Shostakovich’s 4th 
                Symphony starts in catastrophe and 
                ends in tragedy. In the 60-odd minutes 
                which separate these two events Shostakovich 
                takes us through a gamut of emotions 
                and styles with music ranging from desperate 
                fugue to comic circus music of the most 
                banal quality. But it isn’t banal; it’s 
                essential to the musical argument. And 
                what an argument Shostakovich gives 
                us. 
              
 
              
By the time of composition, 
                Shostakovich had graduated from silent 
                cinema pianist to having three Symphonies 
                under his belt – the first, written 
                when he was a mere 19 years of age, 
                had gone round the world and alerted 
                musicians and public alike to the presence 
                of a major talent – as well as a wealth 
                of film and theatre incidental music 
                (including the wonderfully titled Hypothetically 
                Murdered (1931)), and the opera 
                The Nose, after a story by Gogol. 
                His most recent opera, Lady Macbeth 
                of the Mtsensk District was enjoying 
                a most satisfactory run of some 200 
                performances in Moscow and Leningrad 
                alone - not to mention a myriad international 
                productions - and having seen it on 
                its way, the composer turned his attention 
                to his new 4th Symphony. 
                Not many composers achieve so much before 
                their 30th birthday. And 
                things looked rosy for Shostakovich 
                until the evening of 27 January 1936, 
                when Stalin, the great Leader and Teacher 
                of the Russian people, went to the theatre 
                and experienced Lady Macbeth. 
                The following day Pravda, the official 
                Communist Party newspaper, carried an 
                article entitled Muddle instead of 
                music, and Lady Macbeth was 
                silenced on the Russian stage for 60 
                years! But the Symphony survived 
                and was set for première on 11 
                December 1936. But it wasn’t performed 
                in 1936 and Shostakovich withheld the 
                work from the public until 30 December 
                1961, when Kyril Kondrashin conducted 
                a very successful première. 
              
 
              
I can well imagine 
                Shostakovich’s realisation that had 
                the 4th Symphony been 
                performed in the wake of the Pravda 
                article things could have been made 
                very uncomfortable for him and his family, 
                not to mention the musicians who were 
                to play the work. So he turned his attention 
                to the 5th Symphony, 
                described as A Soviet Artist’s Reply 
                to Just Criticism – although we 
                now know this work to be just as subversive 
                as its predecessor. 
              
 
              
So what of the 4th 
                Symphony? It is scored for a gigantic 
                orchestra, has three movements – the 
                outer ones being as large as many complete 
                Symphonies – and the range of emotion 
                is staggering. I can just imagine Uncle 
                Joe’s response to this work. If Lady 
                Macbeth offended him, this work 
                would send him into meltdown! 
              
 
              
The first movement 
                is a large-scale sonata movement which 
                encompasses a violent, relentless march, 
                an headlong, manic, fugue, snarling 
                brass, screeching woodwind, brutal (almost 
                sadistic) percussion and a slow, reflective 
                coda, which is not without the odd acidic 
                bite. There is more than sufficient 
                incident and passion to fill several 
                symphonies and it’s a tiring experience 
                to get through for the listener. What 
                must the poor orchestral musician feel 
                like when playing it? The middle movement 
                is a light and fleeting scherzo, ending 
                with the same weird percussion sounds 
                which reappear at the end of the 2nd 
                Cello Concerto. And then we are 
                plunged into the finale, if such it 
                is, for this is unlike any symphonic 
                finale I’ve ever heard. Starting with 
                a funeral march for bassoon and timpani, 
                and exploiting the tritone, the diabolus 
                in music, the temperature rises as the 
                tempo increases and we’re off again, 
                fighting our fears in hand to hand combat. 
                And just as suddenly as the music becomes 
                deadly serious, it turns into a polka-scherzo, 
                a galop and a waltz! Finally, the music 
                relaxes becoming quieter and easier, 
                and it is here that Shostakovich brings 
                in his coup de grace – two codas, the 
                first gigantic and loud, combining the 
                main themes of the outer movements in 
                utter desperation which dissipates into 
                the second coda, slow, grey, depressed, 
                a dead world, all hope gone. The tritone 
                reappears on muted trumpet and the music 
                gradually fades into nothingness. This 
                is the end. There is no more. 
              
 
              
A masterpiece? Without 
                a doubt. This, for me, is Shostakovich’s 
                finest symphonic hour, but it takes 
                a conductor and orchestra of some stature 
                to make sense of this disparate score. 
              
 
              
I have heard live broadcasts 
                of Roman Kofman, with the Beethoven 
                Orchestra, and been generally impressed 
                with his grasp of contemporary scores 
                so I was looking forward to this disk. 
              
 
              
The score lends itself 
                to some freedom in interpretation, and 
                tempi can be viewed quite freely so 
                there is no one obvious way to perform 
                this work. Kofman allows himself quite 
                a lot of license and sometimes he makes 
                it work but there are times when a sudden 
                gear change makes you wonder what is 
                going on. Kofman obviously cares for 
                this music and he takes a very serious 
                approach, but that isn’t enough. This 
                music is wild and out of control – it 
                needs a free spirit to take control 
                then throw all caution to the wind and 
                let the music go its own way. Kofman 
                is far too polite and controlling. He 
                seems to be making apologies all the 
                time for the ferociousness of the music 
                and so he holds back when he should 
                be letting go. The orchestra responds 
                to his every thought and it plays well, 
                but it’s not enough. There was no sense 
                of danger, of being on the very edge 
                of life itself. This shouldn’t be the 
                kind of music you take home to meet 
                mum and dad. 
              
 
              
The recording is splendid 
                and bright, but the orchestra seems 
                to be sitting in a large, empty hall, 
                and occasionally detail is lost. Most 
                unusual is the fugue in the first movement 
                – it starts with first violins then 
                one by one the other string sections 
                enter culminating in a fierce battle 
                with drums battering their way through 
                a very full orchestral texture – which 
                sounds as if the string section is woefully 
                under strength, the mere handful of 
                players involved seem stretched and 
                the effect is embarrassing. This section 
                should go off like a rocket, we’re on 
                the edge again, but with Kofman you 
                feel as if you’re standing, with an 
                handful of friends, some way from the 
                edge, in total safety behind a strong, 
                and sensibly placed, fence. 
              
 
              
I’m sorry. I want much 
                more from this music than Kofman and 
                his players give me. Much, much more. 
                For real, thrilling and sometimes petrifying 
                and hair raising performances, where 
                all caution is thrown to the wind, listen 
                to André Previn with the Chicago 
                Symphony Orchestra (EMI 0094638867623 
                – coupled with Britten’s Sea Interludes 
                with the LSO) or Simon Rattle and his 
                Birmingham Orchestra (EMI CDC5554762 
                – coupled with Britten’s Russian 
                Funeral). Here are two conductors 
                who have the full measure of this music 
                and play it for all it is worth, both 
                intellectually and emotionally. 
              
 
              
This MDG disk is good, 
                but it’s not the real Shostakovich 4th 
                Symphony, more Shostakovich 4 
                lite. However, full praise for Iosif 
                Raiskin’s excellent notes. 
              
Bob Briggs