How to Throw Shade at Commies: A Primer

IMG_6568.jpeg

After the Russian Revolution and the rise of the Communist party, many famous Russian composers were forced to flee the country, including the likes of Sergei Rachmaninoff, Igor Stravinsky, and Sergei Prokofiev.  Those who remained were put to work in service of the State.  Strict artistic controls were imposed, dictating that art was to reflect Russian heritage and Communist ideals in both style and substance. Those who deviated were subjected to censorship, reassignment of profession, or even imprisonment.

Dmitri Shostakovich was only twelve years old at the time of the Revolution, and it was these formative teenage years that shaped his disdain for Communism.  Despite failing an exam on Marxist methodology while at Petrograd Conservatory, his musical talent and compositional proclivity were undeniable, and he was quickly adopted into the state apparatus as an asset for Soviet artistic expression. Shostakovich worked his way to prominence delicately, battling with the authorities for the soul of his compositional style. While always pushing harmonic and formalistic boundaries, he was careful to step back into a more conservative approach when the criticism became too hostile, the most famous example of this being his 5th Symphony.  Coming on the heels of his 4th Symphony which had to be withdrawn by the composer after denunciation by state-owned publications, Shostakovich penned the very conservative 5thsymphony, characterizing it as “A Soviet artist’s creative response to just criticism.”

As the years passed and Shostakovich continued a prolific output of music, he became the most famous composer in all of the U.S.S.R.  As World War II began coming to a close, the Communists commissioned a symphony from Shostakovich to celebrate the victory of the Soviet forces over the Nazis.  Not only would this have been a major work based on this context alone, it also was going to be Shostakovich’s ninth symphony.  In the history of the Western canon, many composers’ ninth symphonies have been considered their magnum opuses, from Beethoven to Mahler to Bruckner to Dvořák.  Knowing this, the State expected something large and grand, constructed in the Russian tradition that would bring glory to the Motherland and reinforce Communist artistic expression.  What Shostakovich delivered was…. something not quite that.

Premiered by the Leningrad Philharmonic Orchestra on November 3rd 1945, the symphony was also broadcast on live radio.  It wasn’t long, though, before the Soviet critics began ripping it to shreds, slamming the symphony for its “ideological weakness” and its failure to “reflect the true spirit of the people of the Soviet Union.”  The work was eventually banned by the Central Censorship Board.  To understand why, let’s look at how Shostakovich designed his mighty 9th symphony.

For starters, the entire symphony is notable because of its brevity, a complete performance lasting only about twenty-five minutes.  Contrast this with Beethoven’s 9th, which is over an hour, or Mahler’s 9th, which is nearly an hour and a half.  What is most striking, however, is the musical substance itself.  Five movements in total, the first three could best be characterized as circus music: melodies that flit into nowhere, an almost oom-pah accompaniment from the brass and woodwinds, and comically-executed percussion seem to characterize a musical temperament that is anything but serious.  The fourth movement, however, takes a very different turn, oscillating slowly and dramatically between the deep and foreboding brass, and a lone bassoon melody, playing uncomfortably in its highest register.  With this momentary respite out of the way, the fifth movement returns to the frivolity of the first three movements.

Western critics analyzing the symphony have interpreted its construction as very intentionally symbolic.  The first three movements seem to be an explicit mockery of the political system under which he was forced to compose, conjuring up a sardonic façade of “business as usual” that the Communists wished to project.  The fourth movement, in contrast, was where Shostakovich allows the façade to fall away, revealing the harsh and cruel domination of the totalitarian State (represented by the brass) as it suffocates the individual (represented by the bassoon) under its brutality.  The choice by Shostakovich to place the bassoon in its highest register gives the instrument an entirely new character, making it sound strained and uncomfortable as it helplessly meanders through the discordant melodies.  The return to the character of the first three movements in the symphony’s finale leaves the listener unsettled. Having seen the true character of the artist’sexpression in the fourth movement, this recapitulation seems no longer bizarre or trivial like it may have at first, but rather it has taken on a sinister quality.  “I’ll wear the mask you’re foisting upon me, but underneath, my soul is crying out.”

Knowing this context, take a listen to Shostakovich’s 9thsymphony.  A brilliant, not-so-subtle jab at the Soviet authorities that has stood the test of time.  This performance is with the Vienna Philharmonic, Leonard Bernstein conducting.  The 4thmovement, Largo, starts at 18:12 in this recording: