. It is to be noted 
                that William Byrd did not write keyboard 
                fugues, yet his counterpoint is masterful. 
              
 
              
Glazunov did write 
                keyboard fugues. With the incredible 
                popularity of Bach’s Well Tempered 
                Clavier, every pianist since the 
                middle of the eighteenth century has 
                learned to play it, learned to play 
                by means of it. The temptation 
                to try to imitate the master has for 
                most of them proven to be irresistible. 
                In fact Schubert and Wagner seem to 
                be the only notable exceptions. Mozart, 
                Mendelssohn, Chopin, Tchaikovsky, Brahms, 
                Rachmaninov, Taneyev, Respighi, Vaughan 
                Williams, and Shostakovich have all 
                tried their hand. A few stopped at the 
                writing of Preludes*, writing 
                few if any fugues to follow, and some 
                wrote many more fugues than preludes, 
                e.g. Beethoven and Liszt. One reason 
                why such pieces were for a time not 
                played frequently is that during the 
                Victorian era such pieces were considered 
                "mere" exercises, to be sharply 
                distinguished from those "inspired" 
                compositions where God entered the composing 
                process** and dictated the music, compositions 
                where the composer’s immortal soul could 
                shine forth unencumbered by pedantic 
                artifice and fussy intellectualism. 
                I’m not making this up, you know. 
              
 
              
But, pedantic artifice 
                and fussy intellectualism or no, I have 
                always been fascinated by these Bach 
                imitations and not solely because they 
                are in many cases rather good music, 
                or at the very least fascinating in 
                the insight they give as to how Bach 
                appeared to later generations. 
              
 
              
Since one hears very 
                little of Glazunov’s piano music, it 
                is surprising that it is so good, receiving 
                here the benefit of exceptionally beautiful 
                performances and recordings. The Op. 
                62 is a substantial work, perhaps the 
                most accessible of the Preludes and 
                Fugues. You can download the score 
                from www.sheetmusicarchive.net. 
                The remaining ones require listening 
                through a few times to reveal their 
                wonders. The preludes feature extensive 
                runs and arpeggiation. The fugue subjects 
                feature stepwise harmonies which lead 
                to much parallel and contrary motion 
                chromatic passage work during the working 
                out, so the overall shape of the music 
                is much like that of Rachmaninov and 
                Taneyev. Quoting Shostakovich, the notes 
                say Glazunov was a committed contrapuntalist 
                in developing his orchestral textures. 
                But he was not really a fugue writer 
                like Tchaikovsky or Taneyev, but more 
                a creator of well woven, implicitly 
                contrapuntal sonic tapestries like Schubert 
                or Rachmaninov. Glazunov’s fugues contain 
                much broken counterpoint, little canon, 
                and rely a lot on transitions and episodes. 
              
 
              
Chopin represents an 
                infusion of Slavic musical sensibility 
                into Western musical style, but Chopin 
                was so morbid, and gave rise to Schumann 
                who was even more morbid. What Glazunov 
                gives us is a Chopin, not only without 
                tears, but with magic and glitter, sunshine 
                on new fallen snow, graceful as it is 
                powerful. Glazunov (and Rimsky-Korsakov) 
                could write light music of immense profundity, 
                similar to the child’s vision we find 
                in Mozart, only looking east. First 
                Debussy and then Stravinsky took this 
                style back to Paris and revolutionized 
                Western music.*** 
              
 
              
By 1903 when Zimbalist 
                was studying at the St. Petersburg Conservatory 
                Glazunov was "corpulent". 
                His bi-polar alcoholism would lead him 
                to lock his office door for days at 
                a time, during which time the empty 
                vodka bottles left outside would be 
                regularly refilled by the servant staff. 
                After a few days, he would emerge, all 
                smiles, ready to continue working as 
                conservatory director. He had a difficult 
                and stressful job: Rimsky-Korsakov was 
                politically liberal and academically 
                conservative; violin professor Auer 
                (the Tsar’s personal violin soloist) 
                was politically conservative and academically 
                liberal.**** Counterpoint instructor 
                Liadov cut more classes than his students 
                did. The ever charming Glazunov moved 
                the treacherous line between all these 
                shoals and kept these temperaments working 
                together. Both Glazunov and Rimsky-Korsakov 
                struggled to evade the effects of the 
                Tsarist ban on Jews residing in St. 
                Petersburg so that the talented Jewish 
                students Zimbalist and Heifetz could 
                continue in their studies — free of 
                tuition charge — at the Conservatory. 
                In the midst of this Glazunov produced 
                his Violin Concerto; the student Zimbalist 
                played the premier, Professor Auer being 
                politically indisposed. 
              
 
              
Glazunov could be stubborn; 
                when Prokofiev won the piano prize, 
                Glazunov flatly refused to award it, 
                and had to be tricked into walking on 
                stage with the prize. Glazunov was most 
                likely soddenly drunk in 1895 when he 
                so badly botched the conducting of Rachmaninov’s 
                First Symphony, leaving the orchestra 
                to struggle incapably on as best it 
                could by itself, and sending Rachmaninov 
                into an emotional collapse. According 
                to Testament, by the time Shostakovich 
                was a student, about 1918, Glazunov 
                had retired into a permanent alcoholic 
                haze from which he never thereafter 
                emerged. 
              
 
              
Therefore we should 
                not be surprised that Glazunov’s music 
                varies widely in mood. The Triumphal 
                March uses the theme that was the 
                marching tune of the victorious Government 
                forces in the American Civil War, with 
                the words "John Brown’s body lies 
                a-molding in his grave..." The 
                Waltzes are gorgeously lilting, seeming 
                to float effortlessly off the ground. 
                The longest works, the two Piano Sonatas 
                and the Theme and Variations, 
                written at about the time of the Violin 
                Concerto, are the most substantial works 
                in the set, and all feature very free 
                use of form. He was a courageous explorer 
                in his youth, only to see others, more 
                daring but not necessarily more talented, 
                move rapidly far past him in his maturity. 
                By the time he had finished writing 
                his symphonies he was considered an 
                old stick-in-the-mud by the new revolutionaries 
                Skriabin and Prokofiev and their champions. 
              
 
              
* Before you put Chopin 
                entirely in this category you should 
                hear his Prelude and Fugue in a minor 
                played on the harpsichord. Revenge is 
                sweet. 
              
 
              
** Ever the Victorian 
                composer, Stravinsky said of Rite 
                of Spring, "I wrote what I 
                heard .... I was the vessel through 
                which [this music] passed." Quoted 
                many places, notably recently in Stravinsky: 
                The Second Exile ... by Stephen 
                Walsh. Stravinsky also said, "I 
                detest Beethoven," but Rite 
                of Spring borrows heavily from Beethoven’s 
                Third, Seventh, and Ninth Symphonies. 
                Check it out. 
              
 
              
*** Vaughan Williams 
                gives the impression of being wholly 
                original and 100% British while there 
                is not a single great composer from 
                whom he didn’t learn something important. 
              
 
              
**** Auer later said 
                that Zimbalist, his first truly great 
                student, became a great musician because 
                he cut so many classes. This and more 
                from the excellent biography Efrem 
                Zimbalist: a Life by Roy Malan, 
                ISBN 1-57467-091-3. 
              
 
              
Paul Shoemaker 
                 
              
alternative reviews
                Volume 1 Colin 
                Clarke  
              
Volume 2 Colin 
                Clarke  
              
Volume 3 Paul 
                Shoemaker