I have to confess that I’m not very familiar with the music of
Rodion Shchedrin. I have heard his wonderfully imaginative and
entertaining Carmen Suite for strings and percussion, which
uses music from Bizet’s opera to marvellous effect. That apart,
I reviewed
his Fifth Piano Concerto a couple of years ago but was less than
convinced by it. However, The Sealed Angel is something
else entirely.
The booklet accompanying
this CD contains a very interesting interview with the composer
but unfortunately there’s surprisingly little about background
to the work nor is there any descriptive note about the music
itself. Since the music may be unfamiliar to many readers it
may help if I supply a little information that I’ve been able
to glean from the internet.
From the booklet
conversation we learn that the text is by a nineteenth century
Russian writer, Nikolai Leskov, but not much else. In fact,
Leskov (1831-1895) was a Russian novelist and journalist. His
novella Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk (1865) was the inspiration
for Shostakovich’s eponymous opera. It seems that Leskov became
increasingly disenchanted with the Russian Orthodox Church from
the 1870s onwards and this was reflected in his writings. The
Sealed Angel dates from 1873 and relates the story of a
group of Old Believers. The Old Believers were a conservative
faction of Russian Orthodox Christians who, from the mid-seventeenth
century onwards, engaged in an often bitter dispute with the
mainstream church. The Sealed Angel tells of a Ukrainian
group of Old Believers whose icons are confiscated by the authorities.
Most grievous of all is the loss of their icon of a shining
angel. Leskov tells the story of their efforts to recover it.
So far as I have
been able to establish the texts that Shchedrin sets are passages
within the story that are anthems sung by the Old Believers.
In fact, from one commentary I’ve read it seems that Shchedrin
envisaged that the way to perform his work would be to have
Leskov’s narrative read to the audience with his music sung
at the points that they occur in the book. It’s a pity that
the booklet note doesn’t expand on this background.
The work is scored
for mixed chorus, which, in a sense, sings unaccompanied. I
choose my words advisedly there because the part for the solo
wind instrument is not an accompaniment in the true sense. This
instrument has a very important symbolic part to play but also
a highly practical role. As Shchedrin explains in the interview,
he included the instrumental part, which isn’t by any means
continuous, as a device to help the choir sustain the pitching
over the work’s lengthy span. The symbolic function of the instrument,
he says, is “to join two worlds that are very important to me,
Russian religious tradition but also Russian folk tradition,
the music of the church and music of the countryside, the Russian
peasants that I heard about me as a boy.” In the light of these
comments one must assume that the wind instrument represents
“the soul of the Russian people” as it says on the back cover
of this disc. But there may be an interesting debate on this
point. The solo instrument used here is an oboe, eloquently
played by the excellent Clare Wills. The composer states that
the instrument used “can also be a flute”. Interestingly, both
of the other recordings of the work use a flute and a commentary
on one of these recordings states that “Shchedrin introduces
the solo flute to represent the spirit of the icon of the angel.”
I have not heard the work with a flute but I can see why a flute
might be interpreted as relating to an angel. However, on a
practical level there are several occasions in the score where
the wind instrument has to make an interjection into
a rich choral texture and in that context perhaps the oboe,
with its cutting edge, would enjoy an advantage over a flute.
In this present performance the oboe very effectively suggests
the earthiness that one might associate with Russian peasant
society of old so I think Shchedrin’s apparent intention has
been realised successfully.
The music itself
makes a huge impact. It seems to me that one of Shchedrin’s
greatest achievements has been to write a piece that is rooted
in the musical and harmonic traditions of the Russian Orthodox
liturgy but in which twentieth century techniques are
used in a wholly respectful way to enrich and develop that tradition.
The work is cast in nine movements, several of which follow
their predecessor without a break.
The first movement
begins quietly, slowly and reverently but gradually the harmonies
open up and become richer and more luminous. Shchedrin’s long,
flowing vocal lines are especially impressive. By the time the
third movement is reached the choral writing has assumed a more
modern tone, though the traditional Orthodox ambience is never
lost. The text of the fourth movement is concerned with the
betrayal of Jesus by Judas and here the music takes on a new
tone. Dissonance is used to convey indignation at the treachery
of Judas. Shchedrin is very skilful here in conveying contempt
for Judas through powerful writing that still stays recognisably
within the bounds of the traditions of Orthodox music. This
movement makes huge demands on the singers, to which the combined
choirs respond with committed and sonorous singing. At 4:41
Shchedrin introduces a series of loud, dull drum strokes, with
which he ratchets up the tension still more until at 6:01,
in an astonishing moment, the whole choir sings a huge upward
glissando, which culminates in an impassioned choral scream.
This is searingly dramatic and extremely effective.
The short, central
fifth movement is for oboe alone. I suspect there is some significance
in this fact and it would have been useful if the notes had
covered this point. The seventh movement is the longest. At
the start we hear a plaintive soprano solo, which is very well
sung, and later in the movement there’s an equally successful
alto solo. The words speak of an aching sense of separation
from God and Shchedrin’s music illustrates this marvellously.
It’s a very moving episode. The penultimate section is a setting
of The Lord’s Prayer. It begins slowly, in a mood of devotion
but rises to a powerful climax before the music subsides once
again. The last movement sets the same words that were heard
in the first movement and the music bears some similarities.
However, the tone of this last movement becomes much
more impassioned in the middle (from around 2:10 to 3:10) before
a serene, beautiful ending is achieved.
The Sealed Angel
is a work of great beauty and profundity, which I’d strongly
urge collectors to experience for themselves in this splendid
performance. As reference points I’d cite the liturgical music
of Rachmaninov and there are audible similarities with some
of the music of John Tavener. But Shchedrin’s
music bears its own individual stamp and in this work of great
feeling and integrity he responds eloquently to words that are
very beautiful and powerful in their own right.
These
two English student choirs gave the UK première performances of The Sealed Angel in
2008, after which they made this recording. It’s evident that
their respective directors, who conduct four movements each
on the recording, had prepared them superbly and the singing
is consistently out of the top drawer. The voices are youthful
and have a very welcome freshness. Even with the addition of
three guest singers – all low basses – the fifty-four singers
can’t quite achieve the sonority that an East European choir
would achieve but they compensate in other ways and I’m full
of admiration for their performance. That said, I’d love to
hear the work sung by a choir from Russia.
As to the presentation,
well the recorded sound is first rate. The chapel of Worksop
College has a fine resonance, which the engineers have used
most skilfully, but although the recording has a fine, warm
resonance it is also admirably clear. I have two regrets about
the documentation. The interview with the composer is both interesting
and highly relevant but I just wish it had been supplemented
by a note giving more information about the background to the
work and commentary about the music. The other regret is that
an alliterative version of the Russian text is not provided.
It’s all very well having the original Russian text but non-Russian
speakers will find it very difficult to match up what the singers
are singing – with admirably clear diction – against the English
translation.
But these two quibbles
cannot and should not reduce the warmest possible recommendation
for this very fine disc. I’ve found listening to this excellent
and committed performance of The Sealed Angel to be a
very moving experience. This work is a major discovery for me.
I hope this very fine recording will win many new admirers for
it and congratulate Delphian for their enterprise in issuing
it.
John Quinn