Myaskovsky website
http://www.myaskovsky.ru/
Myaskovsky’s epic Sixth
Symphony has a strong claim - alongside
the Cello Concerto and the 21st
Symphony - to be his finest work. First
performed at the Bolshoi Theatre under
Nikolai Golovanov on 4 May 1924, it
created something of a sensation. The
applause apparently went on for fifteen
minutes before the unassuming composer
appeared on the rostrum. He had to return
a further five times and had a laurel
wreath placed over his shoulders. Reports
suggest that many of the audience were
reduced to tears at the conclusion of
the symphony.
The symphony, which
is the longest of Myaskovsky’s 27, moves
at a high level of inspiration, contains
some of his most poetic music - the
heartbreaking flute passage heard during
the trio section of the scherzo second
movement. It concludes with a deeply
moving - although optional - choral
section which is almost unique in Myaskovsky’s
output, illustrating the moment when
the soul leaves a dead body.
In Alexei Ikonikov’s
biography of the composer, written during
Myaskovsky’s lifetime and translated
into English during the Second World
War, the work is described by the composer
as representing "the death of a
revolutionary hero and the solemn honours
paid to him by the people in farewell."
The revolutionary credentials of the
symphony would seem to be reinforced
by the use of two songs of the French
Revolution, the Carmagnole and
Ça ira in the Finale.
It must, however, be remembered that
Ikonikov’s biography, written with the
cooperation of Myaskovsky, was published
during the Stalinist era when creative
artists had to be very guarded in conforming
to politically correct explanations
for their work.
M. Segelman, in the
very informative booklet notes accompanying
this new release, reveals the extraordinary
fact that, in 1918, Myaskovsky witnessed
his father being shot dead by a revolutionary
soldier. General Myaskovsky, like his
son, had served in the Tsar’s army.
Although it is always
difficult to determine the influences
which may be operating at a conscious
or sub-conscious level in the mind of
a creative artist, such an experience
as witnessing the murder of his father
cannot, in my view, have failed to motivate
Myaskovsky in this work. Infact, Segelman
goes as far as suggesting that the Sixth
Symphony is "a requiem (for) his
father ...."
What of the performance
itself?
When I first became
aware of this recording I assumed that
this was a reissue of the famous Kondrashin
performance from 1959 on Russian Disc
and I was therefore delighted to find
that this is, in fact, a much more recent
version from 1978. This must have been
one of Kondrashin’s last performances
in the USSR as, in the same month as
the recording (December 1978), he left
the Soviet Union on a concert tour of
the Netherlands, never to return to
his home country.
What distinguishes
this Melodiya version from the earlier
performance is, firstly, the far superior
quality of the recording; you can simply
hear so much more detail than in the
1959 version and secondly the significantly
faster tempo. Remarkably, there have
now been six CD versions of Myaskovsky’s
Sixth Symphony although the excellent
Myaskovsky website suggests the possible
existence of a second Stankovsky version
with the Bratislava Radio Symphony Orchestra.
Kondrashin’s 1978 performance is the
only one which comes in at under an
hour. Dudarova’s Olympia version is
the longest at over 70 minutes. Kondrashin
has a unique authority in this repertoire
and his performance possesses a quite
gripping sense of urgency from the very
opening of the work. The First Movement
ends in the deepest gloom and the more
expansive recording certainly adds to
the sombre atmosphere with details like
the funereal drumbeats coming over much
more clearly than on the earlier Kondrashin
version.
The Third Movement
"Andante appassionato" is,
if anything, more deeply felt in the
1978 recording and the dramatic entry
of the choir in the last movement comes
over superbly. My only disappointment
is that the crucial scherzo flute passage,
mentioned earlier, is taken at simply
too fast a speed here. It is a moment
of supreme beauty which seems to suggest
a heartfelt longing for an irretrievably
lost past. Here, unfortunately, it simply
sounds rushed and therefore loses much
of its impact. In my view this is the
main drawback of what is otherwise a
gripping and often deeply moving performance.
What of the competition?
Kondrashin’s earlier Russian Disc recording
still seems to be available and is the
best performance on CD but its impact
is slightly blunted through the age
of the recording, Dudarova’s Olympia
version is solid but underpowered, Svetlanov’s
recording with the Russian Federation
Academic Symphony Orchestra, also on
Olympia would be a top recommendation
were it not for the absence of the (optional)
choir in the final section which means
that there is a slightly, less than
usual, spine-tingling apotheosis to
the work. I always felt that the Stankovsky
Czechoslovak version on Marco Polo was
underrated on its initial release (1991).
True, it is not as gripping or powerful
as the two Kondrashin recordings or
Svetlanov’s for that matter, but it
does contain moments of great insight
(the flute passage for instance) and,
in its understated way, lends itself
to repeated listening. Like so many
other worthwhile Marco Polo releases,
I hope that this recording appears on
Naxos in due course.
This leaves Neeme Järvi’s
Gothenburg recording on DG, which is
perhaps the current front-runner. The
recording is spectacular, allowing you
to hear much more detail than in nearly
all the other versions. The performance
is very fine indeed if not quite generating
the same level of visceral excitement
as found in the Kondrashin and Svetlanov
versions which were, after all, made
with Russian orchestras.
Having scoured the
record shops of Moscow and Leningrad
(as it was then called) in the mid-1980s
for records by Myaskovsky, only to come
away with a couple of LPs of his string
quartets and none of his symphonies,
it is a matter of considerable joy that
so many recordings now exist of his
music although it was a tragedy that
Olympia was never able to complete the
issue of its pioneering set of the complete
symphonies under the redoubtable Svetlanov.
The new Kondrashin
version comes with excellent notes,
a characteristically soulful photograph
of the introverted composer and the
best cover art of any recording, a sepia
image of a peasant lighting a cigarette
by N.P. Andreev (1882-1947), from 1924,
the same year as the first performance
of the Symphony.
Whether Myaskovsky’s
Sixth Symphony relates to the events
of the Russian Revolution, personal
tragedy in the composer’s life, the
betrayal of political idealism during
the "Red Terror" or none of
these, it remains a great, sprawling
heroic epic.
Kondrashin’s Melodiya
performance is fully worthy of it and
should be in any self-respecting Myaskovsky
collection.
Jeffrey Davis
see also Nikolai
MIASKOVSKY A Survey of the Chamber
Works, Orchestral Music and Concertos
on Record By JONATHAN WOOLF
State Academic Russian Choir 
for
details 
