Admirers of Veljo Tormis’s choral music - and there are
many - will perhaps be surprised by the vehemence of his
Overture
No. 2. It is predominantly dramatic and violent, with a calmer
middle section which, often rather sinister in character, threatens
at one point to grind to a halt. The composer’s habitual
inspiration, folk music, is absent. Jonathan D. Kramer, in the
accompanying notes, informs us that Tormis has never composed
pure music, but that his work always carries some extra-musical
message, sometimes a political one. It is difficult, in listening
to this expertly written and vividly orchestrated piece, to avoid
thoughts of violent repression, subversion and defiance, and
indeed the conductor supports this view in the booklet. Pointedly,
he also refers to the two works on the disc “emerging from
two countries at a common point in their history, both sharing
the same conviction, urgency and strength.” The two countries
are, of course, Russia and Estonia, the latter shamefully subsumed
into the former after the Second World War, achieving independence
only in 1991. Paavo Järvi is himself Estonian. However one
feels about its genesis, the piece is compelling and is extremely
well performed here. It works very well, too, as a kind of prelude
to Shostakovich’s Tenth, in which case it seems a pity
not to have it placed first on the disc.
The opening of the main work is very successful and promising,
the sombre mood well maintained by the conductor’s scrupulous
attention to dynamic marks. The difference between
piano and
pianissimo is
well brought out, rendering the odd
mezzo forte - comparatively
rare - all the more significant. Overall, though, Järvi
has a rather free attitude to tempo, and this rather undermines
the unity of structure of this huge movement. He seems keen to
move the music on as it mounts towards the huge central climax,
and this, in addition to a certain lack of weight in the orchestral
texture, makes for an experience less overwhelming than it should
be. Then, when the opening music returns, where detachment makes
for stoic acceptance, he seems too expressive, too willing to
linger at the ends of phrases. The astonishing second movement
is stunningly well played but, once again, lacks the crushing
power that other orchestras have brought to it. The short,
pianissimo passage
before the close is brilliantly rendered, however. The third
movement constantly refers to a little musical tag based on the
first letters of the composer’s own name. Why? Whatever
the reason, one must assume that this movement was of great significance
to him. The same strengths and weaknesses are in evidence here
as in the first movement. The ending is very atmospheric, though
the repeated tam-tam strokes in the final pages are consistently
held too long. The same thing happens at the climactic chord
of the finale, so I suppose the conductor instructed the player
to do this. It’s probably not important, but then again… The
finale, in any event, is dispatched with huge skill and sounds
more playful than any other performance I know, this without
in the least compromising the very equivocal nature of the music.
The final pages are stunning.
I’ve been listening to Bernard Haitink’s 1977 Decca
recording of the symphony recently; it is very distinguished.
I’ve never much cared for Karajan in this work - I don’t
suppose the conductor lost much sleep over this, particularly
since the composer was evidently a huge admirer - but I do very
much admire Karel Ančerl’s DG performance from 1955.
Such is the state of Shostakovich scholarship now that one is
wary of believing anything or favouring a particular point of
view. The insert notes to the present issue are, however, thought-provoking
at least. Järvi’s performance is very fine, finer
and more convincing on its own terms than my remarks above might
lead readers to think. Cruelly, though, both the rival performances
mentioned succeed better in their single-minded command of large-scale
structure and in the sheer weight of sound in climaxes which
should overwhelm the listener with their inexorability - this
is to do with structure again - and sheer sonic power.
William Hedley