Symphony No. 4 in C minor, Op. 43.
Maxim Shostakovich, Prague Symphony Orchestra.
Supraphon SU 3353-2 031. DDD. TT 64:04.
Recorded live, 3-4 Feb. 1998, Smetana Hall, Municipal House, Prague.

This is the latest in a series of appearances by Shostakovich fils on Czech labels and with Czech orchestras. It is one of the most unusual interpretations of the work on disc, especially when one considers its source. This is decidedly not the merciless and apocalyptic assault of Järvi (CHAN 8640), nor does it resemble the Mahlerian monolith of Rattle (EMI 5 55476 2). Instead, Maxim Shostakovich fingerpaints hallucinatory vignettes whose nearest kin, strange to say, is Berlioz' Symphonie fantastique!

The psychotropic effects of Maxim's performance are attributable to the way he exploits the strangeness of the symphony's orchestral effects, letting out the reins on markings in the score that are glossed over in other accounts that present (some would say, "fabricate") a more unified feel. Rarely do muted trombones sound so strangled, or harps as percussive and reverberant as they do here. More than once I was sent running to the score to check some detail that sounded off, only to find it staring me in the face - no, that accented semiquaver on flute and clarinets in bar Fig. 60+6/15:20 of the first movement is not an editing mistake!

Not all the instrumental effects provoke the sensation of having eaten bad mushrooms, and there is some fine and characterful playing, such as the violin solo beginning at Fig. 100/23:43 of the first movement, which overflows with tremolo, and the superb piccolo work in the second.

As I intimated above, this is not a violent account. Climaxes are blunt, especially the first climax of the third movement, in which the three discrete cymbal clashes called for in the score are replaced by a crescendo roll that is audible only towards the far end of the plateau. Later on, the main climax undulates ponderously like rolling seas, and the long coda afterwards is nothing so much as a meditation on mist, impalpable and dissolving into nothingness. If you want what feels like a prophetic vision of nuclear war with a lone survivor wandering through the ashes, nobody has portrayed that better than Järvi, but Maxim's hypercoloured dreamland has its own unique merits.

This is a live performance, though you wouldn't guess that from the absence of audience noise (there is no applause at the end). A minor point: translation of the original Czech booklet notes is error-prone, with the second movement described in English as "dimply-coloured", while a deletion at this point in the French translation ascribes the description of the Largo/Allegro to the Scherzo. As to matters of substance, though, this reading is safely recommendable to anyone looking for a novel conception of the symphony.

W. Mark Roberts
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DSCH No. 10.
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