Dmitri SHOSTAKOVICH (1906-1975)
24 Preludes and Fugues op.87 (1950/1951)
Roger Woodward (piano)
rec. London, May-June 1975. ADD
CELESTIAL HARMONIES 14302-2 [53:53 + 71:51]
Dedication. That is the word that repeatedly springs to mind re-encountering
this superb set more than thirty years after the original release. I have
to plead guilty to the fact that it had become rather eclipsed – wrongly so
– in my mind by the twin factors of the rise of the CD and the appearance
of the Gramophone award-winning version on Hyperion from Tatiana Nikolayeva.
My copy of the original RCA release on LP languishes somewhere in my attic
in all its mid-1970s graphic glory where I doubt I have listened to it in
more than twenty years. Such was the critical stir caused by the Hyperion
release that this Woodward performance became something of the moon to Nikolayeva’s
sun. Undoubtedly they represent strikingly different approaches to this powerful
and important work but I feel equally valid.
With Shostakovich, perhaps more than any composer, context plays such an important
part of ‘understanding’ his work. The genesis of this work is well-known but
worth a brief reprise. Shostakovich was asked to be part of the judging panel
at the Leipzig piano competition in 1950 which in part celebrated the 200th
anniversary of Bach’s death. The winning pianist was Tatiana Nikolayeva. On
returning to Moscow Shostakovich was inspired to write this cycle in an extraordinary
creative spurt from October 1950 to March 1951 consulting regularly with the
pianist who ultimately gave the first performance. Clearly Bach and the performances
given by the remarkable Nikolayeva were direct inspirations but I think there
is another deeper creative compulsion at work here. Around 1950 both artistically
and for his life Shostakovich was just hanging on. If you look at the list
of his opus numbers for this time the works that surround the Op.87 of these
Preludes and Fugues are in the main party hack work; Op. 81: Song of the Forests,
Op. 82: Music to the film The Fall of Berlin, Op. 83: String Quartet No. 4
in D major, Op. 84: Two Romances on Verses by Lermontov, Op. 85: Music to
the film Byelinsky, Op. 86: Four Songs to Words by Dolmatovsky, Op. 87: Twenty-Four
Preludes and Fugues for piano, Op. 88: Ten Poems on Texts by Revolutionary
Poets, Op. 89: Music to the film The Unforgettable Year 1919, Op. 90: The
Sun Shines on Our Motherland. It has been long acknowledged that the medium
of the String Quartet was for Shostakovich the sanctuary for many of his most
private musical thoughts – that aside this can seen as a pretty barren three
years. A case of surviving until better times arrived. In that context perhaps
these Preludes should be viewed as a retreat back into the world of ‘pure’
abstract music of which Bach was the acknowledged master. Don’t get me wrong,
hearing Woodward does not make me admire or value Nikolayeva any less but
the almost detached austerity of Woodward’s approach seems to me now extraordinarily
powerful and compelling. The most obvious and indeed simplistic comparison
is one of timings; Woodward needs a few minutes over two hours to complete
the cycle, Nikolayeva takes an additional forty minutes. For sure Woodward
is patently quicker but that is not the abiding difference. Woodward presents
this very objectively as absolute music. He is masterful at dissecting out
the complex polyphony of Shostakovich’s writing and in doing so he is quite
happy to present this music in a bleak almost harsh manner. Cumulatively over
the two hour span this makes for a ferociously demanding listen. To the point
where I would say that in its intensity and resolutely pursued vision this
is a set that makes considerable demands on the listener. But surely that
is how it should be. Shostakovich, at his finest is not a comfortable composer
and his appeal for listeners is his extraordinary ability to have wrested
art of power and truth and indeed beauty from a moral abyss. Another side
benefit of listening to this work again is how it reinforces my opinion about
just what a technically brilliant composer Shostakovich was. His denigrators
will point all too eagerly at the film scores and populist work and even the
symphonies as being crude and ‘obvious’. This cycle is a triumph of economy
of utterance allied to compositional virtuosity.
Woodward has a steely technique fully capable of overcoming the many technical
hurdles Shostakovich places in his way and at the tempi he chooses many of
the faster passages are giddily exciting. But I particularly admire the unmannered
purity, the unadorned simplicity free of manner or artifice that he brings
to the ‘plainer’ music – the 20th Fugue in C minor [CD2 track 8]
is a beautiful example of this – Woodward’s playing is all poise and calmly
measured grace. And yet here is the paradox, it is impossible not to feel
that there is a sea-tide of emotion boiling away behind the calm façade of
this mammoth work and again Woodward is superb at momentarily pulling aside
the curtain of reserve to reveal what lies behind. There are too many profound
delights to be had in this set to point to any one passage in preference to
another. Likewise, to chose between Woodward or Nikolayeva – or indeed the
other great players who have recorded the entire cycle – would be irrelevant
and a disservice. Surely one of the defining characteristics of a great work
of art in any genre is its ability to be recreated or reinterpreted in widely
differing ways. For the moment I would have to say that I find Woodward’s
approach chimes most closely and most often with what I perceive the truth
that lies behind the notes to be.
Aside from the music-making pleasures this set affords I would seriously commend
collectors to read the liner-notes that Woodward has supplied. This extends
far beyond the standard remit of liner notes and expands on the history of
the work as well as its place in the narrative of Woodward’s own performing
life. It’s a personal, involving, interesting and convincing exposition of
Woodward’s approach to the work and helps to go a long way to clarify why
Woodward made the musical choices he did. Indeed the presentation of the whole
set by Celestial Harmonies is to be commended right down to the aptly austere
cover with Shostakovich’s DSCH monogram picked out in a Bach-like Gothic font.
My single less than positive observation is that the piano as recorded is
not as rich or euphonious as one might have expected. Woodward highlights
in the notes what a fine instrument – a Bösendorfer Imperial – he used. As
reproduced I felt there is a touch of the clangorous at the highest dynamics
and the bass was not as rich as one might expect. However, the benefit of
this is that the many less heavily scored polyphonic passages come through
with a crystalline clarity which shows off Woodward’s superb articulation
and beautifully even touch to great effect.
“A warm welcome back…” is a reviewer’s platitude all too often applied and
one I am sure I have been guilty of using. But in this instance it really
is a pleasure to rediscover in all its grandeur one of the peaks of the 20th
Century piano repertoire in a performance of such power and insight.
Nick Barnard
A pleasure to rediscover in all its grandeur one of the peaks of the 20th
Century piano repertoire in a performance of such power and insight.
see also review by Dominy
Clements