Shostakovich’s
eleventh symphony is a deeply layered work whose content is inarguably
patriotic on some level, regardless of the composer’s inscrutable private
political leanings. Subtitled “The Year 1905,” Symphony no. 11 is a cinematic
retelling of the events of “Bloody Sunday” – the massacre of disgruntled
workers in St. Petersburg on January 9, 1905 which became a key component of
the Russian Revolution and the dawn of the Soviet Union. The work holds up
confidently to the scrutiny of socialist realism in its cinematic enormity, its
prominent use of folk tunes, and its telling of the Bloody Sunday story from
the workers’ (i.e. the common man’s) tragic point of view.
The most
easily identifiable of these aspects is the symphony’s size. The chronological
size at least is difficult to ignore – there are no breaks between movements
and the work is about an hour long. The orchestra itself is not remarkably big,
but Shostakovich does tend to use full “choirs,” such as all the brass or all
the strings at once, rather than single instruments. The sense of size is exaggerated
by the enormous range of dynamics, of tempo, and of melodic pitch. He also
includes the idee fixe of open fifths
in octaves throughout the piece, lending to the work a sense of expansive
continuity that enhances its size.
Shostakovich
also complies with socialist realism by taking the comman man’s point of view
and using revolutionary folk tunes as the basis for most of the melodic
material. In the expository first movement, The
Palace Square, the stage is quietly set for rebellion and massacre. Most of
the movement is soft and drawn-out with long string pedals and slow, low
melodies. Occasionally, the melody “Listen” appears in a higher register as a
reminder of the atrocities of the czarist regime. The carnage itself happens in
the second movement, The 9th
of January, which is introduced by a fast ostinato in the low strings to
the tune of Shostakovich’s own composition “Oh, Czar, our little father,” a
melody that reappears throughout the rest of the symphony at varying speeds,
pitches, and dynamics. At the end of the second movement, “Listen” reappears as
the massacre ends and the scope of the tragedy comes into focus. The third
movement, In Memoriam, depicts the
horror of defeat and begins with the violas playing the folk tune “Worker’s
Funeral March.” The final movement is The
Tocsin, the alarm bell signaling revolution for the working man, set to loud,
crashing, and often unison excerpts from folk tunes like “Rage, Tyrants” and “Vrashavianka.”
Symphony 11
and many of Shostakovich’s other large works are comparable to the output of
other regional composers in the 20th century, such as Ralph Vaughan
Williams in the United Kingdom and Aaron Copland in the United States. These
composers all tried to depict a (generally idealized) musical image of their
homelands at a time when regional identity was often a highly political matter.
Copland’s experience with McCarthyism in particular parallels some of what Shostakovich
dealt with, as does the cancellation of John Adams’s opera The Death of Klinghoffer shortly after 9/11. Art is often so
layered and subversive that it can be frightening to governments attempting to
maintain security and safety. Politics can create opportunities for artists,
but they can also create dangerous limitations.
Sam, I notice your inductive observations when you state how Shostakovich uses both the various parts of the orchestra to create such a cinematic portrait of pre-Bolshevik revolution. I wonder what would happen when you give even more description of the revolutionary meaning of Shostakovich's work in the socialist world. Your observations of political musical examples is evident with John Adams and Copland, but what else could Shostakovich's music have meant in context?
ReplyDeleteGood, Sam. Along with Evan, it might be good to delve a little deeper into the context and subtext suggested by Shost.'s work. Though VW and Copland have similar interests as "nationalist" composers, their creativity was not shackled in nearly the same way as Shost's.
ReplyDeleteHi Sam, I enjoyed your analogy! I thought your last line and paragraph was especially interesting to think about how politics can benefit and limit artists.
ReplyDelete