Symphony No. 6 in B minor, opus 54[a]; The Golden Age concert suite, opus 22a[b]; Katerina Izmaylova Entr'acte music from opus 114[c].
Maxim Shostakovich, Prague Symphony Orchestra.
Supraphon SU 3415-2 031. DDD. TT 66:01.
Recorded live Dvorák Hall, Rudolfinum, Prague, 14 November 1996[a,c]; Smetana Hall, Municipal House, Prague, 2 March 1999[b].

Maxim has had varying levels of success with his recordings of his father's symphonies. His Collins sessions were unimpressive. His recent efforts under Supraphon, however, are beginning to do justice to the family name. His live recording of Babi Yar (SU 0160-2-231) was a splendid effort that puts him up amongst the better interpretations of the nineties. This new release sees him continuing to produce electrifying accounts that will put him in contention with all existing favourites. Amongst these, the Mravinsky on BMG (74321-25198-2) dogged by infamous Soviet engineering (the notorious boosting of selected instruments that suddenly leap in your face, like that bass clarinet) is still one of the best interpretations, with Ashkenazy's tough and angry account on Decca (425 609-2) providing the modern-day equivalent and Järvi on Chandos (CHAN 8411) giving stiff competition with sumptuous sound and deep insights.

Maxim's Sixth takes all these into account, and presents a reading that is satisfying in most aspects. This is a live recording, and this is perhaps where the junior Shostakovich excels. His Largo is more anguished and expansive than Temirkanov's, and his conception of this movement is starkly different. Maxim takes his time with the declamations, and they carry the weight of huge suffering tempered with a great dignity. At 18:51 minutes (as compared to Temirkanov's 15:40 and Mravinsky's 16:02) the events of this movement unfold like a procession of mourners. It is irredeemably bleak, even that brief ray of sunshine (the horn chords, taken by Maxim as something altogether more sombre and pained) fails to permeate its darkness. The only problem with this approach is that he overlooks the dramatic aspects of the Largo, and the moment of relief provided by that watershed horn-celesta passage never arrives. Temirkanov on the other hand judges it perfectly, allowing the remainder of the Largo to wind-up like an epilogue, the strange recapitulation that under Maxim's direction becomes a seamless part of the mourning that from start to finish never relents.

Maxim's Scherzo matches his rivals in its bitter irony and grimacing optimism, although it is less driven than all the alternatives mentioned. This has the effect of highlighting the sarcasm of the big central climax with the battering percussion and splashing gong, which is glorious, whereas in the quiet coda the buffoonery is inescapable. This sets the stage for a spirited Presto, which may start a little innocently but which turns absolutely murderous in the climax, with the snare drum making a startling contribution. The closing conveys all the electricity of a live recording, and whatever misgivings one used to have about Maxim's ability to flesh out his Shostakovich are once and for all squashed.

The same sort of angry edge and brilliant characterisation makes for a marvellous performance of The Golden Age Suite, which sheds its propagandist pretensions to reveal the brimming contempt contained within the music. The Adagio is particularly outstanding as the prototype of Shostakovich's slow movements, and has a truly memorable clarinet solo. The Prague Symphony truly relishes this score and makes a far stronger case for this work than Rozhdestvensky does with his complete recording on Chandos (CHAN 9251).

The Entr'acte Music from Katerina Izmaylova is truly one of the highlights of this recording, considering the rarity of recordings devoted to the Suite and practically none of the complete opera. The First Entr'acte is thrilling, and overall one gets a feel of the more sombre colours Shostakovich put into his revision. The youthful garishness of the original Lady Macbeth has been softened to heighten the tragic elements over the satirical, for example the significantly reworked first Presto (Interlude between Scenes 7 and 8), which transforms the more irreverent original into something closer to the Scherzo of the 10th Symphony. The Largo is earth-shattering in a hopelessness that approaches the most terrifying moments of the 4th Symphony, but which at its heart is still palpably humane. These five entr'actes make a strong case for the complete opera, in either guise, as a true masterpiece.

The recording, although possessing less sparkle than Temirkanov's, is rather appropriate for the darker mood of Maxim's overall programme and every detail is captured with excellent fidelity. Both are excellent releases, each offering a different view of the 6th. Temirkanov in the end has the upper hand: he takes more risks and reaps the rewards with a terrifying account served by a crisp ensemble that makes the Prague orchestra sound just a little shabby in comparison. Maxim plays it safer, but the end result is still pretty impressive. In the end it is a question of taste. I am deeply indebted to having experienced both performances.

CH Loh
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