This reissue takes us right back to one of Shostakovich’s
most authoritative interpreters. Yevgeny Mravinsky (1903-1988)
gave the first performances of no fewer than six Shostakovich
symphonies - numbers 5, 6, 8, 9, 10 and 12 - and though he didn’t
lead the première of the Eleventh symphony, he performed
it in Leningrad on 3 November 1957, just four days after it
had been unveiled in Moscow. Regis give no information about
the date of the recording beyond stating that it was “first
published in 1961”. However, in his very informative notes
Gavin Dixon says that this recording was set down in 1959, presumably
for the Melodiya label.
As you might expect, given that the source is a Soviet recording
made over fifty years ago, the sound is on the raw side at times.
However, I found nothing in the sound that detracted from the
performance; on the contrary, the sound plays its part in imparting
a sense of the history of the piece itself. Because the symphony
was first performed in 1957 and because it was inspired by the
unsuccessful revolution of 1905 in Russia it’s often been
thought that it may be the composer’s response to the
suppression of the 1956 Hungarian uprising. It’s possible
that that is indeed the case - at least up to a point. However
Gavin Dixon tells us that the symphony was originally intended
to mark the 50th anniversary of the 1905 uprising
but that personal preoccupations prevented Shostakovich from
finishing it on schedule though he had made a good deal of progress
on the work before the tumultuous events in Hungary.
If there was a subversive political agenda behind the work Shostakovich
managed to cover his tracks well: the work was a conspicuous
success both with the public and with officialdom and it was
awarded the Lenin Prize in 1958.
Mravinsky leads an imposing performance. The first movement,
‘The Palace Square’, opens in what I can only call
glacial expectancy though the rather close recording doesn’t
allow the orchestra to sound as hushed as is the case on, say,
Vasily Petrenko’s 2008 Naxos recording or, indeed, James
DePriest’s very eloquent 1988 reading with the Helsinki
Philharmonic on Delos; both of those are modern digital recordings.
However, any sonic limitations are more than offset by the brooding
intensity and tension that Mravinsky generates. Furthermore,
even when playing quietly, the Leningrad orchestra plays with
significant weight of tone. I think this must be a very difficult
movement for a conductor to bring off since it’s all about
atmosphere rather than development; but Mravinsky never lets
the music sag.
In the graphic second movement, ‘The 9th of
January’, Mravinsky whips up a real storm at times and
there’s huge power in the playing. The orchestral sound
features the traditional Russian brass timbres, which have now
largely vanished from the scene. Indeed, there’s a raw
edge to the orchestral sound - not to be confused with crudity
- that’s really appropriate for this music. During the
string fugue (from 10:46) the players really dig in and the
playing has tremendous intensity. The performance is viscerally
exciting and a very Russian sound - occasionally blaring - is
produced. The percussion-dominated climax (from 13:15) has burning
urgency - the pace is frenetic - and really does sound like
fusillades of shots. At 14:25 the music cuts off abruptly -
and Mravinsky’s cut-off is razor sharp - before a pianissimo
return to material from the first movement. This passage is
quite chilling; the protesting crowds of 1905 have been dispersed
- or cut down.
The third movement, ‘Eternal Memory’, stems from
an extended melody - a lament for the fallen - which begins
on the violas. Mravinsky builds this movement impressively,
achieving an impassioned main climax (from 7:32). The finale,
‘The Tocsin’, is something of an enigma. Superficially
it sounds like a musical depiction of a triumph for Soviet Socialist
Realism; but is it? As Gavin Dixon points out, the bells that
feature in this movement alternate between major and minor but
end on the minor. To my ears, it’s in some ways
the weakest movement in the work but here it is given a scalding
performance. The brass playing has raw power and there’s
a towering climax before, once again, the music sinks back into
another reprise of the glacial material from the first movement.
This presages an extended, bleak threnody for cor anglais. Mravinsky
takes this very broadly. His cor anglais player offers doleful
eloquence and this passage is a true lament, again indicating
this is no mere triumphalist movement - if there is triumph
it’s been hard won. After the lament the music picks up
speed once again and becomes very dramatic; the bass drum thwacks
sound like cannon shots. The conclusion is blazing and biting.
This is a great performance of a symphony that I’ve long
felt is underrated in the Shostakovich canon. In view of a
recent discussion on the MusicWeb International Message
Board I thought it would be interesting to compare this Mravinsky
recording with the aforementioned Vasily Petrenko recording
on Naxos, not least because these two recordings will compete
at about the same price point. The Petrenko disc wasn’t
one of those that I have appraised for MusicWeb International
but I bought it and think it has much to commend it though I
know it attracted some contrasting verdicts among my colleagues
(review
and review).
David Barker felt it stood up well amid the competition when
he compiled his Eleven
11s survey. It should be noted, however, that this Mravinsky
account wasn’t available to David at the time.
At the risk of making an obvious point, the Naxos recording
(2008) is sonically superior to the sound that the Soviet engineers
produced for Mravinsky fifty-one years before. Significantly,
the Naxos recording registers genuine pp playing; the
Mravinsky recording does not. Yet even here matters aren’t
quite that straightforward. The less refined and closer Melodiya
sound imparts an immediacy that’s at one with Mravinsky’s
interpretation. Some may feel, as I tend to do, that the Naxos
sound has the Liverpool orchestra set a bit too far back. The
playing in the Petrenko performance is assured and technically
excellent but it’s arguable that it’s a bit too
smooth. For instance, I mentioned the fugal passage for strings
in I. Petrenko’s orchestra, well though they play, are
nowhere near the level of hair-raising intensity of Mravinsky’s
superbly drilled Leningrad Philharmonic. Wind forward a little
in the same movement and Petrenko is impressive in the extended
climax section but he doesn’t achieve the electrifying
urgency of Mravinsky, nor is his cut-off after the climax quite
as abrupt as the effect that the older conductor achieves. Mravinsky’s
interpretation of I is appreciably more spacious than Petrenko’s;
he takes nearly two minutes longer. In IV the most telling comparison
lies in the cor anglais passage I mentioned earlier. Mravinsky
takes appreciably longer than Petrenko over this passage (from
8:39 to 12:10); in the newer recording it’s over half
a minute shorter (8:34 to 11:34). The Liverpool cor anglais
player, who plays most expressively, is more integrated into
the overall orchestral texture, which some may prefer; the Russian
player is rather in a spotlight. On the other hand, the relative
distancing of the Naxos recording lessens the intensity, I feel.
One final detail. At the very end of IV Petrenko allows the
bell chime to continue resonating after the rest of the orchestra
has fallen silent: Mravinsky does not.
After auditioning these two performances side by side I came
to the following conclusions. Petrenko’s recording has
much to commend it and I shall not lightly discard it; it makes
a good bargain-priced choice, if a safe one. However, Mravinsky
offers the less cultivated but surely authentic experience.
This is an interpretation of the time in which the symphony
appeared and, moreover, it’s by one of Shostakovich’s
greatest interpreters. Mravinsky offers an interpretation of
raw power which confronts the listener. I think I’d sum
up the comparison by suggesting that Petrenko plays the symphony
but Mravinsky lives it. This is one of those recordings
that’s an essential element in any Shostakovich collection.
John Quinn
Masterwork Index: Symphony
11
Leningrad Philharmonic Orchestra/Yevgeny Mravinsky 