Jewish Music From Russia
From Jewish Folk Poetry, opus 79a, for soprano, contralto, tenor and orchestra, sung in the Yiddish language[a]; Prokofiev: Overture on Hebrew Themes, opus 34, for clarinet, string quartet and piano[b]; Serge Slonimsky: Rhapsody on Hebrew Themes for piano, flute, string orchestra and percussion[c].
Andrei Tchistiakov, Bolshoi Orchestra [a,c], Eva Ben-Zvi (soprano)[a], Elena Goubina (alto)[a], Nikolai Kurpe (tenor)[a]; Anton Dressler (clarinet)[b]; Julia Zilberquit (piano)[b,c]; Glinka Quartet[b].
Saison Russe RUS 288166. DDD. TT 58:49.
[a]World première recording of complete Yiddish version.

The world première recording of the Yiddish language version of Shostakovich's most frequently recorded song cycle, From Jewish Folk Poetry, has at last arrived. It is one of three offerings under the title Jewish Music from Russia that also includes instrumental works by Prokofiev and Serge Slonimsky (born 1932). The album title points to a genre of Russian music that has received precious little recording attention, a situation of surprising neglect in the presence of a "mighty handful" of composers and works falling into this category. While Shostakovich and Prokofiev were not Jewish themselves, most of the music of this genre was penned by Russians of Jewish extract (that includes Mr. Slonimsky). Most celebrated of these today is Moishe Weinberg (Vainberg). It is less known that a determined collective of composers of an earlier generation, born in the 1880s, pioneered a Jewish National movement in Russian musical circles - one that sought to incorporate authentic Hebrew materials into Western composition.

The effort was led by Mikhail Gnessin and Alexander Krein, and included names such as Yuli Engel, Joseph Achron, and Alexander Veprik. Their original work influenced a later generation of Jewish composers such as Lev Knipper, Julian Krein and Boris Kliusner, whose names remain almost as obscure. Hopefully this album will be the beginning of a series devoted to this intriguing and almost forgotten chapter of Russian-Soviet music.

The principal work under consideration is the long-awaited Yiddish version of FJFP in its complete form. Except for the final three songs, the Yiddish version had previously been recorded on a Jerusalem Records CD in 1988 with Yuri Ahronovich leading the Jerusalem SO and vocalists. It was paired with Weinberg's Sixth Symphony. That earlier version was a live performance whose sound quality falls well short of today's digital standard.

As for matters of authenticity, we learn from the album's excellent liner notes, written by noted Shostakovich scholar Joachim Braun, that the composer had wanted "to have the actual Yiddish poems sung in his opus 79". It is not clear whether the composer, himself, drafted the Yiddish version, with possible musical and textual alterations, or whether it was adapted by other hands. In either case, the fact remains that the music was initially conceived using texts in Russian translation rather than in the original Yiddish. The degree to which the vocal part is better suited to the Russian or Yiddish versions will be for listeners to decide. In addition to matters of musical suitability, one's acclimation to the familiar Russian version of a vocal work also exerts its influence on how one will respond to a translated version.

Through language, the human voice possesses its own characteristics of musical articulation, ones that are far more flexible and diversified than those of any other musical instrument. And these characteristics, which include explosives, percussives, aspirations, sibilances, etc., become as bonded to the music to which they are set as the attributes of articulation associated with any other musical instrument so chosen. Thus any kind of textual change alters, to varying degrees, the quality of the musical expression in ways whose success is not always guaranteed. A previous "original language" effort was once applied to another Shostakovich vocal work, the Fourteenth Symphony, in which the texts of the variously contained poets were translated into their original languages of German, Spanish, and French, and recorded by Bernard Haitink on London records. The result was an aesthetic failure, partly due to the unsuitability of the vocalists chosen for the recording, and partly due to the syllabic shifts that often do not suit the character of the music. That experiment has not been repeated.

The volatile, expressionistic nature of the Fourteenth Symphony makes it a work in which music and syllables have a fairly high degree of expressive interdependency. On the other hand, the melodic stability of FJFP bargains for a less demanding syllable-note relationship. And so I found the Russian-to-Yiddish syllabic shifts in this performance to have little impact on the music in the absolute, or abstract sense. But in this work, the extramusical factors of language and culture beg for consideration. Being a work based on Jewish folk vernacular, the Yiddish translation distinctly enhances its already powerful ethnic character, yielding a version that fits hand-in-glove into a musical idiom so intimately bonded to its linguistic roots. Phrases such as "Moyshele, in gribl, Oy!" ("v magile Moishele" in the original Russian) in the first song, and "der vinter iz do shoyn" ("Vernulis i stuzha i veter") in the eighth, catch the ear with their ethnic distinction and at the same time blend well with the expressive intentions of the music.

