Alfred SCHNITTKE (1934-1998)
Film Music Edition
Die Geschichte von einem unbekannten Schauspieler / The story of an
unknown actor (Alexander Sarchi / Mosfilm 1976) [18:38]
Die Kommissarin / The Commissar (Alexander Askoldow / Mosfilm 1967/87)
[47:26]
Clowns und Kinder / Clowns and Children (Alexander Mitta, Mosfilm 1976)
[8:57]
Der Walzer / The Waltz (Viktor Titow / Mosfilm 1969) [11:09]
Die Glasharmonika / The Glass Harmonica (Andrei Khrzhanovsky, 1968)
[20:46]
Der Aufstieg / The Ascent (Larissa Schepitko / Mosfilm 1976) [14:15]
Das Märchen der Wanderungen / The Fairytale of the Wanderings (Alexander
Mitta, Mosfilm 1982/83) [44:55]
Rikki-Tikki-Tavi (Alexander Sguridi / ZentrNaútschFilm, 1976) [24:03]
Sport, Sport, Sport (Elem Klimow, Mosfilm 1970) [25:21]
Die Abenteuer eines Zahnarztes / The adventures of a dentist (Elem Klimow,
Mosfilm 1965) [24:36]
Rundfunk-Sinfonieorchester Berlin/Frank Strobel
rec. Jesus Christus-Kirche, Berlin-Dahlem, 2003-2005
CAPRICCIO C7196 [4 CDs: 280:23]
Alfred Schnittke’s film music is probably better known
by reputation rather than as something familiar to listeners, though
Frank Strobel’s work in this field has made some of this large archive
of music more accessible in recent years. Schnittke wrote more than
60 film scores between 1961 and 1984, earning more in this way that
was ever likely to be possible through his ‘serious’ work bearing in
mind the difficulties he and other contemporary composers suffered in
the USSR. Schnittke continued to write for film for much of his life,
and was apparently by no means uncomfortable in being known as a film
music composer.
Divorcing film music from the pictures and narratives for which they
were written is rarely ideal, but Frank Strobel’s large scale project
in fact complies with Schnittke’s wish that his film music should be
brought to life in the concert hall, so what we have here are scores
painstakingly gathered together and recorded in excellent audio rather
than original soundtracks. There is of course a big difference between
these polished recordings and the raw and distinctive character of the
originals and I would hesitate to say which is ultimately preferable,
but for the audio-only experiences these recordings are excellent.
This four disc box set is a re-release of single discs which originally
had an SACD layer. Earlier editions have been covered on MusicWeb International:
volume 1 (see review)
and volume 2 (review).
This set on standard stereo CDs is nicely presented and well documented,
with notes on each film.
The Story of an Unknown Actor has some lovely nostalgic themes
and a rather gentle orchestral sound, with plenty of quite lush string
writing. The Commissar also opens quite sweetly, but darker undertones
break through, the klezmer-style Wedding overrun with violence
by a subsequent Attack. This score has more fingerprints of Schnittke’s
style, with playfulness set surreally against unfeeling angularity and
the heavy intensity of clustered chords. Orchestration is also more
extensive, with a large percussion section and timbres such as dampened
piano strings all adding impact and atmosphere to performance which
also include some terrific folk-fiddling.
Clowns and Children has grand circus music of which Shostakovich
might have been proud, the childishness and jollity always infected
with a quasi-comic clumsiness and some minor-key melancholy. Reading
about The Waltz conjures some strange ideas which include Johann
Strauss as a character, his waltz theme being put through all kinds
of torture before emerging triumphant. The Glass Harmonica is
rather special, being a through-composed score which plays for the entire
duration of a 19 minute cartoon. The instrument’s glassy sound is recreated
with a celesta, harp and prepared piano, and there are all kinds of
stylistic pastiche from Baroque to the strangest of modern effects using
Theremin and other electronic instruments. It’s worth seeking out the
disturbing original.
The Ascent is a harrowing story of Soviet partisans during the
darkest days of WWII. Schnittke’s oppressive score generates sound-textures
as much as it does music in the first track, Sotnikov’s Death,
and there is a chilling atmosphere throughout, with powerful and dispiriting
climaxes.
The Fairytale of the Wanderings is a strange adventure, the
tale of which is too complicated to summarise. This was a significant
project for Schnittke, and his collaboration with film-maker Alexander
Mitta resulted in extensive and wide-ranging music of the highest calibre.
The content is distinctively Schnittke, from the main theme and melodies
both witty and beautiful to the sheer imagination and variety in the
orchestration, all qualities which draw you in and keep you involved
from start to finish. Rikki-Tikki-Tavi is Rudyard Kipling’s famous
Mongoose from the Jungle Book, and the wide-screen and large-scale
production is reflected in Schnittke’s opulent and often more Western-sounding
score. Grand, heroic gestures are there to inspire, while atmospheric
scoring describes nocturnal scenes, the threat of the snakes, battle
and ultimate triumph.
Sport, Sport, Sport is a satire on fitness, and Schnittke’s
score is a “good humoured caricature of the ambitious movers.” This
and numerous other films of this kind were banned by the Soviet authorities,
and Schnittke rescued and recycled portions of these scores to make
his Suite in old Style for violin and piano. This includes The
Adventures of a Dentist, which is another satire, the moral of which
in this case “is that he who stands out is soon cut down.” There are
some terrific numbers in both of these scores, with Schnittke at his
best when undermining his own distinctive themes through stylistic adaptation
or distortion. There are portions which enter ‘classical sitcom’ territory,
nods to Shostakovich in Jazz Suite mood, as well as an embracing
of neo-classical nuance which sails close to Stravinsky, and moments
which seem to satirise bloated versions of the kind of Western culture
that revels in gold-leafed New Year celebratory crassness. There’s also
a fantastic Charleston with saxophones and banjo and just so
much to enjoy and so many ways of interpreting what Schnittke might
be wanting to tell us: this is the kind of stuff which can keep you
entertained and stimulated for a lifetime.
With an inevitable smoothing out of those rough edges that can charm
and shock in those original film recordings, this is a collection very
much worth acquiring. If you’ve been put off by Schnittke’s modernity
in the past then this can be a way into understanding his musical language
from a different angle. Having heard the technical virtuosity with which
he solves the problems of applying music to the widest variety of imagery
and narrative, one comes to appreciate even more the sheer facility
and genius of this composer. These scores enhanced and heightened the
effect of the films for which they were made, and to an equal extent
the best of Schnittke’s concert music can enhance and heighten your
experience of life. Go on, give it a try. It’s not like smoking – it
won’t harm you, really.
Dominy Clements