At the end of the sixth song, The Abandoned Father, the tenor climactically repeats the words "Tsirele, dochka" ("Tsirele, daughter") in the original Russian version. The Yiddish replacement "Tsirele, feygl" has a similarly explosive quality and carries the moment with no loss of intensity. The Yiddish version also lends its shading to the contralto's solo in the tender second song, Lullaby.

There is but one notable place where something is lost in the translation. This occurs in the catchy tune that begins the second song, The thoughtful Mother, where the memorable Russian syllables "baï-baï-baï" are replaced with the Yiddish "schlof-schlof-schlof". This is a less mellifluous alteration that robs the tune of some of its childlike tone - perhaps an alternate choice of syllable in this one phrase might be chosen for future performances.

The three soloists give a commendable performance and are fully immersed in the work's unique expressive character. The Yiddish words and syllables were articulated audibly and clearly, and to these ears (which have heard the Yiddish language spoken more than a few times), the pronunciation by the three Russian-born soloists seems authentic enough (as does the pronunciation in the aforementioned Jerusalem performance). Nikolai Kurpe's husky tenor has no trouble reaching full expressive volume in a performance that stands out for being the most emotive of the three soloists, sometimes to a point that lends an unexpected dramatic focus. His climactic moments in the sixth song are memorable, and he brings a similar passion to his prominent solos in the seventh and ninth songs. One would not expect a soprano as brightly toned as Eva Ben-Zvi to be ideally suited to this cycle, yet her attractive voice and energetic presence bring a nicely blended buoyancy to the ensemble. Her somewhat mannered style of pronunciation brings out the Yiddish syllables with a deliberate precision that I found pleasing. Contralto Elena Goubina lends a grounding presence to the ensemble with her stable bearing, both earthy and expressive in the Slavic sense, and delivers a fine performance in her solos in the third song and elsewhere. Conductor Andrei Tchistiakov leads the Bolshoi Orchestra in as supportive an interpretation as any.

It was a revelation and a pleasure to hear FJFP in its Yiddish version and to follow the words on the written page (the complete Yiddish and English texts are provided side by side). The current version is likely to spawn other recordings of same, and I would not be surprised if the Yiddish version eventually overtook the Russian version as the performing standard.

Prokofiev's Overture on Hebrew Themes, written 1919, was one of the first concert works to be stylised in the fashion of klezmer music, an ethnic borrowing that strongly influenced both Shostakovich and Slonimsky. While it may have broken new ground, the composer himself had doubts about the work's merit and never assigned it an opus number. I have never found it to represent Prokofiev at his best. The piece begins promisingly with a pair of strong, rustically evocative ideas that are offset, in sonata form, by a broad cantilena theme. On successive appearances, however, the initial material remains somewhat rigid and fails to interact and develop to any appreciable degree. The strength of the piece remains with the colourful quality of its tunes.

The Glinka Quartet, supplemented by clarinettist Anton Dressler and pianist Julia Zilberquit, offer a nicely turned performance, with well shaped dynamics and a tempo whose leisurely but bouncy swagger aptly captures the flickering alternation of gay and mournful moods. The all-important solo highlights are handled superbly with special merit to Mr. Dressler and cellist Oleg Smirnov.

Serge Slonimsky's 25-minute Jewish Rhapsody offers a novel blend of Eastern and Western musical attitudes. Shunning the conventional symmetries and phrasings of Western music, it sets out on an improvisatory course, a series of conversational exchanges between individual instruments in a fashion suggestive of the open-ended forms of Eastern classical music. The piano is the principal conversant in this sparsely and delicately scored work, its pensive and exotic commentaries are marked by frequent flourishes, florid arpeggiations, and gong-like clusters that mimic the sound of harp and percussion. The short phrases that pass from piano to strings, then flute, have a strong Hebraic quality as a result of intrinsic scale patterns, ornamental embellishments, and in general, a mournful pensiveness. The work creates the impression that the listener is eavesdropping on a series of ruminations among rabbinical fathers where ancient Biblical truths about life and religion are passed along in a continuously lyrical, rhapsodic narrative. After a number of hearings, I became quite enchanted with the work and its novel means of expression.

I cannot imagine a more deeply committed performance of this Jewish Rhapsody than the one the piece receives here. Kudos to all the musicians for meeting the unusual demands of this music, with particular mention of pianist Julia Zilberquit for the very personal quality she brings to her instrument's central role.

Louis Blois
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